Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

_Hello, Everyone. I know, it's been a long time with the exception of a few one-shots since the last book. _

_I know I've been gone for a while, and I do apologize for that. I sort of fell out of sorts for a time after a messy break up and watching two of the eldest members of my family weaken and pass away. For a time I turned to the Andromeda fandom, or more specifically the Steve Bacic fandom, shelving Potter and his friends. I know I have several irons in the fire from before, and I am trying to steer my muse towards them for completion, but I've had difficulty stirring up sufficient interest in Antigone and the Wiggentrees. I do hope that I haven't lost them for good, but they just can't seem to get themselves in order in my head._

_Another problem is an overabundance of plot bunnies from other realms, such as this one. I've been posting it elsewhere so as not to cause a fuss from this site, but have been encouraged to post it here, too. It's a crossover story between Harry Potter and the Necroscope series by Brian Lumley. Don't worry if you haven't heard of it before, because I find that most haven't which leaves me with a little more flexibility with both universes and their timelines. If you're curious, I understand that there is an entry about the Necroscope series on Wikipedia that can give you the basics._

_As always, I own nothing. Not even a house (I live in an apartment). JK Rowling is still the genius behind Harry Potter and Lumley is the master behind the Necroscope. I'm just a strange woman who thought they might mesh well together. I hope you enjoy the fevered ramblings of my imagination._

* * *

_June 29, 1993_

Hermione Granger took a deep breath and raised her hand to rap on the door.

She quickly lowered her hand again and resumed her pacing back and forth in front of the rather creepy looking house at Spinners End.

The pacing continued for several more minutes before she screwed her courage to the sticking place and marched right up to the door. She raised her hand and hit the door with several firm, sharp knocks before she could chicken out.

It seemed like an eternity before the door was jerked open. Her courage quickly fled her as she stared up, wide-eyed, at Professor Snape.

Black eyes looked down at her with surprise that quickly turned to anger. "Miss Granger, how did you find this place?"

"I… I… uhm…"

"For that matter, _why_ are you here? I am not required to tolerate you until September, nor do I intend to do so."

With that, he slammed the door shut in her face. Hermione's jaw snapped shut as she stared at the now closed entryway. That hadn't gone very well, though her inability to get a full sentence out might have had something to do with it.

She took a breath and knocked on the door again. This time it didn't take as long for Snape to answer the door. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at her. "Do you have a death wish, Miss Granger?"

"Professor, I am sorry to bother you at home, but I have to speak with you. I have a message to deliver."

"It is from the Head Master?"

She blinked. "Uhm… no, Professor. It's fr…"

"Then I have no interest in your message, Miss Granger. Now leave." He slammed the door shut again.

This was ridiculous. Her fear had been replaced by irritation. Hermione gave a stamp of her foot, glared at the door and knocked again, this time with every ounce of strength she could muster.

Snape yanked the door open with a snarl. She opened her mouth to speak but he surprised her by gripping her wrist and dragging her inside his home. The door slammed shut behind them.

Severus pulled the girl through his house, his irritation growing. "Miss Granger, I have asked you more than once to leave my house and you have refused. If you hold so little regard for me as your teacher, perhaps you'll listen to a higher authority!"

"Professor, I'm sorry, but I have to speak to you abou…"

"Silence!" He had pulled her into the den where the hearth was burning in spite of the summer heat. With a wave of his wand he dismissed the charm that kept the warmth of the flames at bay. Taking a bit of floo powder from the mantel, he tossed it into the fire and shouted "Ministry of Magic" before pulling Hermione with him.

He knew the girl was trying to get him to listen to her as he pulled her through the throng of witches and wizards inside the Ministry. Fortunately the crowd overpowered her pleas, a constant buzzing inside his ears that let him ignore her and carry on with his current idea.

It's not that he held a personal grudge against the girl, but he did find himself frustrated with her. True she had all the answers in class, but her fellow students were becoming too dependent on her to do their thinking for them. And the thought that she shackled herself to Potter and the youngest Weasley boy rather than cutting them off like the dead weight they were did not bear mentioning. He didn't wish her any true ill will; he just wanted her to be more responsible.

And to leave him the bloody hell alone during the summer.

He gave her arm a yank as he reached the front desk. "I would like to file a complaint."

A bored looking wizard looked up at him, then over at Hermione. "And the nature of your complaint, Sir?"

"Trespassing and harassment."

"But, Sir, I can expla…"

"Silence, Miss Granger!" He glared down at her, giving her arm another tug. The wizard gave them a cursory glance before directing them to the proper department. Severus yanked on the student's arm again, dragging her towards the lifts.

He had no sooner pulled her with him out into the hallway of the proper floor when a voice called out in their direction. "Professor Snape? Hermione?"

He heard Miss Granger sigh in relief as Arthur Weasley drew nearer. He was obviously confused by the sight of Hermione in the grip of Professor Snape. Severus squared his shoulders, not willing to back down but secretly grateful Weasley was there to play the white knight. He'd certainly scared the little chit badly enough by now.

Arthur stopped a few feet from them. "Severus, has something happened?"

"Nothing has happened other than Miss Granger is guilty of trespassing on my private property and I intend to see to it that she is brought up on charges."

The redhead gaped. "Ch... charges?" He looked at Hermione and back to Severus. "Surely there is some sort of misunderstanding."

"I doubt it. I requested that she remove herself from the premises and she refused to comply." He waited for Arthur to step in and take the girl by force. He would, of course, 'listen' to the man and 'reluctantly agree' to drop all charges. Surely he had made his point.

His nice plan was disrupted by a cold, cultured voice. "Severus, what brings you to the Ministry today? You usually do not set foot outside of your home until the very end of the summer break."

Lucius. Damn.

Severus turned to meet his 'old friend's' gaze. Arthur took this opportunity to pull Hermione free from his grasp and clutch the girl tightly to his side. Leave it to the Weasleys to start adopting children who already had perfectly good families. It was bad enough that they had latched on to Potter. "Good afternoon, Lucius."

The wizard stopped next to him, his cold eyes going to Miss Granger who was currently allowing herself to be gently prodded to stand behind Arthur. "Did I hear correctly, Severus? Did this… child force her presence on you?"

Weasley's chin lifted defiantly. "I'm sure that this is all a big misunderstanding and Hermione will be glad to offer her sincerest apologies. Won't you, Dear?"

"Oh, I rather think that it's high time she's taught to respect her superiors." Lucius' voice was a cold drawl. It didn't help that this was Arthur Weasley, his exact opposite in all things. In appearance. In wealth. In mannerisms. The hatred between the two ran deeper than anything Severus held for his own school-year enemies.

He was about to open his mouth to stop this before it got any further out of hand when yet another unwelcomed party joined them. Of course Lucius would be here to meet with the Minister. "Ah, Fudge, so fortuitous that you arrive at this time. It appears that this girl," Lucius began with a flick of his cane towards the partially visible Miss Granger, "has seen fit to spread her school yard pranks against her teachers into the summer. Severus caught her trespassing on his property and has brought her down for charges."

Fudge blinked owlishly to Lucius then to the girl. "Trespassing? Hardly a reason to drag her to the Ministry. Wouldn't that be better handled at school?"

"Normally, but school is out for the summer. She falls under Ministry jurisdiction now." Malfoy's lips twisted into a smirk as he met Arthur's eyes. "I would think expulsion at the very least."

Bloody hell! He couldn't let Miss Granger be expelled over this. She was the school's brightest student! Not to mention Minerva would have his bollocks in a vice for costing her her most highly prized student. Arthur also shouted his objections to that, but Fudge waved them to silence.

"Now, let's not be rash. Perhaps we should hear Miss… I'm sorry, child, but I didn't catch your name."

"Her name is Hermione Granger, a Muggleborn." The distaste was thick on Malfoy's lips. Fudge nodded.

"Very well, Miss Granger, perhaps you could tell us why you saw fit to trespass on your professor's property."

Hermione swallowed, looking at the three wizards before her, still close to Arthur's side. "It's… it's personal, Sir. It's for him only."

"Now, girl, this is a serious matter. Surely there's nothing you could have to say to him that you can't tell the rest of us." The Minister gave her what he surely thought was a gentle, harmless smile.

Severus looked at the girl, waiting for her to stay something. Miss Granger, however, flicked her eyes from the Minister to Lucius Malfoy and… shuddered? She shook her head and looked back to the Minister. "I'm sorry, Sir, but I can't. It's for Professor Snape only."

Malfoy gave a disdainful snort. "As you can see, Minister, the girl is incorrigible. Doubtless due to her near constant companionship to Weasley's band of delinquents."

Arthur's face turned purple and he looked about ready to strike his long time enemy. Cornelius, ever the politician, stepped between them. "Now, now, let's not let this devolve into a brawl." He studied the girl clinging to Arthur's side. "Perhaps it would be best to bring Dumbledore in on this matter. After all, it does involve both a student and a professor. Yes, I think that would be for the best."

The Minister escorted them all to his office and asked his secretary to clear his calendar as well as invite Dumbledore to join them on a matter involving the school. This was quickly becoming a farce, and Severus was already regretting his temper. With Lucius involved, keeping the chit from being expelled would be tricky.

Minerva was going to flay him alive.

Arthur spoke to Miss Granger softly; trying to coax her into just telling them whatever was so important so that they could, perhaps, get on with things. She still refused, no longer even trying to meet Snape's eyes. Finally, Dumbledore arrived but that seemed to make her all the more miserable.

The headmaster was clearly surprised to see his student in the same room with four grown wizards. "Miss Granger, what are you doing here?"

Fudge cleared his throat. "Sorry to trouble you, Albus, but according to Professor Snape Miss Granger was caught trespassing on his property. Something about a message she is to give to him, but she refuses to discuss it with any of us."

Dumbledore frowned and looked from Severus to Hermione. "Minister, perhaps I could speak with Miss Granger in private?"

"Of course, Albus. There is a spare office across the hall. Please feel free to take as long as you like."

Albus nodded. "Thank you. Miss Granger, if you please."

Severus watched the girl rise from her secure spot in the crook of Arthur's arm, the man really was a natural father figure, and left the room with the headmaster. The door shut behind them.

"What do you think this is all about, Severus? I was under the impression that you had those idiot children thoroughly cowed."

Snape shook his head and wondered if he should just get out from between Lucius and Arthur and watch whatever blood bath ensued. The Minister's assistant brought them tea and he accepted a cup out of good manners but did not drink. Instead he sat in silence, mentally cursing himself for his own lack of control.

The door opened again, Dumbledore allowing a rather stone faced Miss Granger to enter before him. The aged wizard leveled a somber look towards Snape. "Severus, your wand, please. And I'll need you to roll up your sleeve."

Snape rose from his seat and pulled out his wand. He handed it over to the headmaster and rolled up the sleeve covering his right arm. Albus pressed the tip of his wand to the soft underside of his arm. There was a sharp pinch against the skin, but in spite of a shining drop of blood now gracing the tip of his wand, there was no mark on the skin.

Dumbledore turned towards Miss Granger. "Hermione, your wand, please." The witch took her wand from her pocket and extended it to the headmaster, also rolling up her sleeve. Albus took a drop of blood from her as well.

Severus' blood ran cold. Surely he couldn't believe…

Albus brought the tips of the two wands together. There was a strong flash of light that made all but Dumbledore flinch, then a high pitched, tinkling sound. When their eyes had recovered from the flash they saw that hovering above the joined wand tips was a teardrop shaped, faceted crystal, a soft rose in hue. It would have been blue had Miss Granger been a wizard instead of a witch.

Lucius rose to his feet, unable to hide his own shock. "Severus?"

Dumbledore lowered the wands, the crystal still hovering. "You should have heard her out, Severus." He cleared his throat and offered their wands back to them. "You see, Minister, last week Miss Granger was informed that she is a Granger by means of adoption rather than by birth. She was completely ignorant of that fact before, but her birth mother had made arrangements should anything happen to her before Miss Granger came of age. Among those arrangements was information as to the identity of her birth father."

Snape slid his wand back into the hidden pocket within his sleeve, not daring to try and speak just yet. He did not meet the headmaster's eyes, but he could feel the sympathy in the old man's gaze like a crushing weight. "It has taken her the entire week to work up the strength of will to attempt to speak with you about it, Severus. You are not always the most approachable of people."

His eyes moved up to look at Albus before flicking over to Miss Granger. The girl was still unable to meet his eyes. She seemed to want to look anywhere but at him, though considering how badly he'd handled this entire matter so far he could hardly blame her.

Albus cleared his throat again. "I trust that given this new revelation the charges will be dropped."

Not even Lucius could argue with this one, and it was a perfect out that he could use to save face and keep his body parts from being transfigured into cacti by an enraged Scot. Well, near perfect. "Of course, Headmaster."

Fudge shook himself from his state of shock. "Yes, well. Congratulations, I suppose. I… perhaps we could leave the two of you alone so that you can… discuss matters. You're welcome to use my office, of course. Much more comfortable here."

"No, Sir. Thank you." Miss Granger had decided to speak at last. Snape watched as the girl's spine straightened, her chin lifting. She met his gaze at last and he could see the anger there, not even hiding beneath the surface of her gaze. "This errand wasn't supposed to take so long, Minister. It was supposed to be a simple matter of delivering a message from… from my birth mother to Professor Snape. I don't have time to linger."

"But surely you have much you wish to discuss together."

"No, Minister, at the moment I have nothing at all I wish to discuss with him. And at any rate, my _parents,_" she put a strong emphasis on the word, her eyes daring him to say anything against it, "and I have a planned holiday to France. We're to leave in the morning and I have a great deal of packing yet to do."

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course, Miss Granger. Please forgive us for keeping you so late. Minister, I do hope you can spare Arthur for the rest of the day so that he may escort Miss Granger home. I assure you that she'll be quite safe with him. She is a friend of his children and the Grangers already know Molly and Arthur well."

Cornelius looked a bit discomfited, but there was nothing to be done to make this situation any more comfortable. He agreed, waving Arthur off. The red headed wizard gave the girl a supportive hug and invited her to leave with him. She held back only a moment, pulling a crumpled envelope from inside her jeans pocket and extending it towards Severus.

"Your message, Sir." Her words were tense, her lips barely moving as she spoke. Severus reached out and took the envelope without a word. Task accomplished, Hermione gave him curt nod. "Happy Summer."

He watched as Miss Granger left the Minister's office with Arthur Weasley, slipping the envelop into the pocket of his robe. Thought it couldn't have been more than a few ounces, it pulled at him with all the weight of a fully-grown hippogriff.

He really could have handled this entire day far better.


	2. Chapter 2

Lucius had offered the use of his army of barristers and to cover all the legal expenses. It was his opinion that the fact Hermione had been raised by Muggles when she clearly belonged in the magical world was unconscionable. As far as he was concerned, this explained her outstanding performance at school as well. Surely no mudblood could have ever been that clever or that powerful.

Narcissa had allowed her husband to go through his little tirade and then calmly became the voice of reason. Few understood just how much influence the elegant witch had on her husband, but even he had to agree with her in the end. Teenagers were an overly emotional lot at the best of times and girls were doubly so. Narcissa pointed out that Hermione was nearly fourteen and that the Grangers were the only parents she'd ever known. The adoption papers, a copy of which he had been provided, had been started before she'd been born so they had literally had her all her life. To tear her away from them would only lead to her resenting him if not breed outright hatred.

_"But on the other hand, you can offer her something her parents cannot, Severus. They're Muggles. They can't possibly hope to understand the world she's become a part of. As a wizard and a father figure, you can benefit from the events as they have unfolded. Let the Grangers be the ones to take on the bulk of the parental duties. You will be free to become her confidant and friend. You can be the one she turns to in all things dealing with our world."_

It was sensible, and preferable. He didn't really want to deal with a hormonal teenage witch any more than he had to. He suffered their presence by the dozens every day during the school year. That was bad enough.

On the other hand, once the initial shock had worn off he couldn't help but look at matters from a different angle. There was a blood connection between himself and Hermione Granger. She was the brightest witch in the school. Shining with talent and promise. Any wizard would have been proud to have brought such a girl into the world.

If he could only dissuade her from her current choice of friends.

He had read the 'message' from her birth mother, of course. He had shoved the name Kathryn St. James from his mind years ago. Lucius had called her his 'Muggle Bed Warmer'. The Dark Lord had considered her his distraction, enough so that he had ordered her killed. The task had been given to Montague, mainly because the necromancer had a particular dislike for the woman. The feeling had been mutual.

Severus had been unaware of the order, of course. Lucius only told him after it was too late to do anything about it. By then he had already joined Dumbledore and was horrified that he had led a seemingly innocent woman to her death, but he had forced himself to show no emotion regarding it. They had been together for a little more than six months, though it was a relationship based mainly on physical release and not any real affection from either of them.

Still, there had been an emptiness after she was gone.

Not that he had proof Montague had killed her. Far to the contrary; it was Montague who had been found the next morning. Or at least, the pieces of him. His favorite method of torture and murder had been to call forth inferi, animated corpses to do his bidding. From what they had been able to tell his own creations had turned against him, tearing him limb from limb. There had been no sign of Kathryn. Lucius had accompanied Severus to her flat to find it barren; all her furniture and possessions gone. All that was there was a single, dark red rose left on a countertop in the kitchen. Not even a note of farewell.

In truth, it was not the first time he'd had reason to suspect that she wasn't as much of a Muggle as she liked to claim, though he knew she wasn't a witch. She'd always seemed to know just a bit too much. Had been unfazed by the revelation of the existence of magic and wizards. And how many Muggle women collected antique weaponry as a hobby, and knew how to use it as well?

Her letter had given him few answers other than why she had chosen the Grangers (Hannah Granger had been a friend of hers while attending the University and had been unable to have children of her own) and that she had suspected Hermione might take after him. She also admitted in her letter that she'd had no intention of ever telling Hermione the truth about her parentage until she had indulged in a desire to see the girl and had observed the first signs of magic when she had inadvertently fended of some would-be bully boys with a wave of sand from a play pit. After that she had thought it best to make arrangements should anything happen to her before the girl came of age.

There had been nothing else. No confession about how she'd escaped Montague, though he hadn't really expected one. No apology for not telling him he was going to be a father, though he hadn't really expected that, either. She had told him that she had not been cut out to be a mother and had thought him an even poorer candidate to be a father, and he was unable to disagree with her. The one confession she did make in her letter was that she considered her act of giving Hermione to a loving couple who would make her the center of their world to be the one truly decent act of her entire life.

Considering that the Kathryn he'd known had been just as disagreeable and cold as himself outside of the bedroom, Severus knew she was likely correct in her assessment.

He had waited patiently for the Grangers to return from their holiday in France before approaching them. Lucius had offered to go with him, but he'd thought it best to do this on his own. He'd found Hannah and Jacob to be surprisingly intelligent but a bit too accepting. He doubted that, had their roles been reversed, he would have been so willing to discuss a contested child. True to Narcissa's view of the matter, however, the fact that they came from two separate worlds did help. They understood that they were ill prepared to counsel their daughter on magical matters and agreed that it would likely beneficial for Hermione to have an adult she could go to in the magical world. They were willing to let him pursue a possible relationship outside that of teacher.

The only obstacle was Hermione herself, for which Severus knew he had only himself to blame. To his relief, the Grangers had raised a respectful and (mostly) obedient daughter. She heard her parents out and agreed (reluctantly) to give him another chance. The first test would be to accompany him to Diagon Alley. She had to purchase her school supplies and there was the matter of an inheritance left to her by her birth mother.

That had surprised Severus. Apparently after learning that the child she had brought into the world was a witch, Kathryn had made arrangements to have her estate liquidated and the assets moved from Muggle banks to Gringotts in the event of her death. She'd even secured a wizard barrister to oversee the process. Adam Dawlish met them at the bank and, along with a representative from Gringotts, sat with them in a small office off to one side to complete the paperwork.

"Now, Miss Granger, Ms St. James had a sizeable estate at the time of her passing. She apparently made her living in the Muggle entertainment industry writing books and scripts under various pen names. However she was jealous of her privacy and hired individuals to pose as her public faces. Her will stated that the estate was to be liquidated and divided in halves. One half is being dispersed between her staff and her surrogates as payment for their services. The other half has been transferred to our world in your name."

He removed copies of the documentation; one for Hermione, one for Severus and one for the Gringott's goblin. "We've already deducted the required taxes and fees, including the fees for my services. The remaining amount is yours in its entirety."

Severus flipped to the back page and froze. Hermione's voice sounded from off to his right. "Is… is this figure correct?"

The goblin cleared its throat. "Our accountants have double checked the figures twelve times, Miss Granger. And please allow me to extend our welcome to you on behalf of the bank. Gringotts looks forward to helping you manage your investments and finances and has several programs you might find beneficial to growth. Once you have healed from your period of mourning, of course."

Beneficial to growth? How much gold did the greedy little bastards think one witch needed? Severus was looking at a figure that was larger than the fortunes held by many pure blood families. Had Kathryn been this well off while they were together? He'd known she'd never wanted for anything, but she had never struck him as 'wealthy'.

He looked over at Hermione as she signed the papers confirming that she'd been given the information no her accounts. He was to sign them as well, since he was here as her magical guardian. He was relieved to see a lack of any greed or excitement in the girl. In fact, she looked somewhat ill at ease at the prospect of being responsible for such a large sum of money. Hopefully she would keep that level headed view throughout her life.

They rose from the meeting table, shaking hands with Dawlish. The wizard went to put the signed forms into his briefcase and seemed to remember something else. "One more thing, Miss Granger. Ms. St. James also left you this. She said that you would figure it out in time." He handed her an envelope that matched the one Kathryn had left for him. Hermione took it, staring at the neat hand writing on the back curiously, but not opening it just yet.

They'd made a quick trip to her vault before leaving the bank, securing the gold she would need to purchase her school supplies. Her account took up one of the larger vaults, deep underground where the names were few; Malfoy, Black and Parkinson being the most prominent ones. She'd been frozen in shock at the sight of it all, eventually only daring to venture in as far as was needed to fill her bank bag and quickly retreating. Severus glanced at the new name plaque over the top of her vault, stating GRANGER in tall, gold letters.

So much for keeping this out of the gossip parlors. She wouldn't have a vault down here unless she had the galleons to fill it, and there were no other Grangers in their world. Having a clever and powerful daughter was bad enough. Now he had fortune hunting blackguards to look forward to as well.

Conversation was sparse while at the bank, and continued to be so as they first stepped into Diagon Alley. He concentrated on keeping his tongue in check, which was quite difficult when he was surrounded by idiots. As the time passed, however, Hermione relaxed somewhat in his company and it struck him that she might be as nervous as he.

Well, of course she was! He as the Potions Master, enemy to all Gryffindors. He'd never shown the girl one ounce of kindness nor had he ever praised her brilliance as the other teachers had done on a regular basis. He'd called her 'silly' and 'foolish', even when she had brewed a successfully polyjuice potion just last year, her only mistake being not to check her final ingredient a little more closely. That deed alone proved her to be his daughter. He had seventh years who couldn't have pulled that off.

He accompanied her to the potions supply shop and kept her from being taken advantage of by over-inflated prices. He'd even been patient and tolerated Madam Malkins as she was fitted for new robes (she'd grown a bit since last time). At the book shop, however, he became a bit concerned.

"Why do you have all of these books on your list? Some of these classes overlap."

"Oh, well, I couldn't decide what I wanted to take, so I just signed up for everything."

Severus arched a brow at her. "Everything? Did Professor McGonagall not double check your list?"

Hermione nodded. "She did. We talked about it and she said that she thought she might know a way to get around it and left it as is." The girl gave him a somewhat bashful smile and a shrug even as she tried to keep her Monster Book of Monsters from biting her arm. Severus took it from her and ran a finger down the spine. The book shuddered, and then fell open with a purr.

Hermione grinned and thanked him, taking the book back. Doubtless she'd been worried that she wouldn't be able to get it open so she could read the text inside. After all, she couldn't very well have all the answers if she couldn't read, now could she?

Still, the list was too much. "You will work yourself into madness with a course load like this. Some of the classes you should be able to do without easily enough. For example, I can assure you that you will not like Divination. It's too shadowy and insubstantial a subject for an analytical mind. And although I'm certain that like any young girl you would enjoy learning about animals, I do not foresee that any eventual career path you might be drawn to would require you take Care of Magical Creatures."

She looked up from her book with a curious expression. "You think so?"

He nodded. "Your basic courses should stand; Potions, Transfiguration and Charms. I would think you'd enjoy arithmancy. It is the type of subject matter someone of your intelligence would find appealing, and it would allow you to exercise your logic skills."

She seemed to be seriously considering the matter when her name was called. Both of them turned to see Molly Weasley approaching, her school-aged brood close behind. Distrusting Gryffindor eyes studied him as Molly hugged Hermione to her. "There you are, Dear. Did you have a nice summer?"

Hermione nodded. "Very nice, Mrs. Weasley, thank you."

Molly turned her attention to Severus. "Professor Snape, it's good to see you outside of the school." It was just a pleasantry, of course, but the niceties had to be observed. He inclined his head politely. This had been part of the agreement as well; he was to remain with Hermione until such time as she was to be passed off to the Weasleys. She would journey to the school train in the morning with them and Potter. Safety in numbers given that Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban.

Sirius Black. There was a name he'd hoped never to hear again. Couple that with Dumbledore giving the DADA position to that flea bitten werewolf and this entire school year promised to be a living hell.

Severus gave a cursory glance to Hermione's friends. They were better than some of his Slytherins he supposed, but he still would have rather the girl had been sorted into Ravenclaw. A better class of students and more chances that her friends would at least be her intellectual equals. "I believe it is time I took my leave of you, Hermione. We will speak again when you arrive at school."

His daughter gave him a nod of understanding. "Yes, Sir. And thank you for coming with me today. I didn't really want to go through all that on my own."

He could understand that. Though she'd never met Kathryn, she was still connected to her. It was a loss even if it wasn't a sharp one. He looked at the bulging bags containing her school supplies. "Do you have a book you wish to keep out to read? If so, I can shrink the rest to make them easier to carry with you."

She blinked, surprised by the offer. With a longing glance to the monster book in her hands, she considered the question. A second later she closed the book and placed it into her bags, pulling out her arithmancy text instead. Apparently his suggestion did sink in. With a wave of his wand he shrank the bags of books so that they'd tuck nicely into the bag containing her new robes and making a much lighter, more easily carried burden.

He gave a polite nod of his head to Molly and wished her a good day and safe journey. Molly invited him to stay and have dinner with them at the Leaky Cauldron, but the glint in the Weasley Twins' eyes warned him that would be an unwise move. He gave a polite refusal and took his leave.

It was hard, walking away from the girl. She'd just started to open up to him and show him some glimmer of the bright girl inside. The clever little witch that he'd helped to create, even if he hadn't had a hand in raising her.

_Patience, Severus._ That would have been Narcissa's advice. He needed to exercise patience. He was suffering under a thirteen year disadvantage, but for the next nine months he would be the closest parental figure to whom she could turn.

* * *

Hermione didn't care what Ron said. She thought Crookshanks was gorgeous. She'd had a little money her parents had given her birthday. At first she had thought she'd like an owl, but the massive cat with ginger fur was just too clever to pass up.

And, honestly, what did Ron expect a cat to do when presented with a rat?

"Did the git do anything mean to you, Hermione?" That was Fred's first question after they'd sat down for dinner.

"We'll be happy to get the bastard for you if he did." Trust George to put his two knuts in.

"Actually, he wasn't bad at all. It was a great improvement over that day at the Ministry."

"You mean when he was pushing to have you chucked out of school for trespassing. Had nowhere to go but up from there." George nodded in agreement with his brother as they passed the rolls her way.

"I still can't believe you're Snape's daughter."

"Ron, don't talk with your mouth full."

"Sorry, Mum."

"I'm not his daughter. Not really, anyway. Mum and Dad are my parents. I just… have an extra one is all." Hermione gave a nervous look over at Harry. Ron had had most of the summer and a trip to Egypt to wrap his mind around the discovery, but she'd never figured out how to tell Harry in a letter. She imagined it had been quite a shock. "Are… are you all right, Harry?"

Green eyes peered back at her from behind his wire rimmed glasses. Then the puckish face split into a grin. "Am I all right? I'm not the one who's half-Snape. Are _you_ all right, Hermione?"

Ron grinned. "Not gonna turn into a bat on us, are you?"

"Not gonna try to take off points?"

Something tense inside her relaxed a bit. "Prats." There was no heat in it. Ginny giggled at her elbow.

"Careful or she'll throw you in detention!"

The children all broke into laughter. Molly and Arthur watched them fondly before encouraging them to eat up. They were going to be rushed in the morning. There would be little time for breakfast.

After a good meal and some rather excellent pudding, Hermione went up to the room she was sharing with Ginny. The other girl was too busy distracting Percy long enough for the twins to nick his Head Boy badge to pay any attention to her. It allowed her to pull out the envelope Mr. Dawlish had given her.

She sat down on the bed and looked at the vellum colored paper. She'd never met Kathryn. She hadn't even seen a picture of her because her Mum was still trying to figure out where she'd packed all that stuff away. Still, there had been this stranger who gave birth to her but who had decided she couldn't be a mother to her. Since learning about it Hermione had been flip-flopping between feelings of anger, rejection and sadness. She just wasn't certain what she was supposed to be feeling.

She opened the envelope carefully and pulled out the folded paper inside. She'd expected a letter of some sort. Perhaps some explanation as to why she'd been given up. Instead she found a sheet bearing a set of rather complex looking equations.

A frown creased her brow. Her mum had told her Kathy was quite sharp. They'd both been at the university together studying forensic medicine, but her mum had quickly learned she had no stomach for it and had switched to dentistry. Kathy had carried on with it and they had believed she had eventually ended up working with law enforcement somewhere in the states. Never had the concept of her writing books and movie screenplays for a living entered into the thought process.

The equations weren't solved. Was that what Kathy had meant for her to do? If so, what was it about them that she was supposed to understand? Still, it was a puzzle and Hermione did enjoy a good puzzle. She looked at them again, but didn't bother to take out any parchment or quill to get started trying to solve them. She just looked at them and tried to work it out in her head.

Thirty minutes later she had a massive headache and felt as though her eyes were going to cross. With a sigh she returned the paper to the envelope and tucked it inside her arithmancy text. She'd work on it properly after she got to school. For now she needed her sleep and Ginny had just come back into the room, grinning like a fool. Hermione had to wonder just what the twins had done this time.


	3. Chapter 3

"Now, you understand how important it is that no one knows about this, Miss Granger."

"Yes, Professor. I understand." Hermione held the tiny hourglass in her hand, staring at it in wonder. The ability to turn back time! Such things were closely monitored by the Ministry of Magic. That Professor McGonagall would entrust her with this was… there weren't any words to describe it, really. "Thank you, Professor. Thank you so much."

Minerva smiled at the young girl before her. "No need to thank me, Miss Granger. We could hardly discourage such an eager young mind from learning. Now, hurry on. I'm certain Mr. Potter would like to get to the Great Hall before all the food is gone."

The girl grinned brightly and nodded again. Before Minerva could think a pair of spindly arms hugged her fiercely about the middle. She couldn't remember the last time a student had actually hugged her, but there was Miss Granger squeezing her tightly for the briefest of moments before she hurried out to walk with Mr. Potter to the feast.

There was simply no way that charming, bright little girl could be Severus'.

* * *

Hermione tucked her time turner back down the neckline of her robes and slipped into an empty desk near the front of the class. Her very first day in arithmancy! Professor Vector was supposed to be absolutely brilliant. She couldn't wait.

Glancing around she saw that she was a bit outnumbered. Okay, she was much outnumbered since she was the only Gryffindor in the class. The same could be said for Blaise Zabini being the only Slyltherin. There were two Hufflepuffs and the rest were Ravenclaws. No surprise there.

It was another few minutes before the start of class and she was antsy. Trying to distract herself she opened her textbook and frowned as she found the envelope from Kathryn. She'd forgotten she'd tucked that there. Suddenly much calmer and perhaps even a bit sad she ran a finger along the surface of the paper. She was about to open it and take the list of equations out again but Professor Vector arrived. The page was quickly pushed to the back of her mind in favor of lessons.

* * *

"You did _what_?"

Minerva arched a brow at her fellow professor. "I secured permission from the Ministry of Magic to give Miss Granger a time turner to use while here at the school. It was the only way for her to make all of her classes on time."

Severus' jaw dropped. "Did it ever occur to you to simply have her drop a few? I've already thought of two that she doesn't even need."

Minerva's other brow went up. "I'm sorry, Severus, but I was under the impression that, _legally_, the Grangers were Hermione's guardians." As soon as the words left her mouth she regretted them. "I'm sorry, Severus. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you should not have." He mustn't curse his fellow professor. Albus would never allow it anyway. "Regardless, you should not be encouraging the girl to work herself into an early grave."

"I seem to recall, Severus, that there was another student who was granted the use of a time turner in order to attend all of his classes." The Headmaster's voice was tinged with amusement. How_did _the insufferable man get into rooms without being seen? "As I recall, he was a particularly bright young Slytherin student who wanted to take both Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. Strikingly familiar, don't you think?"

Snape tugged an imaginary wrinkle from his robes. "Not at all. I was only trying to add one additional class, _not_ the entire curriculum. She's taken on too much."

"Why Severus, I do think that idea of fatherhood is warming to you."

It was frustrating that his best glares failed to work on the wizard. Albus merely twinkled even more. "It just seems to me that if you wish Miss Granger to continue her unprecedented academic success that perhaps a little restraint should be imposed upon her."

"Miss Granger?" Minerva was enjoying this far too much. "Isn't it past time you referred to her by her given name? After all, she's family."

He'd had enough! Without another word he turned on his heel to leave the teachers' lounge, ignoring the flea-bitten werewolf on his way out. The door slammed shut but not before he heard Lupin inquire if something were wrong.

* * *

An excess of classes meant a great deal of homework. That, of course, meant library time for Hermione. The witch stacked all her books in order of her schedule, set to start her assignments one by one. She had completed her Charms essay and was halfway through Transfiguration when someone invited themselves to her table. "I'm not going to do your Potions essay for you."

"I don't need you to."

The drawling voice made her cringe. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Nothing, really. I just came in here to study and needed a seat."

Hermione looked up at the pale boy across from her before flicking her eyes around the library. "Looks like your fellow Slytherins are over there, and they have a spare chair for you."

"But you're over here."

"But I'm not a Slytherin."

"You might as well be."

She blinked at him, unable to believe what she just heard. "I beg your pardon."

"You heard me, _Snape_."

Her eyes narrowed. "That's not my name."

"Only because your mother did my godfather dirty. You're better off without her, Hermione, you really are. Any woman who would deny her child the right to know her own father… well it hardly bares considering." He jerked his head towards the Slytherin students on the far side of the library. "Why don't you gather your books and come sit with us. It's where you belong."

She opened her mouth to tear into the boy who had been calling her 'mudblood' and wishing her to be eaten by a basilisk just last year when a warm voice broke in. "Trouble here, Granger?" Hermione craned her neck up to see Cedric Diggory standing above them. The fifth year Hufflepuff prefect placed a hand on the back of her chair, watching Draco closely.

"You're not causing problems are you, Malfoy?"

"Sod off, Diggory." Hermoine gasped at Malfoy's complete and utter lack of respect for a Prefect.

Cedric apparently didn't find it amusing, either. "Five points from Slytherin, Malfoy. Now get up and leave Granger to study in peace. She doesn't need you harassing her."

Draco glared at Diggory but got up and rejoined his housemates. Hermione craned her neck back again and smiled up at the older boy. "Thank you."

Diggory smiled and tapped the end of her nose lightly with the tip of his finger. "Think nothing of it." He moved away from behind her chair and took the table next to hers, settling in to do some studying of his own. With everything once again right in the world, Hermione returned to her essays.

Potions seemed a bit too easy for her. There was a little knot of dread in her stomach that was quite certain Professor Snape would be three times as hard on her now that their connection was known, demanding nothing less than perfection in her work. She rewrote it twice before she was satisfied. She had no homework in Herbology so she set that book aside. Divination, no matter how hard she tried, was frustratingly stupid. Still, she managed to get her assignment there done without rolling her eyes too much

Finally she came to her arithmancy assignment. Now _this_ was something she could sink her teeth into! Why this wasn't a required course she couldn't fathom. Although, were it to be made into one she'd likely have to listen to Ron and Harry complain incessantly.

She lost herself in the numbers and symbols, completing the assigned problems far too soon. She gave a slight smile and a happy little sigh as she skimmed over her calculations, the still-wet ink glistening under the torchlight. She set the parchment aside to dry and looked back at her book. Kathy's envelope peeked out from between the pages.

Her fingers pull the paper out almost as though of their own volition. She unfolded the page and smoothed it out, looking at the equations again. She'd skimmed through her text book on the train up until the time the Dementors had disrupted them, but this was the first time she'd actually been able to give the paper a solid look since that night at the inn. Looking close, the equations resembled arithmancy a great deal. Almost too much so considering that Mum and Dad were certain that Kathryn had not been a witch.

She pulled out a spare bit of parchment and copied the equations down leaving more room between them for scratch work. Line by line she started working on them, almost glued to the figures and lines. It felt almost like a compulsion, drawing her in even though her eyes started to burn and her head began to feel much like there was a little man inside it slugging away at her skull with a hammer. The feeling continued to grow making her eyes start to go cross and still she remained bent over her task until a hand came to rest on her shoulder, shaking her out of her work.

She gave a small 'yip' of surprise and looked up too quickly. The sudden movement sent a bolt of pain shooting behind her eyes, making her wince. Diggory frowned down at her. "Are you all right?"

"Fine. I'm fine." She set her quill down and rubbed her eyes. "Just a bit of a headache is all."

The Hufflepuff boy studied her quietly for a second, his book satchel over one shoulder. "You'd better get a move on or Madam Pince is going to drag you out of here by your hair." He reached out and started helping her to secure them into her own satchel. "Come on, I'll walk you back to the tower and help you watch for snakes."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you, again. It's really nice of you to help me with them, but you don't have to walk me back."

"I think I'd better. It's too close to curfew. This way you won't risk getting into any trouble." He tilted his head to one side consideringly. "Perhaps I should take you up to the hospital wing first. Get you something for that headache."

Her head really was hurting, but she didn't relish the idea of drinking some foul headache potion. "I'm sure I was just studying too hard, is all. It'll likely go away with sleep."

Diggory didn't look completely convinced, but he dropped it. They bade a good-bye to Madam Pince as they walked out. Cedric offered to switch satchels with her since she had a good many more books than he, but she declined while hoping that the faint warmth she felt in her cheeks wasn't a blush. He was just being nice. That's what Hufflepuffs did!

They were growing closer to the tower when a voice called out to them. Hermione looked up to see Percy Weasley coming closer, his Head Boy badge back to normal from when the twins had jinxed it to read "Big Head Boy". "Trouble, Diggory?"

"Not at all, Perce. We both lost track of time in the library and I thought it best to walk her up so she didn't get in trouble." Cedric grinned and nodded his head to Hermione. "Everyone knows how this one gets caught up if you don't watch her."

Hermione's cheeks flushed hot. To her embarrassment Percy returned Diggory's grin. "Yes, well, it's likely what will land her 'Head Girl' before it's all said and done. I'll take it from here, Cedric. Thank you."

Hermione looked up to say good-bye to Cedric and to thank him again for his kindness, but another burst of pain exploded behind her eyes. The prefect paused. "You might want to see if you can bully her up to the hospital wing, Weasley. Her head's hurting her, but she wouldn't listen to me."

Percy's expression turned to one of worry. "I see. Thank you, Cedric." He took Hermione's arm and started to direct her not in the direction of the tower but towards the stair case that led to the hospital wing. Diggory was already out of sight.

"Percy, I don't need the hospital wing! I just need to sleep."

"Mum would skin me alive if I let any of you take ill. Don't fight or you might trip. We'll just get you a headache potion and you'll be back in your dorm in no time."

"But it's not that simple. You _know_ how fussy _she_ gets!"

"It's Madam Pomfrey's job to be fussy. You're far too old to be acting this way, Hermione. Now buck up and come along quietly."

She stopped struggling with a groan and went along. Damn tattle-tale Diggory! She let Percy drag her to the hospital wing where he stood with his hands clasped behind his back and his jaw set stubbornly while Madam Pomfrey looked her over. Finding no fever, sign of illness or problem with her vision (she thought perhaps Hermione might need glasses, but it wasn't the case) the mediwitch dosed her with a potion that tasted like old socks soaked in peppermint before sending her off to bed. She offered to give Hermione a note to miss classes the following day, but that was just unthinkable!

Still pouting at Percy's back she followed him back to Gryffindor tower. She bristled a bit at him telling her to get off to bed, but did as she was told more out of fear that he'd tell his mum on her than that he might take off points. Molly Weasley was scary! Returning to the third year girls' dorm she switched into her nightdress and crawled between the magically warmed sheets to close her eyes.

Throughout the night Hermione's dreams were filled with spiraling numbers and odd equations glowing with a bright, gold light. They stood out like a beacon in a pit of pitch black night and from the shadows she thought she heard cold whispers. Try as she might, she couldn't make out what they were saying.

It was hardly a restful sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Her head was pounding again the next morning, though not as fiercely as the previous night. The headache potion had not yet worn off, but it was weakening. Hermione looked at breakfast dispassionately, unable to work up an appetite at all.

"Have a bit of toast, at least. You've got a full day ahead of you."

She was going to sock Percy Weasley right smack in his Head Boy nose if he didn't leave her alone! The eldest Weasley boy was acting like the consummate mother hen. Even worse than when Ginny had waning under the power of Riddle's diary the previous year. Still, not wishing to be yanked up to the hospital wing for another round with Madam Pomfrey, she accepted the proffered slice of toast and took a bite.

Ron grabbed another sausage, but he was also frowning at her. "You all right, 'Mione? It's not Snape, is it?"

"Professor Snape, Ron." Really, she was growing weary of correcting him all the time. "And no, it has nothing to do with him. I've just got a bit of a headache is all."

"Probably all the classes you're taking. And it's only the first weak, 'Mione. If it's getting to you already you'd best chuck a few before you really make yourself ill."

Harry, wisely, said nothing. He did agree with Ron, though. Hermione could see it in his eyes. "I'm not chucking any classes. I just need to pace myself a bit better is all." The toast settled uneasily inside her stomach. She'd feel a lot better if her head would just stop hurting! She closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples, which would explain why she didn't notice Percy get up from his seat at the table and make his way to the head table where the professors were seated.

The Gryffindors were looking forward to their first Care of Magical Creatures class. Mainly because they wanted to support Hagrid. To that end when the others in the tower had complained that they couldn't even open their books Hermione had shared the trick Severus had shown her. With knowing grins thrown over at the Slytherin table, some of who had their books nearby and still tied shut, they waited for the time to go.

She managed to choke down the rest of her toast and a bit of her pumpkin juice. After waiting for her stomach to stop rebelling she got up and headed to the door of the Great Hall, only to be stopped by Professor Snape and Percy Weasley.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley has informed me that you are unwell. I trust you are on your way to the hospital wing."

Hermione blinked at the potions master before shooting an angry glare at Percy. Selling a fellow Gryffindor out to a Slytherin! The nerve! "I'm not unwell, Sir. It's just a little headache."

Snape studied her for a moment. "Thank you for your concern, Mr. Weasley. Come with me, Miss Granger."

Percy nodded to Professor Snape and went on his way, ignoring Hermione's displeased expression. With a heavy sigh she started to follow Severus towards the hospital wing. Only, they didn't go to the hospital wing. Instead he lead her into an empty class room and invited her to sit down, taking the seat next to her for himself.

"Hermione, I had a talk with your Head of House yesterday morning regarding your class schedule. She informed me of the steps taken to allow you to keep such a heavy course load. While I applaud your drive and thirst for knowledge, I must voice concern over what such excessive use of a Time Turner can do to a young mind. If you are already starting to feel the strain of it then you will only find it harder as the year progresses."

Her mouth opened slightly as she imagined Professor McGonagall demanding she hand the device over. "But, it's not the Time Turner, Sir! I just… it's probably just the stress of everything that's happened over the summer. And worrying about Harry, of course. I can do this! I know I can!"

He looked unconvinced. Her heart was hammering inside her chest and the increased pulse did nothing to help her headache. "Please, Sir, just a little more time. Please? Once I get back in step with things I'm sure I'll be fine."

She thought he would tell her 'no' and demand the necklace right then and there. Her expression fell immediately into the same, doe-eyed look she used on her Dad, even though she knew Severus Snape was likely unmoved by such tactics. Still, after a long, painful silence, he gave a nod.

"I'll give it one week, Hermione. If you do not look as though you're turning around before this time next Tuesday then I will insist to your Head of House that your class schedule be trimmed back to something more manageable."

She let go of a breath she hadn't even known she was holding. "Thank you, Sir." She offered a weak smile. "I… I should be going. I'll be late for class."

Severus reached into his robe and pulled out a little tin. "Here, have a couple of these before you go." He opened the lid to reveal what looked like hard, yellow candies.

"Lemon drops?"

Snape smirked. "After a fashion. I make them for the headmaster. He is an older wizard and feels the aches and pains that come with time and living through two magical wars. Still, it wouldn't do for him to be seen as dependent on a pain relieving potion, so hiding it behind his sweet tooth was a better option."

That was brilliant. Hermione plucked out two of the candies with a soft 'thank you'. She popped them into her mouth before leaving the room. They really did taste just like lemon drops, which made her suspect that most of the potions he brewed for Madam Pomfrey didn't have to taste so terrible. They were effective, too. Her headache was reduced to a barely noticeable pinprick by the time she joined the rest of the class, just in time to watch the stupefied expressions on the Slytherins when all the Gryffindors opened their books without the slightest trouble.

For a first lesson it held the promise of being a good one. Buckbeak was magnificent, if a little intimidating. And although she knew Harry had been scared out of his wits, he handled it beautifully. Did she not dislike flying she would have been jealous. As it was, she was just eager to pet one of the creatures to see if the feathers felt as silky as they looked.

An angry cry and a frightened scream snatched her attention from the hippogriff before her. Malfoy was on the ground, clutching his arm and screaming. Buckbeak was rearing up, ready to strike again. The class was thrown into chaos as Hagrid called off the hippogriff, but it was clear the damage was done. The class was dismissed as Hagrid rushed Draco up to the hospital wing.

The events during class hung like a dark cloud over their heads as the Gryffindors assembled at their table in the Great Hall for lunch. Hagrid was one of their own and they knew the Slytherins would do everything in their power to use this to their advantage. The general feeling of gloom got to be too much for Hermione and she excused herself, ignoring the boys' complaints that she hadn't eaten anything.

She wanted to get away to herself for a bit, but there was another class this afternoon and she knew the other girls would be in the dorm until then. She could have kicked herself when she remembered that she wasn't necessarily bound to the same constraints. She quickly made her way up to the tower and ducked into the girls' lavatory right off the dorms. Four hours would put her back just before Care of Magical Creatures and in a blissfully empty dorm room. It might be a slight abuse, but surely they didn't expect her not to catch a little extra down time with all the studying she was going to have to do this year.

She made herself at home atop her bed, coming to rest on her stomach. She knew this sort of thing was not at all like her, but she'd found herself becoming more and more introspective since her parents' had sat her down for The Talk. That's what she was calling it at any rate. Everything about her changed after that moment, which she supposed was only natural.

She'd been furious of course, at first. She felt as though her entire life had been one big lie. But she could never stay mad at her parents. They loved her, she knew this, and had only gone along with what Kathy had wanted. That had been the part that had hurt the most; that the woman who gave birth to her not only hadn't wanted her but also had not even wanted her to know she existed. Mum had tried to point out that the fact Kathryn had made arrangements in the event of her death was proof that the woman wasn't without feelings for her. At the time, however, Hermione had simply been too deep in shock to wrap even her clever brain around the concept.

She flipped onto her back with a sigh, letting a foot dangle off the bed. It hit her book satchel, which brought the equations sheet back to mind. What were they all about anyway? Some kind of test? A bit of nonsense from a slipping mind? Well, the last wasn't likely; they were too clever. Hermione rolled over to dig the paper and parchment back out and spread them open atop her bed to study them.

Three equations, each one more complex that the previous. She'd managed to work through the first two last night, but Diggory had interrupted her before she could get through the third. She pulled out her quill and nibbled the end of it absently as she looked over the paper again, frowning.

She took out another sheet of spare parchment for more room to work. Tongue trapped between her teeth she bent over the task, scratching out incorrect steps and backtracking when needing to. She filled up the scratch parchment and had to flip it over to start on the other side, all the while ignoring the pain that had returned behind her eyes with the exception of occasionally wishing she had some more of Dumbledore's special lemon drops.

She used up all the space on the second side of the parchment and had only gotten maybe halfway through the final equation. She claimed a fresh bit of parchment to carry on, ignoring how her vision seemed to be graying about the edges and how shaky her usually neat handwriting was becoming. She took a breath and willed herself to work through the pain, unable to stop herself.

She filled up the spare parchment on both sides and still had a little more to go. Dimly, somewhere amidst the pain inside her skull, Hermione realized that there was something dreadfully wrong with the equations. It truly was some type of arithmancy, one that was compelling her to continue on even though the awareness that something was wrong was causing a part of her to scream for release. Rather than break to get more parchment, she tugged up the sleeve of her jumper to bare her other arm, ignoring the sound of her blouse ripping from the assault. She continued her scratch work on her own skin, her breathing becoming ragged.

The pain continued to build. She felt as though her head were going to explode. From far off inside her own mind she realized that her breathing was ragged because she was sobbing. She could barely feel the tears trickling down her cheeks. Only one more figure to put down and she would be done. Just one more symbol. Her hand was cramping up, her arm not wanting to move any longer. She took her free hand and gripped her wrist with it, using it to guide her quill to mark down the last figure in a shaky, barely legible mark.

And the world went black.

* * *

Minerva had answered the summons immediately, dragging Filch along with her. Miss Brown and Miss Patil were in near hysterics as it was, and their screeching was only serving to stir up the rest of the students who had returned to the tower for some quiet after lunch.

The stairs to the girls' dorms were collapsed, a sign that boys had tried to go in. Under the circumstances she felt that was something that could be overlooked. One of her little cubs needed her. She restored the steps and hurried up into the third year girls' room.

Minerva skidded to a halt, her breath catching in her throat. Miss Patil had Hermione Granger by the shoulders, shaking her in a vain attempt to rouse the unconscious girl while Miss Brown tried to muffle her own sobs with her hands. Her bedspread was littered with parchment and spilt ink. One sleeve of her blouse was ripped open and dark ink stood out starkly against her pale skin.

"Stand away, Miss Patil!" Minerva pulled out her wand and tried to revive the girl without the slightest bit of success. She put a hand to Hermione's neck and found her cold as ice to the touch, though her heart still beat. Her pulse hammered rapidly as though she were in the midst of some great exertion. "We have to get her to the hospital wing, Argus. Hurry!"

The caretaker bent over and scooped up the girl, too caught up in the urgency of the moment to even get a good scowl on. He hurried from the dorm as Minerva looked at the debris on the bed. There was a piece of muggle-style lined paper with what looked like arithmancy equations written on it and what was clearly scratch work on a couple of sheets of parchment. Not stopping to think she scooped up the lot and followed the caretaker.

She heard the distressed cries of Potter and Weasley before she even reached the Common Room. "Not now, boys!" Scanning the crowd she found Percy Weasley and pointed him out. "Run up and tell Professor Vector he's needed in the hospital wing right away. Sir Nicholas!" The ghost nodded to her in acknowledgement. "I need you to go down to the dungeons and tell Professor Snape that Miss Granger has taken ill and he can find us in the hospital wing."

Her Gryffindors were frantic but there was little time to spare. They had no way of knowing what was wrong with Hermione until Poppy could look at her. She followed Argus though the portrait whole, all the while sending a fervent prayer up to whomever might be listening to please spare the girl.

Albus was already there when they arrived. The Headmaster helped Argus lay Hermione gently onto one of the hospital beds before both men quickly stepped back and let Poppy reach her. Dumbledore moved to Minerva's side, confident in the mediwitch's skills. "What did you find, Minerva?"

The witch handed him the paper and parchment. "Only this, Albus. It looks like arithmancy, but nothing she should be doing this soon. She's only just taken her first class. I sent Percy Weasley to fetch Vector here."

Dumbledore nodded as he frowned over the parchment. "It does appear similar to arithmancy, but not quite. I don't think I've seen this type of work before."

"It's on muggle paper, Albus. Could she have brought it with her?"

"I believe that is the most likely answer."

They looked up as Severus came barreling into the hospital wing. His dark eyes moved to where Hermione lay unmoving on the hospital bed. The usually pale wizard became even paler and moved towards the girl. Albus stopped him with a gentle hand to his shoulder. "Allow Poppy the space she needs, Severus."

"What happened?"

"Miss Brown and Miss Patil found her unconscious in their dormitory. Attempts to wake have so far been unsuccessful." The aged wizard cast a worried look towards the bed. The door opened, allowing Professor Vector and the eldest Weasley boy entry. "Ah, Victor, thank you for coming so quickly. We need your opinion on these papers."

Severus' eyes looked over and saw the two pieces of ink-riddled parchment. Then he saw the sheet of muggle notebook paper and drew in a sharp breath. Albus' head turned to him. "What is it?"

"May I see that, Headmaster?" He held his hand out for the sheet of paper. Dumbledore gave it over and he let his eyes move over the script. He recognized the handwriting almost instantly. "Kathryn wrote this."

"Miss Granger's birth mother?" Severus nodded in confirmation. "Where would she have gotten something like this? I was under the understanding that Ms. St. James was not a witch."

"As was I, Headmaster."

Albus' brow furrowed as he took back the paper and handed it to Professor Vector. "See what you can figure out for us, Victor. Miss Granger's life may very well hang in the balance."

Severus gravitated towards the bed, unable to turn his eyes away from the still, pale girl lying there. What the devil was Kathryn playing at? He had always remembered her as a cold woman, apparently only with him for sexual gratification or perhaps for some purpose he had not yet deciphered, but why would she feel the need to strike out from beyond the grave to attack her own flesh and blood?

_"Be grateful you are already dead, Bitch, or I would do the job myself."_

Fear gripped him. Fear that this bright child he had only so recently found would be taken from him before he even had the chance to know her properly. Slowly he lowered himself onto the hospital bed next to Hermione's, watching and waiting for some change in the girl, no matter how small.


	5. Chapter 5

She was sitting on a childhood merry-go-round. She could feel the textured metal surface under her hands and her back was resting against one of the tall arches designed to help little girls from flying off. The world was a blur about her because the toy was spinning.

"I'm impressed."

Directly across from her was a woman. She had dark hair that had been braided tightly away from her face and bright, yellow-brown eyes. She wore dark jeans tucked into what looked like heavy motor cycle boots and a black shirt that fit her as though it were a size or two too small. She was squatted down on the spinning disk, one hand holding onto an arch for stability as she studied Hermione with open frankness.

"Very impressed, actually. I never would have figured it out that quickly, not going in cold like you did. Then again, math was never my strongest subject. I needed a great deal of tutoring before I was any good at it. You probably got that from Severus. Better than getting his nose."

Hermione frowned, starting at the strange woman. The hair, the eyes, the cut of her chin. "Kathryn?"

The woman smiled and the merry-go-round stopped spinning in an instant. There was no inertia throwing her to the side and she realized it had never been spinning at all. Just an illusion. "Oh, but you _are_ the clever one, aren't you."

Hermione swallowed and looked around. They appeared to be in the play park not far from her parents' home. Why was she here? "I'm dreaming."

"Not exactly. You are unconscious but the conversation is very much real." Kathy stood up from her crouching position and stepped forward until she was standing in the exact center of the merry-go-round. Hermione had to pull her feet back to keep them from being stepped on. "Sorry about the pain. I didn't realize it would hurt that much, but it was a necessary evil."

She frowned. "They told me you weren't a witch."

"I'm not, but neither am I what your… what do they call themselves? Ministry of Magic? At any rate they probably wouldn't have considered me a muggle if they'd understood my true nature."

"Which is?"

The woman grinned down at her and extended a hand. "Walk with me." Hermione looked at the pale, long-fingered appendage before accepting it.

Now they were walking side-by-side in a graveyard. A sharp contrast to the happy scene just before. Hermione looked around and saw head stones but the names were oddly blurred. "Where are we?"

"Inside your head, but if you're wondering what physical location this is supposed to copy; it's a graveyard outside of Dervish. This is where I learned you were on the way." Kathryn frowned. "Oddly sentimental of me. I usually don't give a damn about such things, but I always had a bit of a soft spot when it came to you."

She found out she was pregnant in a graveyard? "I'm confused. What type of magic is this? I mean, if you're not a witch, and if you're dead, how are you here?"

Kathryn stepped over to perch lightly atop a tall headstone, stretching out her legs and crossing them at the ankle. "Tell me, Hermione; are you familiar with the concept of ESP? I believe Severus once called them 'wild talents'. Apparently the Dark Lord was keeping a weathered eye on supposed muggles with unusual abilities and Severus was one of those who was supposed to be gathering information on them."

She nodded. "It happens to wizards, too. Slytherin's ability to talk to snakes. Some are natural shape shifters and others are born with natural telepathy." She paused, frowning. "You were a 'wild talent' then?"

Kathryn gave a smirk that outdid anything Severus had ever pulled off. "That might be putting it a bit mildly. The 'technical' term was Necroscope, but as far as the ones who really mattered were concerned I was simply known as a 'Keogh'. It was my grandfather's surname, the first one to be born with the gift."

"Necroscope? You mean like a necr…" She was cut off by Kathryn raising a hand sharply, an angry light burning in her eyes.

"Finish that thought and you will regret it." Her voice was a cold whisper but it was nothing compared to the whispering voices that hovered in the darkness around them, buzzing like angry bees. Then, just as quickly as the anger came on, Kathryn shook it off. She other whispers quieted down as well. "At any rate, a Necroscope is nothing like a necromancer. The simplest way to explain it is a natural ability to converse with the dead, only they speak to us freely and of their own accord. A necromancer rips his answers from the grave, inflicting pain where pain should no longer be felt and defiling bodies that have earned their rest. _They_ are filth, not even worth living. Never equate what you are with the likes of them."

Hermione frowned. She didn't think she liked how this 'conversation' was going. "What I am? But I never… other than the school ghosts I've never spoken to anyone… dead."

The whispers rustled around them. They sounded almost amused. Kathryn's expression softened slightly. "That was my doing."

"How so?"

The woman sighed, if a dead person really could sigh, and pushed away from her stone perch. "I had not meant to get pregnant, Hermione. At least not by a man like Severus Snape. Oh, I knew I'd have to _one_ day. The gift is genetic so I would have to one day buck up and do my duty to the family, but I had always assumed it would be with a _normal_ person, or another 'wild talent' at the very least. Certainly not by a person who was a force to be reckoned with in his own right and who might pass on his own talents to the offspring."

She looked Hermione over from head to toe. "I'm not a weak person, Kid. The dead don't just talk to me; they tell me their secrets. If it was known by someone who had died, then it was mine for the asking." She tilted her head to one side. "Complete this old saying: Power corrupts and absolute power…"

"Corrupts absolutely." Hermione frowned. "You felt corrupted?"

Kathryn gave a short laugh. "There are quite a few who would answer that with a resounding 'yes'. I usually don't make a good impression on those who still have a pulse. But in this case it was you I was worried about. Imagine being able to know anything. To learn anything. That you are so well loved and well thought of that all you had to do was ask for it and any secret you could possibly want would be given up to you without hesitation. Now, give that privilege to someone who already has an extraordinary ability. Like… oh say… magic for example."

The teasing light faded from her eyes and Kathryn appeared very serious. "It frightened me, knowing you were there. You couldn't have been more than a week along and already the Great Majority sensed your presence. That's what the dead are called, by the way. My grandfather's idea because when you think about everyone who has ever been born, lived and died the dead outnumber the living by a fair few. Once the adrenaline rush had worn off and I was able to wrap my mind around the concept that I was pregnant, I realized that my genes mixed with Severus' might not be the best thing for the world at large. In truth, I was afraid that I was going to give birth to a monster."

An unexpected pain lanced through Hermione. "You… you thought I was going to be a monster. You really never did want me, did you?"

"I never wanted anyone, Hermione. Not really. And I truly was a poor choice for motherhood. By the time you came around I had very little care for the living any longer. I'd lost myself, you see. I'd spent so much time catering to the requests and desires of the dead that I wasn't very personable. Probably the only truly motherly thing I ever did for you was to find you a proper set of parents. Had you stayed with me you likely would have grown up to be a jaded, uncaring little bitch. I don't even want to think about what Severus would have made of you had you been left in his hands. His choice of friends left much to be desired."

Her dream self swallowed. She pushed the feelings of bruised ego and rejection aside. "I suppose I should thank you, then, for not aborting me."

"That was never an option. We're necroscopes, Hermione, and you were already loved and adored by the dead. You think I wanted to spend the rest of my life with them bitching at me because I'd murdered you before you even had the chance to be born? They complained enough about my actions as it was. They didn't agree with you being locked up like that."

Hermione frowned. "Like what? Just what _did_ you do to me?"

Kathryn walked around her in a slow circle. "Think of the mind like a maze of hallways. All along the corridors in the maze are doors that lead to various talents and skills. Scholastic abilities, music, even magic. Some doors are sealed shut, others open just a bit and yet others thrown wide to allow whatever is inside to flow out.

"Now, in most people a shut door remains shut. One that is open a bit might be opened wider if the person applies herself to learn. And an open door usually remains open unless someone else knows how to close it. My father had done it in the past to someone else, so I knew it could be done, and with the right help I learned the equations to make it work. Severus' magic wasn't mine to interfere with so I left that alone. The day you were born, however, I asked for some time to 'say goodbye'. They left you with me long enough that I could reach inside you and shut the 'door' to what you inherited from me, locking it tight."

Comprehension dawned on her. "The equations. They _were_ arithmancy, after a fashion. They were to the… the door."

Kathryn nodded, her smile somewhat sad. "The combination to the locks. I had hoped never to use them, but by the time you got to be around seven or eight, I'd come to the conclusion that I had no interest in going through pregnancy again. Had I lived long enough for you to finish your schooling I would have come to you in person, but I always knew there was a chance I wouldn't make it." She tilted her head to the side. "As luck would have it, death doesn't automatically rule me out as a teacher."

Had she been conscious, Hermione thought she might be ill. "I… I don't think I want this."

"I will admit that I am happy to hear you say that. However, it's a little late now. You've undone the locks, which proves you're clever enough to handle knowledge at any rate. And your parents are good people I was sure would raise you to be a trustworthy person. Still, if there was anyone else to pass this burden to I would have spared you. I'd wager being a witch is tricky enough."

"You've no idea."

"You'd be surprised. You think I've been spending my time among the dead knitting tea cozies? I've been doing my research. I know how those so-called 'purebloods' treat 'mudbloods'." She gave an inelegant snort, clearly less than impressed by the racial inequalities in the magical world. "It's a rude awakening for most of them to learn that they're all equal once their cold and six feet under. Some even learn a bit of humility."

A weak laugh escaped her. The whispering seemed to press in on them. Hermione looked around into the blackness around the 'graveyard'. "What is that?"

"It's them. The Great Majority. They're quite anxious to meet you; though I have asked them to give you time to adjust. They can be a bit much at times."

The voices were cold, but gentle. Hermione hugged herself slightly. "How… how did you get involved with… with him?"

"You mean Severus? Oh, that was one of my more vicious moments, actually. I believe I've already made my opinion of necromancers clear, right?" She nodded. "Well, that racist little pig, Voldemort, had one working for him. I didn't know all the particulars when I first learned of him, of course. I just knew that someone was disturbing the dead, causing them pain and forcing them to commit acts of murder. They couldn't tell me who their tormentor was until he turned his skills onto another wizard. He still couldn't tell me a name, but he did recognize that it was one of his own kind.

"I had no idea that witches and wizards existed until then, but their dead told me everything. I learned of the war and of the 'Death Eaters', how idiotically vain of them to go by that name, and I learned of Voldemort and his madness. I also learned of a wizard among them whose convictions might not be as strong. He was the weak link in the chain. My way to get in and identify the necromancer so I could take the bastard out."

"Professor Snape."

Kathryn nodded. "He had his doubts, mainly because his heart was breaking over a muggleborn witch who had gone to another after he'd let peer pressure push him into being a right utter bastard towards her. He was so wrapped up in his own feelings of self-loathing that the rest of his cronies believed he truly was just as twisted and vile as they. It took a bit of doing, he didn't trust me at first, but after a time he was glad to have a warm and willing body who didn't demand payment up front. I offered him physical release and someone with whom he could talk without demanding a commitment. Once I got in with him I let signs 'slip' to show that I wasn't as ignorant of the magical world as a 'muggle' should be. I knew it was only a matter of time before the others got nervous of having me around and my target would show his hand. Imagine my surprise when he asked for the right to kill me himself. I couldn't have asked for a better set up."

"What… what happened?"

A cold, malicious smile crossed Kathryn's face. "The idiot tried to send the dead against me. Wanted to scare me before he had them tear me apart. You should have seen the look on his face when I pointed out the flaw in his plan."

"Which was?"

Kathy arched a brow. "They liked me better. Haven't you been paying attention?" She gave a shrug. "I turned them back on him and walked away while they exacted their revenge. Right in this very cemetery. Well, the real version of it, anyway. That was also the night I learned about you and the night I walked away from my six month affair with your father. He'd served his purpose in getting me closed to the wizard. I had no further need of him."

Hermione frowned. She didn't think she liked this woman. She seemed cold and cruel. And she didn't think she liked knowing all this. "What… what happens now?"

"Now? Now you wake up and continue your lessons. Learn to be a good little witch, Glenda. Now you let yourself adapt to who you truly are and work to find your own balance. I'll be there to guide you the best that I am able, but it won't be easy. Not by a log shot. But it's something that must be done and I don't know how much time you've got to do it."

"Why? What's the matter?"

Kathy's face pulled into a frown. "Voldemort is the matter. I've been searching for him since my death, and I can't find him. He's not in here, in the grave with us. That means he's still out there among the living somewhere, likely biding his time until he can come back. And that won't bode well for any of us, living or dead."

She knew this of course. They already had knowledge that the Dark Lord was trying to return.

"Oh, and Hermione?"

She looked up to find that Kathy's face had gone cold, her expression empty. "Y.. yes, Ma'am?"

Her 'mother' stepped closer to her, towering over her by a good six inches, though that could easily be a trick of her dreamlike state. "Don't think that just because I'm dead that I'm powerless. I'm still not completely certain that unlocking that door inside your mind was the wisest move, but with no one else to take my place there was little choice in the matter. I'll be watching you, though, keeping an eye out that you don't become the monster I was afraid you might be. And I promise you this; you fall too far into darkness and I'll kill you myself."


	6. Chapter 6

She was burning up, and she thought she might have been buried alive were it not for the fact that her face was still cool. Her head was still hurting but not as badly as it had been before. Cautiously she opened one eye and peered around before daring to open the other.

She was in the hospital wing, and she felt buried alive because Pomfrey had apparently piled every blanket in the castle atop her. Hermione gave a muffled 'oomph' and tried to push them off.

"'Mione!" Ron's face came into view to her left, soon joined by Harry's on her right. They started to pull off the covers quickly. When she was able to get up into a semi-seated position she could see Ginny was also there to lend a hand. "Are you all right? You had us scared to death! Everyone!"

Ginny crawled onto the bed and made her way up to hug the older girl. "From the way Lavender was screeching we thought Black must have somehow gotten into the tower and murdered you."

Hermione returned the hug, grateful to have her friends here. "How… how long was I out?"

"All afternoon. It was scary. Snape was in here, just sitting on that bed and staring until me and Harry came in, then he jumped up and started yelling at us for no reason until Dumbledore made him go into Madam Pomfrey's office with McGonagall and Vector."

_"Huh. Wonder if he was hoping you'd keel over or if he was actually concerned."_

Hermione froze. That voice was just too bloody familiar right now. She must have looked off because Harry frowned. "You need us to get Madam Pomfrey for you, 'Mione?"

_"What part of speak-to-the-dead did you not understand? Now let's work on your acting skills."_

"Uh… no… I just remembered that I missed my classes." She blinked as real panic set in. "I _missed_ my_classes!_"

_"I would be impressed by that if I couldn't clearly see that you really are upset. You _do_ realize there is life outside of books, right?"_

Ron gave a sigh of relief. Apparently he was of the mind that if she could think clearly enough to let that upset her then she must be fine. "Don't worry. I'm sure they'll give you a pass under the circumstances."

"But I'm already behind, and it's only the first week!"

Her raised voice resulted in the door to Madam Pomfrey's office being flung open. She saw something tall and black approaching quickly from the side of her vision. She turned to see Snape hurrying towards her, his eyes strangely lit from within.

_"Well shit-fire-mother-fucking-damn! He's actually worried. I would have lost good money on that bet."_

He truly did seem concerned. Harry scrambled to get out of the way as Severus took a seat on the side of her bed, hand reaching out to brush away a stray lock of her hair. "Your headache?"

"Fading, Sir."

He seemed to weigh her words for truth before nodding. "Your skin is warming again as well. Madam Pomfrey will be bringing you another potion for the residual discomfort."

"Ah, Miss Granger, it's lovely to see you awake once more."

Hermione looked past Severus' shoulder to see Professor Dumbledore approaching them, a relieved looking McGonagall at his side. Madam Pomfrey wasn't as sedate. The mediwitch was never happier than when she was in a state of near-panic and had someone to fuss over. Hermione stifled a groan as she was fed another peppermint-sock potion.

Professor Vector was still standing in the doorway of the office, his head bent over a familiar sheet of paper. She wondered what the wizard could see.

_"Not very much, I would think. It's not magic. Not really at any rate."_

_"But how can you be certain? He's very clever."_

_"Crushing on your teacher?"_

_"What?"_ Something must have shown in her eyes because Dumbledore asked if she were all right. "What? Oh, yes, Sir. Just worried about my lessons."

He didn't look as though he believed her, but let it go. "Miss Granger, perhaps you would be so kind as to tell us what transpired in relation to the… message from your birth mother. As you comprehend it, of course."

She looked around her to find all eyes turned her way. Harry, Ron and Ginny were sitting shoulder to shoulder on the next bed over. Dumbledore and McGonagall were standing near the foot of her bed. Madam Pomfrey had an eagle-like gaze studying her face and Snape… well… he was reminding her a bit too much of her father at the moment.

_"Well he is…"_

_"Shut up!"_

She swallowed. "I… I'm sorry, Headmaster. I probably should have brought the equations to Professor Vector first, but it felt… private."

"What happened, Miss Granger?"

_"Careful, Girl. You must tread slowly here. This world may have necromancers, but they don't care for them. The decent folk don't at any rate. And they likely won't understand the difference between us and them. Take care in how much you reveal."_

She was right, of course. Hermione swallowed. "It… it was a sort of message, Sir. Rather clever. I don't know how she did it since she wasn't a witch… but she left a message for me. They… opened a kind of dream where she was with me. She… she said she just wanted me to know who she was."

She felt Severus' weight shift from the edge of the bed so that he could take seat in a nearby chair. She thought she heard him give a disdainful snort. Apparently he didn't care much for the memory of Kathryn St. James.

_"Well I didn't much care for the memory of him, so we're even. Although it was fun for a while."_

_"Professor Snape was _fun?_"_

_"Haven't you heard the old wives' tale about the size of a man's nose being an indication as to the size of his…"_

_"I do _not_ want to hear anymore!"_

_"Hmmm… well… perhaps you are a bit young for that discussion."_

_"I would say so!"_

"Can you describe her, Miss Granger?"

She swallowed and nodded before struggling to recall Kathryn from the 'dream'. Tall and slender, and not with a lot of curve to her. The tight black shirt and jeans. The heavy boots better suited to a motorbike. And a pretty face even with the somewhat jaded expression. To her surprise her 'mother' didn't voice any objections to the description. Even when Hermione mentioned that she came across as a bit 'butch'.

Severus nodded in confirmation to the Headmaster. That description did match the woman he had known, only it had been the seventies then and her manner of dress had been a bit different. "Did she say anything else?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, Sir. She just said that she wanted me to know who she was and that… that she felt she'd done best by me when she gave me to Mum and Dad."

_"Keeping it close to the truth without blabbing everything. Quite sharp of you, especially with Severus. Watch him. He knows some bit of magic that's a lot like telepathy, only not as invasive. He'll be able to tell a bald faced lie in a heart beat."_

_"He didn't seem to notice first year when I lied about the troll."_

_"I wouldn't bet on that if I were you. Wait… trolls are real?"_

She had to fight not to smirk. Kathy came across as so smug and superior that she was rather happy she could give her pause. She almost missed the part where Vector was talking to Dumbledore. "It's rather brilliant work, actually. I don't think my NEWT level students could have figured this out. Not arithmancy, per se, but definitely higher maths. I know Minerva said she was clever but I never expected…"

"Everyone here knows the girl is a bloody prodigy! Is she in danger of this happening again?" Severus' voice made her cringe. He sounded furious.

Professor Vector collected himself, shrugging off the Potion Master's ire. "I don't believe so, no. Not as long as she avoids any more unapproved equations." The arithmancy teacher leveled a gaze at her. "Were there any other sheets like this one?"

"No, Professor. That was the only one."

"I see. Well then, Miss Granger, you should be all right. However, I think it best that should any other 'messages' arrive in the future you bring them to me first."

She nodded, agreeing completely. _"Please tell me that's the last time this happens."_

_"It is. I only locked the one door. Without the Deadspeak you weren't likely to notice any of the rest, so that was all I had to deal with."_

_"Rest of what?"_

_"We'll cover that later."_

Dumbledore had moved closer and was peering down at her closely. "I rather think that our Miss Granger will be all right, Severus. However, perhaps it would be wise for her to come back and see Poppy in a few days for a check up." He smiled, eyes twinkling. "Now, I believe she is likely quite anxious to get her assignments she missed and catch up."

She sighed with relief. "Thank you, Sir." Snape clearly didn't agree, but she really wanted out of this room before anyone went poking around inside her skull any further. "May I go now, Madam Pomfrey?"

The mediwitch bristled, but Harry, Ron and Ginny swore that they would see their friend back to the tower safely. The boys continued to promise even as Ginny helped Hermione put her shoes back onto her feet and get up from the bed. The escapee gave the professors a slight smile and walked sedately from the hospital wing, not daring to pick up the pace until the doors were shut behind them in case she incur the wrath of Madam Pomfrey.

* * *

Albus looked over at his Potions Master who was still sitting stiffly in the chair. "Give her time, Severus. She will not accept you over night."

Snape swallowed. "I am aware of that, Headmaster."

The aged wizard gave the younger man a gentle smile. "I know this is hard for you. She cannot be the girl you would have raised."

Severus shook his head. "No, she is not. The child I would have raised would have never been so full of life. I would have crushed it out of her long ago."

"I sincerely doubt that."

"I don't!" He shot a glare at Albus. "You know what kind of a person I am! She would never have stood a chance. And she certainly would never have been in Gryffindor! She would have ended up one of Malfoy's sycophants, drooling after him like the Parkinson girl."

Minerva snorted. "Oh, now that is ridiculous!" Her shoulders flexed restlessly under her cloak. "You would have beaten her within an inch of her life at the first sign of drooling."

Severus stared at the witch. Was she trying to be humorous? Well, perhaps not. He would have given her a sound tongue lashing at the very least. No child of his would bow and scrape to someone so clearly beneath her as Draco. That boy had quite a bit more growing up to do, and would eventually need to get out from under his father's shadow before he would actually have any respect for him.

Still, what had he expected? For her to lean over and cling to him? Ask him to kiss it better? Jacob Granger was her father in every way that mattered save for blood. The man had changed her nappies when she had been an infant, had picked her up and soothed the bruises when she'd fallen down and had chased the monsters from underneath her bed in the middle of the night.

The only claim Severus had on her was an ejaculation that had happened over 14 years ago which had resulted in the creation of a beautiful, brilliant young girl who would one day become a beautiful, brilliant young woman. Under muggle laws he had little to no rights whatsoever. He could still pursue it under magical law, but Narcissa's warnings that he'd likely end up with an angry, spiteful teenager on his hands still rang in his ears.

Something inside him sighed. He shouldn't push too hard. Not in this. Perhaps inviting her to join him in his quarters for tea would be a step in the right direction. A civilized custom, tea, and something neutral both might enjoy.


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione had to endure a few days of people fussing over her, forcing her to hide in the library for as much as possible between classes. After a while, however, it did seem to calm down.

Even Snape seemed to recover. He had invited her to join him for tea in h is office and she had accepted. It had been an uncomfortable meeting for the most part, but well mannered. He did agree that she seemed to be holding up rather well now that the incident with Kathryn's 'message' was in the past and, grudgingly, agreed not to pressure Professor McGonagall into taking away her time turner. For now.

She was even becoming used to the cold presence of Kathryn inside her mind, as long as her biological mother kept her thoughts to herself. They managed quite well during classes, and even tolerated one another when Hermione was trying to study. However, the woman did have a tendency to say the most inappropriate things from time to time.

_"Shit-Fire-Mother-Fucking-Damn! Hey, Little Boy. Wanna cookie?"_

The swearing she was getting used to, but the rest? It didn't help matters that she had been standing up to scold Oliver Wood for dragging Harry away to practice when he should have been doing his homework. Kathy's outburst made whatever she was going to say freeze in her throat. The tall boy gave her one of his telltale smirks, knowing he would win the argument as always. "Something you wanted to say, Granger?"

_"Oh, bloody hell. He's a Scot, too. We never had anything that scrumptious when I was in school."_

Her mother, her _dead_ mother, was perving over Oliver Wood. This was just too surreal to be believed. She fell back into her seat while giving some non-committal sound to Wood as he hauled Harry off to practice. _"What are you doing?"_

_"At the moment, thinking that hanging around in the body of a fourteen-year-old girl might have its benefits. Although I am a bit concerned at your lack of interest. You are supposed to be at the age where you giggle and blush anytime something that looks _that_ good flashes so much as a dimple your way. Jacob must be tickled pink by your complete and utter obliviousness to the male gender."_

Hermione crouched down in the sofa more out of reflex than anything else. No one else could hear the conversation inside her head. Thank goodness!_"I think that boys are just fine. I just have more important things on my mind at the moment."_

_"More important than picturing him in a kilt and shirtless?"_

As if on cue just such an image flashed into her mind. She nearly dropped her book out of surprise. The cold snigger inside her mind gave her a good idea of where that had come from. _"I think I liked it better when you were silent and cranky."_

_"Quit your complaining. There's no harm in looking. Besides, you need to hurry up and finish your essay. We've got training to do."_

_"What kind of training?"_

_"The physical kind. You need to get into shape. I've been asking around and the previous headmaster told me there's apparently a magic room that changes with the needs of the person seeking it. He called it the Room of Requirement. I think it will suit our purposes nicely."_

A magic room that changed to suit the needs of the person seeking it? That sounded interesting. Hermione doubled her efforts and completed her assignments as quickly as she was able. Once through she deposited her books and parchments next to her bed and changed into a simple pair of jeans and t-shirt at Kathy's insistence.

_"Now, Hermione, it's time you tried speaking to someone besides me. Say 'hello' to Armando Dippet."_

She knew the name of course. He'd been listed in 'Hogwarts: A History' as Professor Dumbledore's immediate predecessor. Still, she wasn't certain about this. _"Hello, Sir."_

A cool but sprightly voice answered her with obvious curiosity. _"Hello, Miss Granger! It is so very good to be able to speak with you at last!"_

She swallowed. _"At last, Sir?" _She still had not been able to figure out if the chill she felt whenever she spoke to Kathy, and now when she was speaking to Dippet, was real or imaginary. It wasn't altogether unpleasant, just odd.

_"Indeed 'at last'. We've all been buzzing about you, Dear Girl. It is an honor to know that you have come to my fine school. Of course, I knew that you would."_

His happiness felt genuine. Hermione wasn't aware that she had slowed down in mid-stride as she tried to wrap her mind around it. _"An honor? It… it is?"_

_"Well of _course_ it is! There haven't been many of your kind born so far, less than half a dozen, and you are the only true witch in the bloodline. If I may say so, it seems far more sensible to have your gifts in a witch than a muggle. In our world you will be better protected, surrounded by others who have the power to assist you, whereas in the muggle world you would practically be alone!"_

Kathryn's voice interrupted. _"I was in the muggle world, and I managed just fine. And you forget, we are _never_ alone."_

_"True, true. At any rate, I believe you were wanting use of the Room of Requirement, correct?"_ The former headmaster's voice guided her through the halls until she reached the seventh floor. _"Now, pace before this spot three times, thinking of what it is you need."_

Hermione was at a bit of a loss. _"What do I need, exactly?"_ It was Kathryn's voice that answered her.

_"A place where you can do your physical training. A private gymnasium of sorts."_

She really wasn't looking forward to this. Still, Hermione did as she was told, walking back and forth three times, concentrating on what the required. A door appeared in the wall and she stopped to study it. Her hand reached out to take hold of the iron handle as she drew a deep breath. Resolved she pulled open the door and stepped inside.

The room was lined with mirrors and a barre. The main floor housed various pieces of fitness equipment that gave the look of a place designed for a combination of acrobatics and serious boxing. It looked nothing at all like the trendy sort of cub her mother frequented. This wasn't a place to socialize while seeking the perfect figure. This was a place for serious commitment to the physical form.

_"It'll do. Now we need to teach you how to step back from yourself so you can learn more efficiently."_

_"Step back from myself?"_

She could sense Kathryn's 'nod' _"You have the ability to allow the dead to have control of your body. It comes in handy if you're in a pinch and need to be able to do something you don't know how to do. You can invite someone who has the knowledge or skill to move into the driver's seat and do it for you. Once departed, you retain the knowledge for yourself."_

Hermione frowned. _"I don't think I like that idea. What if whomever it is refuses to leave?"_

_"They cannot keep you, Hermione. It's not their body, so even if they were able to suppress your mind, which I doubt they could, your body and brain would chuck them out. If the rest of the Great Majority didn't yank them out first. You are far more protected than you realize."_

_"Oh."_ She looked around the room, her hands twisting unconsciously behind her back. _"So, whom am I supposed to be letting in?"_

_"Just me at this point. I'll have to get you into basic physical shape first. After that we'll connect with 'specialists' who will give you some more in depth skills."_

_"All right. How do we begin?"_

_"It's easy. Close your eyes and relax. Imagine your hold on your body is a lot like your hands holding onto the reigns of a horse's bridle, then just let go of the reigns." _

Hermione tried to will herself to relax. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, suddenly very acutely conscious of her own mind and self. After a couple of tries she pictured herself as a miniature Hermione Granger standing inside her skull, and then pictured that Hermione taking a couple of steps backwards. A curiously chilled tingle suffused her body. It felt as though there was something cold and squishy wriggling itself inside her head, filling up the 'space' she'd left by 'stepping back'.

Her eyes opened, but she didn't recall telling them to do so. Hermione watched out of her own eyes as her body walked towards one of the mirrored wall. As she got closer she was surprised to look back at herself. Her chocolate brown eyes were now a yellow-brown in color and seemed very bright. She watched as her body turned one way, then the other, her eyes moving up and down to study the shape of her form and even lifting up her t-shirt at one point to poke at the slight pot-belly she had gained from eating too well over the holidays.

"Quite a bit to be done, I think." It was her voice, but not her words. Her body stopped turning as her hands moved up to start braiding her mass of hair. Hermione's face smiled at her, giving a little wink as her fingers wove the busy mass into something that would stay out of the way. "Let's get started, shall we?"

* * *

When Severus did leave the castle to venture into Hogsmede, it was always when the students were not there. It allowed him some peace and time to be alone with his thoughts without the danger of some young Slytherin knocking at his door to ask a question or report a problem.

The bookseller in the village wasn't as large or as well stocked as Flourish and Blotts, but they did often get rare tomes no longer in print and could order just about anything he might have need of. He was looking over a newly rebound volume covering the identification and use of night blooming magical plants when the cultured voice of Lucius Malfoy broke into his reverie.

"Escaping the insanity of teaching, Severus?"

"It was either that or lose my temper and murder a student." He closed the book and turned to face the wizard. "What brings you to Hogsmede?"

"I had some business with the apothecary and thought I would see what I could learn about the rumors from the school. They're saying that the Dementors attacked the Potter boy during the game last week."

"Attack may be a harsh word, but they did make their presence known. He lost consciousness and fell from his broom, but the Headmaster saved him."

"How fortunate." The words dripped like venom from Lucius' lips. He picked up a random book and looked it over. "And how is your lovely daughter? I hope she is adjusting to the recent changes in her life. Draco said there was a rumor she had taken ill."

"The stress of the summer months laid her out with a migraine for a short time, but she has recovered and is back to her incessant studying." A smirk touched the corner of his mouth. "So she is back to normal."

Lucius gave a short chuff. "Draco did describe her as a walking encyclopedia. He also told me that he tried to extend a friendly hand to her at start of term and she rebuffed him. Trouble there?"

No trouble other than his daughter was smart enough not to fall for his vain little peacock of a son. "Bear in mind, Lucius, that up until now Draco has not been on the best of terms with Hermione. He even called her a mudblood last year, while in the presence of the Gryffindor quidditch team. I am told that they didn't take it very well."

A disgruntled look passed over Malfoy's regal features. No doubt he was second-guessing how he raised the boy. "You can hardly blame Draco, Severus. After all, until the little revelation at the Ministry no one had any cause to think the girl was anything but a muggleborn."

"True, but that doesn't mean that all will be forgiven in an instant. The girl still holds me at arm's length and we have a blood connection. I doubt that she'll forgive your son before she fully comes to accept me as her father."

"So still having trouble in that area?"

Snape gave a disgruntled snarl. "Unfortunately. Like your son I have two years of cruel words and disdainful attitudes to make up for. And the girl in question is unerringly stubborn."

Lucius smirked. "In other words she is the consummate Gryffindor. My deepest sympathies. I do wish you luck in correcting her thinking."

Severus didn't respond to that. He paid for the book and tucked it under his arm. "I was heading over to the pub for a pint. Care to join me?"

"I believe I can linger a bit longer without Cissy hexing me when I return home." The pair of them left the booksellers and made their way to the Three Broomsticks. Madame Rosmerta fetched a pair of mugs topped with her finest goblin brewed ale and brought it to their table in the corner. Once she had departed, Lucius started in.

"I visited our family vault in Gringotts the other day and found something rather surprising."

Damn. "Did you?"

"I did. I take it that Kathryn is to thank for the new vault."

Severus swallowed a mouthful of the stout and nodded. "Apparently she had made quite a fortune for herself in the muggle entertainment industry. Hermione inherited half of everything she had."

"Only half?"

"The other half was divided up between her staff. I was shocked by the amount as well. I had never considered her to be particularly creative artistically. Her skills usually ran to the more… carnal talents."

A pale brow arched. "Is that why you kept her around so long? I thought she must have had something to recommend her."

"I was young and had a young man's desires. A warm body with a decent amount of skill was all I needed."

"Yes, well, we were all a bit foolish back then." The blond wizard turned his mug idly. "An heiress, then. Your daughter just continues to bring fresh surprises into the mix. That bit of news will be of interest to several. I would watch Zabini if I were you. The family fortunes have taken a turn for the worse and it won't be hard for them to recall that their most powerful weapon in reversing them is that young son of theirs. I've met the boy and he is exceedingly charming as well as advanced beyond his age."

"How so?"

Malfoy smirked. "He's already capable of seducing witches far older than himself. I caught him hiking up the skirts of Nadia Parkinson in our greenhouse during a get together this summer."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Takes after his grandfather, does he? That man likely fathered a quarter of our generation in Slytherin house." Yes, the Zabini men were a particularly lustful lot; never able to keep their trousers fastened once they started moving into puberty. Age rarely mattered as long as the witch was comely and willing, and they were highly skilled at making even the most frigid female willing. "I have always thought that it would be wise to slip a bit of impotence potion into the school food. It would certainly make nightly patrols easier."

Lucius gave a snort, but it was one of amusement. "Fortunately I have a son rather than a daughter."

Severus arched a brow. "That doesn't always matter to a Zabini." The other wizard suddenly looked slightly ill. "At any rate, I don't plan on advertising Hermione's financial situation. I have the honor of being father to the cleverest witch of the age and would rather she keep that title. Dodging unwanted advances would likely cut in to her study time which would not be beneficial to her grades."

"Going to turn into the overprotective sort?"

"Wouldn't you?"

Malfoy nodded. "I would. Strange, isn't it, how daughters bring that out in a man. We expect our sons to stand on their own two feet, but give us a little girl to care for and we turn into fearsome brutes threatening to decapitate anyone who dares to lay a hand on her. I doubt I would ever have the strength to survive it."

Severus smirked and signaled for two more pints. "Fortunately I have always been the stronger wizard." His smirk turned into a full on smile as Lucius scowled.


	8. Chapter 8

Severus hovered near the Gryffindors, a clearly disdainful look running from Hermione to her two 'friends'. Idiot boys! Didn't they understand that she did this out of her affection for Potter? Had they already forgotten that Black had managed to infiltrate the school, nearly killing Mr. Weasley in the process?

He knew that it was tearing at his daughter's heart, this falling out. But she had done the right thing. Black could have very well sent that Firebolt to Potter, which means it could have all manner of hexes and curses on it. She was only doing her part to protect him. He should be grateful that such a clever and self-sacrificing girl gave him the time of day!

Unfortunately Minerva would never allow him to give the brats detention simply for being thickheaded and lacking in any emotional maturity. They were only boys and thus were expected to behave in such a manner.

Still, it was frustrating to see Hermione's downcast expression. At least she seemed to appreciate the Christmas present he had sent her. He had requested the new quill and ink set created custom for her complete with a hand-tooled, green leather traveling case embossed with her name in silver on the front. He noted that she brought it with her, tucked securely atop her books in her satchel so she would have it handy when needed. She had given him two volumes from a set of books called 'Practical Applications in Chemistry', a study on the muggle equivalent of potions. He'd skimmed through them partially already and was looking forward to a more in depth study.

* * *

Hermione couldn't wait to get out of potions and away from Harry and Ron. Honestly! It wasn't as though she didn't have enough to worry about as it was. Her abundance of classes was proving a trial, and the extra 'lessons' she was getting from Kathryn weren't helping matters. She only just now was able to move with some degree of comfort. The morning after her first 'lesson' had been hell. Even her hair had seemed sore and stiff.

_"Stop being such a whiner. It's not my fault you're out of shape."_

She was getting better at simply ignoring Kathryn when she didn't particularly wish to listen to her. But she had been rather weak when they had started the physical training. Muscle fatigue had been expected those first few weeks, but Kathryn continued to drag her up to the Room of Requirement at least every other day. She was wasting away to nothing; none of her clothes fit her properly any longer.

_"That's because we've gotten rid of all that baby fat."_

_"I was _**_not_**_ fat!"_ She almost bungled cutting up her caterpillars but salvaged them in the end. She was fuming internally at the suggestion that she might be anything other than normal sized. She could feel Kathryn's smirk as she bent back over her potion assignment.

Finally the class was over and she had produced another perfect potion. Not that Snape would give her credit for it, even though all of Slytherin house knew of their connection. He could not give points to Gryffindor out of principal, but he refused to take any from her. It was the closest thing to a truce the Gryffindors could hope for.

Her stomach was clamoring for something to eat. Preferably something chocked full of protein and red meat.

_"How about a double cheeseburger from McDonalds?"_

_"Sounds wonderful, but there isn't a McDonalds at Hogwarts."_

_"Then we go where there is one."_

Hermione gave a mental snort. _"And how do you propose we do that?"_

_"Easy. Time for a new type of lesson. Let's drop off your books and put on some civvies. You're going to need to blend in."_

Curiosity peaked and no more classes for the day, Hermione stashed her books inside her room and changed into her jeans and t-shirt. Kathryn suggested that she pull on her coat as well since it was still freezing outside. _"Where are we going?"_

_"London."_

Hermione came down the steps into the Common Room. Harry and Ron were sitting near the hearth. Ron looked up out of reflex as she came down, but his jaw quickly set into its usual stubborn pattern before he turned away. A pain shot through her chest as she choked back a sob.

_"They're boys, Hermione. They're always a bit thick, and I hate to tell you but they only get worse as they get older. Now get moving. We need to get outside and someplace out of view."_

She made her way through the castle and through the main doors. The snow was thick and there were few students willing to venture out into the bitter cold if they didn't have to. Hermione was certain that she could find a place away from prying eyes, though she still didn't understand why they needed to come out here rather than use the Room of Requirement.

_"The fresh air will do you good. This place looks promising. Now, step back and let me drive."_

Hermione forced herself to relinquish control to Kathryn. She didn't like this part but was still fascinated when she saw her hands move independent of her own thoughts. "Now," came her voice with Kathy's words, "time for Continuum Navigation, 101."

Her body crouched down in front of an unblemished patch of snow and a hand reached out to start scratching out equations with a single finger. _"I'm not supposed to use any maths outside of class assignments without Professor Vector's close supervision."_

"Clever as he is, Vector wouldn't know what to do with these. He doesn't have the mental scope for them." Kathryn continued to write the numbers and symbols down. "You'll learn to do all this mentally, of course. You'll rarely have time to actually write them down. With your grasp of numbers I see little problem with that."

_"What are these for? Is it going to hurt like last time?"_

"Shouldn't hurt a bit, though this will be a bit disconcerting at first." Kathryn finished etching the last line of numbers. Instantly something resembling a glowing doorway lit up to her right.

_"What's that?"_

"That is a portal into the Continuum; a sort of highway through space and time. Only those with the ability to open and navigate the Continuum can see it. Brace yourself and try not to think too loudly. Even thought has weight in there."

Before Hermione could ask what she meant by that, Kathryn took their body through the doorway and into a seemingly endless void that was light and dark all at once. _"Bloody Hell."_

_"That does seem to be the usual consensus."_

_"But… what is this place?"_

_"This is the Continuum, the link between all points in space and time as well as where the threads of life run. That's what all those lines are, including the ones coming out of us." _Her body tilted her head down and Hermione could see two strands of light running through her. One was a brilliant golden-white, the other was quite pale and barely there. _"Yours is the bold one, since you are still a living, breathing person. I'm the other."_

_"So what is the purpose of coming here?"_

They started moving forward through the vast nothingness as though flying. _"By use of the Continuum you can teleport almost instantly between physical locations."_

_"But you can't teleport from inside the Hogwarts grounds!"_

Kathryn's 'voice' chuckled. _"You can't_apparate_ from inside the Hogwarts grounds. That's magic; this isn't. This is using a 'wild talent' and combining it with mathematics. It's not magic but another classification of ESP."_

_"I don't think that the term ESP is supposed to be so broadly applied."_

_"I don't think so, either, but that is the only classification we've been able to find for it. Now it will take some time for you to get used to coming and going in here, so I'll be helping you a long until you've got it mastered. You open the 'doors' with the equations, which will vary as you need them. Getting in is the hard part, getting out is easy as long as you can figure out where you're going."_

_"And how will we know which 'door' to take for us to get to London?"_

Kathryn slowed them down as they got to a certain point. _"The easiest way is to feel for the right person's thread and follow it along. I know it's confusing now, but you'll get the hang of it soon enough. After figuring out the combination to your own mind, navigating through here should be a snap."_

Hermione 'saw' a new set of equations running through her mind. Another combination for another door. Just as she had expected, a portal opened up and her body went through, leaving the strange nothingness and stepping into a darkened hallway.

The air was thick with pungent incense and the décor was Asian in theme. Kathryn turned her head this way and that before moving towards one end of the hallway with soundless steps. As they drew near to the end she heard voices speaking in Chinese. More to her shock, she understood them.

_"But I don't know Chinese."_

_"I do, and so will you after this. Handy language to know considering about a fifth of the world's population is in China."_ Kathryn usually didn't bother using her Deadspeak with Hermione when she was the one driving, meaning she didn't want to be overheard by whoever was at the end of the hallway.

They moved to be flush with the wall and peered cautiously from the shadows into the main room of what looked like a Chinese apothecary. The shopkeeper was just bidding farewell and wishing his patron good fortune. Kathy waited for the shop to be empty before speaking in what sounded to be flawless Chinese.

"All this time and you still haven't managed to hire a competent assistant, Mao? No wonder you've never had time to find a wife."

The man spun about, eyes going to the doorway as they stepped into the light. "Who are you? How did you get in?"

She could feel her lips turn up into a smile. "The same way I've always gotten in, Little Brother. You'd never recognize me if I started using the door like normal people." She stopped, setting her hands onto Hermione's hips and cocking her head to one side. "I told you that dying didn't necessarily mean out of action."

The handsome man blinked, jaw going slack before he dared to speak. "Tigress?" Hermione felt herself nod in confirmation and Mao immediately dashed to the door of his shop. He locked it tight, flipped the sign to 'closed' and pulled the blinds. That done, he finally turned back around. "How?"

Kathryn indicated her body. "This is my daughter, Hermione. I'm just doing the steering while I help her get more comfortable with herself."

Mao looked suspicious but it soon faded. "Is that wise, Kathryn? Your time has passed. You should not cling to the warmth of life when it has left you."

Hermione felt Kathy's temper flare. "I know what I'm doing!" Her voice snapped like old leather, but just as quickly her ire faded. "I wanted to get some of the things I left here. They're hers now."

Mao nodded and motioned for them to follow. Hermione watched as Kathy moved behind the small man to a door in the back of the shop. He opened it up and motioned for them to go first. Her feet moved quickly down the narrow steps to a basement room light by dim lamps. Mao closed the door behind them before descending the steps as well. "I have kept them safe, just as you asked."

"I knew you would. You're the only one I would trust not to sell them out from under me."

"Only a fool would have tried to do that." Mao moved over to a large, ornate chest and began to open it. Hermione watched through her own eyes as it was expanded to reveal several velvet lined shelves, each holding a variety of martial weapons.

_"What the bloody hell do I need _those_ for?"_

_"Because you and your friends are very likely hurtling towards a war and someone has to be able to put up a decent fight."_ Kathryn moved forward and looked over her weapons, one hand hovering almost reverently above them. "They look well cared for, Little Brother. Thank you for not just leaving them here to tarnish."

Mao gave her a bow. "I owe you too much not to respect your memory, Tigress. My family would be gone from this earth had you not stepped in to save us."

"Losing your family would have been a blow to the entire world, even if few appreciate you." She closed the shelf that held the longer swords.

"Something wrong with them?"

"No, it's just that Hermione is still at school. She wouldn't have any place to hide the larger blades."

_"We're taking some of them back with us?"_

_"Just a few choice items."_ Kathryn removed two pair of sai, one silver and gleaming the other onyx and matte. She also took a couple pairs of kama, the criteria of which matched the sai. There were also a few shorter blades but nothing longer than a foot. Nothing that couldn't be easily hidden. She secured them in a clever soft-sided carrying case the Mao handed to her. "We'll also need to get into the strong box."

"I have it right here." He pulled a metal box from behind the cabinet and set it on top. Taking a large key ring with many keys of all sizes and shapes, he found the one that opened the box and lifted the lid.

_"Just how much money do you have stashed around!"_

_"This is the emergency fund. Besides, we can't use galleons in London."_ Kathy took out several bills totaling close to fifteen hundred pounds before shutting the lid. "Keep it here in case she needs to get into it again, will you, Little Brother?"

Mao smiled. "I will." A mischievous grin lit up his eyes. "Will she also need your tat?"

_"Your what?"_

Kathryn smiled with her face. "You still have the sketch?"

Mao grinned brighter and took out a piece of paper that was stuck to the back of the cabinet. He unfolded it and showed a drawing done in black ink. It was of a bony, skeletal forearm holding a scythe. The entire thing was drawn to look as though it were made of the blackest shadows and enclosed in a perfect oval. "You got it right here, on the small of your back, right?"

The shock of the moment was enough that Hermione shoved Kathryn out of the 'driver's seat' and put in her opinion. "No **way!** Not now, not ever, you are **not** tattooing me!"

To her chagrin Mao started laughing, long and hard. In her mind Kathryn was also cackling in good humor. _"Come on. I believe you wanted a cheeseburger for dinner."_


	9. Chapter 9

The Slytherins were keeping a close eye on Hermione Snape. They refused to refer to her as 'Granger' amongst themselves seeing how she was the daughter of their Head of House. They watched her in class and during meals at in the Great Hall. She couldn't spend any time in the library without at least two or three of them sitting at a table within clear view of her. And it was becoming harder and harder to sneak away to use the Room of Requirement.

It was really starting to get on her nerves. At least they couldn't mingle with the Gryffindors during the game.

She'd made peace with Harry and Ron once the Firebolt had been given an 'all's clear'. And Ron had finally started talking to her after Scabbers' disappearance, though not as kindly as before. All was right with the world once more. Well, as much as her world could ever be all right. But right now was Quidditch and she could at least pretend to be a normal young witch as she cheered and shouted with the rest of her classmates.

Kathryn had been shocked the first game she'd seen. Her disbelief that anyone would allow children to play such a dangerous 'sport' had only been surpassed by her reaction to the Dementors when they had shown up. The best way to explain it was that Kathy had snarled as much as an incorporeal entity could. She had despised the Dementors on sight and her feelings had not lessened over time. Only Kathy didn't call them Dementors; she preferred the term 'Abominations'.

But there were no Dementors today. Dumbledore had been furious with them after the first game and had banished them to the gates. It was just the players and Harry zipping by so quickly he could have been made of lightening. For a happy hour she could forget everything else. Her heavy class load, the Dementors, Sirius Black and her increasingly unsettling birthright were all pushed from her mind as she celebrated Harry catching the snitch with the rest of her house.

They had won the Quidditch Cup! Against all odds they had won! Oliver Wood looked as though he might cry from joy. Kathryn suggested that she go up and give him a good sound kiss. _"I most certainly will _**_not_**_!"_

_"Prude."_

The twins managed to smuggle in sweets and butterbeers and for once she didn't care how they were managing it. At the moment she was thinking that every house needed its very own set of identical rule breakers. They did keep the place lively.

_"Come on, while everyone's distracted."_

_"What? Now? But… but we're celebrating!"_

_"And Severus' troglodytes are down in their dungeon moping. We had to skip practice yesterday because of them and if I wait much longer you'll hide behind your books. Let's go."_

Hermione sighed and trudged up the steps to the girls' dorms, indulging in a juvenile pout the entire way. She grumbled as she shucked out of her school clothes and pulled on the new workout garb they'd picked up while in London, sliding a pair of new jeans over the black, skin-tight leggings and pulling a crimson sweater over the confining sports bra. Dressed, she opened her trunk and reached in to retrieve one of the sets of sai, secured in a soft-sided case that could pass for a typical higher quality book cover. No one would ever think twice about Hermione Granger carrying a book around.

She slipped out of the Common Room without being seen and started her way towards the seventh floor. As she passed she heard the portraits chatting excitedly about Gryffindor winning the cup. Even the portraits usually aligned with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were happy that they'd beat out Slytherin for it. She was ecstatic, of course, but she had other worries on her mind; like finals.

_"Why? You already have all the books memorized."_

_"I always worry about tests. What if I fail everything?"_

_"Not bloody likely. You are one of the most conscientious students I've ever met. Must have gotten that from Severus. Lord knows I was never great at school."_

Hermione frowned. _"But Mum says you were top of your class. And Forensic Medicine isn't easy."_

She sensed Kathy's 'snort'. _"But I cheated, didn't I? If there was something I needed to know, I just plugged into someone who already knew it while they were alive. In case you've missed it, there's no end of people willing to teach you."_

She had noticed it. Now that she could speak with them, people long gone seemed eager and willing to talk to her. Former students and headmasters. Witches and wizards in the cemetery at Hogsmede. Even people buried elsewhere that Kathy helped guide to her. All seemed to want to know her better and offered up their knowledge and experiences.

_"I will admit, however, that I rather like the fact that you're willing to do all the work yourself. I believe it's keeping you balanced though I am glad you dropped Divination. That was a waste of your time, especially with that nutty broad. Still, I had some doubts about that Time Turner thing."_

_"Now you sound like Severus."_

_"Heaven forbid that I ever agreed with anything _that_ git said."_ Kathryn's humor was dry. _"Your grandfather could do that, by the way."_

_"Do what?"_

_"Dart back and forth between time. I told you the Continuum connected all points in space and time, didn't I? Harry Keogh, Jr. found the equations to open the time doors as well as the spatial ones. I never could grasp that part, myself."_

Hermione's footsteps slowed as she tried to digest this bit of news. _"My grandfather was a… time traveler?"_

_"A proficient one as well. That's how I came about when I did. Technically he hadn't even been born yet when I was conceived. It was a future Harry who fell for and had an affair with my mother."_

_"But… that's wrong! He could have seriously damaged the time line!"_

She felt Kathy's sigh. _"And he knew it in the end, but there was little to be done by that time. Circumstances had changed. _**_He_**_ had changed, and not for the better. He found out about me the day he met my mother to break it off with her. She cried, begged him not to leave her, but he had no choice. He was… infected."_

Hermione stopped and leaned against the wall, her head spinning. _"Infected? With what?"_

_"He… know this, Hermione; there are different types of vampires. There are the ones that the Ministry knows about and regulates, and then there is another breed, one that is far more contagious and vastly more dangerous. Luckily they've been eradicated on our world, but there are other worlds. My father lived in one, had gone there to hide from his own father's enemies when he was just a baby. It was the source world for the other breed of vampires and somehow he'd let his guard down long enough to be infected by one. He knew he couldn't stay with my mother after that; couldn't take her with him as he had planned. Instead, he took his leave of her and of me."_

Hermione felt a stab of sympathy for Kathryn, wondering if this might not explain the usually cold and unfeeling demeanor the woman presented, but the second voice in her mind waved it off. _"I survived. I was never alone, though they never took to me fully. They like me, of course, but they liked my grandfather more. Liked him more than my father as well. The Great Majority says we lacked the original Harry Keogh's 'warmth'. They say you've got it, though. They're really taking to you."_

She wasn't certain what to think about that. Dead people liked her. Joy. Now if only she could get _living_ people as interested.

"Hermione?"

She looked over to see the darkly handsome face of one of the Slytherins. Wrong 'people'.

Blaise Zabini, the dungeon dweller who usually kept to himself and never volunteered answers in class even though she knew that he was never more than a few points behind her. He usually just sat back in his seat during class with a knowledgeable little smirk that made even young Ravenclaws, who really should know better, giggle and swoon.

_"I smell trouble."_

She had a strange feeling that Kathy was spot on. "Zabini." She pushed away from the wall, watching the boy as he approached. Zabini never carried himself like a thirteen-year-old. He was one of those who carried himself as someone far older and more knowledgeable of the world. The rumors were that he _was_ more knowledgeable and that more than a few sixth and seventh years had already learned of his 'knowledge' first hand.

He ran a hand through his inky black hair, that little smirk of his touching his lips as he focused a pair of dark blue eyes on her. His gaze moved over her from head to toe and it somehow made her feel utterly naked. She suppressed a shiver with great effort and met his gaze dead on. "Want something, Zabini?"

_"I've really got to get you up to speed on what not to say to predators."_

Apparently she had a point because Hermione's innocent question brought a slow, wicked smile to the boy's lips. He drew closer with a slow pace until he was near enough to reach out and place a hand on the wall to her right. "Just wandering the halls and wondering what my favorite Gryffindor was up to."

She arched a brow. "Your 'favorite' Gryffindor? Just last year your entire house was hoping I'd remained petrified for eternity, now I'm your favorite?"

"I never wished that, Hermione. You shouldn't judge all Slytherins by Draco Malfoy. Most of us are quite decent." He leaned forward a bit, his voice dropping to a soft pitch that was almost a purr. "I was wondering if I could tempt you to take a walk with me. A stroll by the lake."

She leaned back from him, trying to ignore how his voice seemed to brush against her skin, and felt the cold stones of the wall against her back. "I'm busy, Zabini."

"Blaise," he corrected gently, "and busy doing what? Holding up the wall? I'm fairly certain that Hogwarts can stand on its own." He reached out with his hand other hand and traced a finger over her wrist lightly. "It's just a walk, Hermione. Nothing your fellow lions can crucify you over. What's the harm?"

There was all sorts of harm in it, especially with this snake. She felt the heat coming off of him as he started to lean in closer. Her muscles tensed as she prepared to flee when a voice broke through. "Granger! There you are!"

Zabini's head whipped around, eyes narrowing as Cedric Diggory came into view. The Hufflepuff prefect ran a glance over Blaise before smiling to her. "Sorry I'm late. Had to break up a near duel on the third floor." He gave Zabini a curt nod.

Late? What was he talking about?

_"Who the fuck cares? The boy's giving you an out! Take it!"_

"Oh, that's all right. I was just using the time to think."

Zabini, however, didn't think it was all right. "I was just in the process of inviting Hermione for a walk, Diggory."

Cedric arched a brow. "Sorry, but she promised to get me into the Gryffindor Common Room so I could congratulate Wood on his win. Only time I really have to do it, and I believe my standing appointment takes precedence." He gave a polite smile and reached out to Hermione. She didn't need any coaxing from Kathryn to slip her hand into his. It was almost like an instant strengthening potion, giving her what she needed to step away from Zabini.

"We should go now, while they're all still in a good mood and won't care who gets in." With a brief smile to Zabini she walked away with Diggory. She was quite proud of herself for holding it together until they were well out of sight and earshot. Only then did she let herself start to shake.

Cedric stopped, letting go of her hand so he could place his on her shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Hermione let out a sigh and leaned forward to rest her head on his arm. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

Diggory's supportive hand turned into a gentle one-armed hug that lasted only a short time. "I thought you might need a hand out of that. You shouldn't let yourself be cornered by Zabini. He's trouble."

"Yeah, I get that part." Her voice was a little muffled, swallowed by Diggory's robes. She took another breath and lifted her head to look up at him. "Did I remember to say 'thank you'? You seem to be saving me from the snakes quite often."

"Only twice this year, but that's because the rest of your house is looking out for you. I'm just picking up the slack."

She frowned. "Why?"

Cedric gave a shrug. "You're a good person, Granger, in spite of being Professor Snape's daughter. It'd be a shame to see that change." He gave a bit of crooked smile. "Besides, no girl should have to put up with Zabini. He's ruthless. Already has a trail of shattered hearts piling up behind him."

"So I've heard." She realized that she was perhaps a bit too close to Diggory and stepped back, blushing a bit. "So… up to the tower?"

"We can, but that was mainly just the first thing I could come up with to get you away from Blaise. Where were you headed?"

"Oh, I was just going to… work out."

Cedric frowned. "Work out? I thought only the Quidditch teams did that."

She gave a shrug. "I try to at least three times a week. It's been hard to dodge the Slytherins of late. They're everywhere."

"Yeah, your new status does seem to have flushed them out of the dungeons. Hopefully, if you stick to being a Gryffindor, they'll get bored and head back down."

"Hopefully."

Diggory gave her a slight smile. "Come on. I'll walk with you to keep them at bay." She gave him a grateful smile and nodded acceptance. Together they walked up to the seventh floor to the blank expanse of wall. Cedric looked politely confused. "You work out in the hallway?"

Hermione grinned. "Not quite. Can you keep a secret?" He nodded. "Stand right there and wait." She started concentrating on the room she needed and paced back and forth in front of the wall three times until the door materialized. Smiling, she tugged the door open and gave an exaggerated curtsey, inviting Cedric to go in.

He stepped over the threshold and looked around in surprise. "I didn't know this was here."

"It isn't always." She shut the door behind them. "It's called the Room of Requirement. It only appears when you have need of it and will always be equipped for the persons needs. I need a place to work out, so it becomes this. If you needed a quiet place to study away from a noisy house, it would become that as well."

Diggory glanced over at her with an amused smile. "I'm guessing you come here a lot more often than three times a week, then."

Hermione blushed and looked away. She made her way over to a sturdy bench and set her sai case down, unzipping it and opening it so that the silver weapons gleamed under the torchlight. Cedric drifted over to her side, curious. "Where did you get those?"

"Oh… my mother, my birth mother, left them to me." She looked up at him, suddenly doubting her bringing him here. Kathryn was remaining oddly silent about the whole thing. "You… look, no one knows about this. And I think I'd rather they didn't."

He met her gaze, silent for a moment before smiling. "Secret's safe with me, Hermione. I won't tell a soul."

She relaxed. "Thanks." She stepped away from the bench, rubbing her palms over her jeans legs.

"Can I stay and watch?"

"Pardon?"

Cedric gave a shrug. "I've never seen anything like those before." He ran a hand through his curls. "Pureblood, y'know. Don't always get to see muggle things. I'd… like to stay."

The request sounded odd to her ears, but she found herself nodding. "All right." The prefect smiled and took a seat on the bench. "I've got to warm up first. Don't want to tear anything." Where the hell was Kathy?

Feeling exceedingly awkward at having an audience, Hermione concentrated on her usual warm ups. She'd only had to let Kathryn have control a few times before she'd learned the routine by heart. It truly was faster to commit things to memory this way, but it did feel like cheating. She tried to only indulge it when it came to the things Kathy wanted her know outside of her coursework.

* * *

Cedric observed from the bench. The stretches were about the same as what he had his team go through before practice and games. Once suitably limber Hermione began stripping off the sweater and jeans, revealing a rather close fitting outfit that showed a bit more skin than he was used to seeing in a girl. She seemed relatively unfazed, however. Must be a muggle thing.

She folded her outerwear and set it on the bench to the other side of her strange looking weapons while he did his best not to ogle and keep to being a gentleman. Taking the wicked looking items in hand, she moved back to the center of the floor and started going through a series of slow and graceful moves that quickly made him forget that she was next to naked. She was just a third year, for Merlin's sake! He shouldn't be having thoughts like that about her in the first place. Hadn't he just saved her from the clutches of a precocious third year who _was_ having thoughts like that?

The movements increased as Cedric studied her. Some were quick and sharp, clearly meant to attack with force, while others were smooth and sweeping and likely meant to either distract or to inflict damage that was noticeable without being lethal. Still others involved her moving her body in directions he didn't think humans were supposed to be able to bend at all. It struck him that in a fight she might be very hard to hit as her lithe form twisted and undulated as though to some melody only she could hear.

Time passed without notice. Diggory didn't even realize that he had come forward in his seat to rest his elbows on his knees as he watched her. This tiny little slip of a girl would be a force to be reckoned with and he felt a bit silly trying to 'save' her from Zabini at all. Now that he knew more, he should have been saving the Slytherin.

She came to an end in a combination crouch/lunge, one weapon thrust forward as if in a killing blow while the other was kept close to her body as though to block any unforeseen attack. He realized she had finished when she relaxed the tension in her body and stood back up, arms falling to her side. Immediately he got to his feet and applauded, knowing that the performance he had just witnessed deserved recognition.

* * *

Hermione gave a jump. She'd completely forgotten Cedric was there. Her cheeks burned as she looked quickly away. "So… that's it."

"That was amazing, Granger! Like moving poetry. Where did you learn how to do that?"

She gave a shrug. "Just… practice mostly." Still uncomfortable under the praise she walked back over to the bench and secured the sai. "Anyone could probably managed it if they took the time."

"Somehow I doubt that. I don't think I could ever bend backwards that far, not even on my broom." He tilted his head to one side, studying her. "Imagine how you'd fare in a duel if you could do that with wands."

_"There's an interesting idea."_

_"There you are! Where were you?"_

_"Watching you flirt with the pretty piece of jail bait."_

Hermione's cheeks burned scarlet, but Diggory had moved his attention to the sai and, gratefully, didn't notice. _"Jail bait? And I wasn't flirting!"_

Kathryn gave a 'snort'. _"Yeah, right, and I'm not six feet under. And ' jail bait' is a term I picked up from my American friends. It refers to a sexy piece of something that's so young you'll be thrown in the lock up if you touch it. Though I suppose he's not illegal for you, just for me."_

Hermione swallowed and waited for Diggory to finish studying the sai so she could zip the case back up. "I don't think you could do it with wands. I mean you'd have to be able to say your spells awfully fast."

"Now you would, of course, but you'll learn non-verbal spells once you hit sixth year. It's quicker just to think than it is to actually say them. Though it might be hard to concentrate on the spells with all the darting and dashing."

_"I wouldn't think it would be any more difficult than fighting an actual opponent with blades without getting skewered."_

_"No one fights with two wands."_

_"Just because no one does doesn't mean no one can. I'll have to do some asking around."_

Hermione pulled on her jeans and sweater, unaware that Diggory was carefully looking elsewhere. Her work out garb was normal for any health club in the muggle world and she often forgot that the magical world was still stuck in another age where women should be covered from chin to ankles. Besides, she didn't think of herself as a sexual creature in any shape, form or fashion. It just didn't occur to her that Cedric might find being this close to her anything other than normal.

"So… I should probably escort you to the tower. Just in case Zabini's lying in wait somewhere." He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping that it just looked as though he was working out a crick. She must have bought it because Hermione gave him a smile and a nod.

"And you can give Oliver that congratulations. He might even forgive you for beating him in the first game, now."

That helped him find his center. Cedric arched a brow, his lips twisting into a wry smirk. "Clearly you don't know Oliver Wood all that well."


	10. Chapter 10

Between her full exam schedule and dodging the pestilence known as Blaise Zabini, Hermione had little time to worry about her physical training. Kathryn proved wise enough to keep silent on the matter, likely sensing how close to the breaking point she was. With everything piled up on her even Hermione knew she was constantly only half a step away from snapping someone's head off. Or smacking Draco Malfoy again.

Actually, now that she thought about it, smacking Draco was somewhat therapeutic. Perhaps she should add it to her daily routine.

As for dodging Zabini, she had an unexpected ally in Cedric Diggory. If Harry and Ron weren't willing or able to remain in the library with her, Diggory would often take up residence at her table across and caddy-cornered from her. The fifth year prefect also let her study in peace, likely because he was preparing for his OWLs and had just as much on her mind as she did. They didn't speak very often, but just his quiet presence seemed to be enough to keep the Slytherins away from her.

She worked her way through her exams with her usual mix of excitement and anxiety, and did very well up until DADA. She had grown accustomed to the idea of having a werewolf for a teacher, though she hadn't breathed a word of it to anyone other than Kathryn who already knew just about everything she thought anyway. That werewolves were real had taken her late mother by surprise, just as the revelation that trolls were real had done. After spending the year studying Remus Lupin, Kathy had come to the conclusion that lycanthrophy was a rather horrid thing to have, but seemed to equate his condition along the lines of someone infected with HIV or leprosy; you simply couldn't blame him for his illness.

_"It would be rather cruel, even for me. I mean he's already survived a vicious attack. I doubt that he _asked_ to be mauled by a werewolf."_

She had a point. Hermione waited her turn to run through the clever little obstacle course and moved forward. The kappas and grindylows were a cinch, as were the pixies and a few stations with questions to be answered and charms to be demonstrated. It wasn't until she had to climb into the chest with a boggart that she had a problem.

The interior of the chest was black as pitch. She quite wondered how she was supposed to fight anything if she couldn't see it. Then, as if sensing her thoughts, a light flared. She blinked a couple of times until she could focus and saw that the light was being emitted from the tip of a wand. Looking past the wand she found herself meeting the black gaze of a woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties. The orbs were solid black, not even a hint of white showing, and were set in a thin, pale face. Dark hair was pulled back tightly from her scalp into an unforgiving braid. She was dressed all in black, wearing what looked like some sort of leather corset decorated with silver buckles and chains and a pair of dark jeans that disappeared into leather boots that had a good three inch heel on them.

The witch looked Hermione over with an expression of barely contained disgust. There was something oddly familiar about her but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She swallowed, wondering why she should be afraid of this image when the witch spoke.

"Was I ever truly this weak?"

Hermione blinked, freezing in place. She felt Kathryn flinch inside her mind and realized what she was staring at. This wasn't her boggart; this was Kathy's. This is what her mother had feared she would become.

And now she was starting to feel fear. The boggart gave her an evil smile and took a step towards her. "So pathetic. You have no clue as to your real potential. You can be so much more than you are now. Grindelwald? Voldemort? They are nothing compared to what _I_ have become. The world trembles at my feet."

Hermione swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest. The evil Hermione continued to hold her wand high in her left hand, but now was bringing her right hand up with a calculated slowness, the wand light glinting off the blade of a wicked looking dagger. With a scream she threw herself back and frantically climbed out of the chest, slamming the lid shut.

Professor Lupin was there in a heartbeat, his hands on her shoulders as he tried to calm her down. "Hermione! What's wrong?"

Her head was spinning. 'Nothing's wrong, Professor. I just saw my future self and I turn into an evil bitch bent on world domination!' "Pro… professor McGonagall! She said I failed everything!" No sooner than the lie was out of her mouth then she heard Ron let out a bark of laughter. No one doubted her. It was perfectly plausible that her boggart would have something to do with her studies.

The exams behind them, she started to relax a bit with the exception of the occasions when the boggart tugged at her memory. She knew her respite from training was at an end and she would have to return to pushing herself physically as well as mentally, but for the moment she enjoyed being with Harry and Ron as they waited the outcome of Buckbeak's 'appeal' that same day.

_"Who brings the executioner to the appeal?"_

Hermione's heart gave a twist. _"Someone who doesn't intend there to be a successful outcome."_ Poor Buckbeak. Poor Hagrid. She and the boys ran to the gamekeeper's hut, desperate to be with him at this time.

They found him trying to hold himself together and barely managing. Buckbeak was tied up outside so he could enjoy a bit of fresh air before his execution. The friends agreed to one last cup of tea with Hagrid but he couldn't handle the dishes without breaking them. Hermione got up to help, taking up the teapot and fighting back her own tears until she opened the lid. The gnarled sight within forced a yelp of surprise from her. "Ron! It's Scabbers!"

He looked even worse than he had before his disappearance. Hermione tipped him out onto the table so that Ron could snatch him up. He'd lost quite a bit of weight and his fur was coming out in patches. The poor thing looked as though he'd been through a great deal of stress and Hermione refused to think that Crookshanks could have been the cause of all of it.

Ron was still trying to calm his rat when they realized that the Minister of Magic, the Headmaster and the executioner were on their way to the hut. Hagrid shooed them off, not wishing them to get into trouble. Hermione was shaking so hard she thought her legs would collapse as she huddled under Harry's cloak with the boys. Poor Buckbeak! It wasn't his fault that Malfoy was such an arrogant, idiotic prat!

_"Hermione, death isn't anything to be afraid of. It's a natural part of the cycle."_ Kathryn's voice was uncharacteristically gentle inside her mind. It occurred to her that her mother just might be trying to be comforting. _"I know you're young yet, but truly, consider who you are. If _anyone_ should be comfortable with death it should be you."_

_"But I'm _**_not!_**" She forced herself not to cry. Ron was still holding onto Scabbers. _"How can you be so calm about it?"_

_"Hermione, I _am_ dead. And before that I wasn't particularly cozy with the living."_

It was times like this that Hermione came very close to hating Kathryn. She was about to argue further when she heard the distant song of a swinging axe, followed by a solid thunk. The three friends froze, Hermione's breath catching. "They… they did it. I don't believe it."

Buckbeak was gone. It seemed unreal. Intangible. Tears burned her eyes even as she felt the cold flutter of Kathryn in her mind. _"Hermione… something's off."_

She swallowed, slightly aware of Harry's hand resting lightly on her shoulder. _"What?"_

_"Did you feel him die?"_

Hermione frowned, not sure what Kathryn was getting at. _"What do you mean?"_

_"I didn't feel him die. Usually you don't notice the death of animals, or even the death of random people, unless there is some reason for you to be focused on it. You were strongly focused on the hippogriff, so you should have at least been able to detect the crossing from life into death. But there was nothing. Not so much as a blip."_

That didn't make sense. Of course, most of what she was learning about herself didn't make sense. Before she could inquire further, however, Ron let out a yelp. "Scabbers! He bit me!" The reason for the rat's frantic behavior became apparent almost immediately as Crookshanks appeared, moving towards Ron and Scabbers at a quick pace. The rat got free from his master and took off at a scamper, Crookshanks in hot pursuit.

Of course, Ron had to leave the safety of the cloak to go after his rat, which put him in danger of being caught outside after dark. Hermione called after her cat but she and Harry had to give chase. That, of course, meant abandoning the cloak. With hearts hammering inside their chests they tried to catch up to Ron and eventually succeeded after he had caught Scabbers.

They had to get back to the castle, only Ron looked as though he'd seen a ghost. Turning to look in the same direction as their friend, Hermione and Harry gaped at the large, hairy black dog now running towards them. Instead of tackling Harry, however, it jumped for Ron, grabbing him and pulling him towards the Whomping Willow. Before either of them could reach their friend they saw him pulled into a hole in the roots of the tree, his leg cracking with a sickening crunch.

_"Oh, shit! Okay, calm down. All we need to do is access the Continuum and track his life thread. Let me drive. We need to be quick."_

Before Hermione could think to 'step back', however, Crooks ran to the tree and pressed a knot on the trunk. The swinging branches froze as though hit with a body bind. Harry and Hermione gaped as the ginger cat ducked into the hollow among the roots as well. With a determined look to one another they headed forward and dove in before the tree could decide to start moving again.

_"Hermione! What the fuck do you think you are doing!?"_

_"Not _**_now_**_!"_ She 'pushed' Kathryn out of her 'way' as she moved with Harry through the cramped tunnel. She could hear her birth mother cursing at her and calling her an 'idiot child', but her best friend was in danger and she couldn't rely on tricks she still didn't fully understand how to use just yet to get him back.

They made their way through the tunnel and came out of the other end into a ramshackle building with damaged furnishing and peeling walls. Hermione looked around her, eyes wide. They were in the Shrieking Shack! Only… she couldn't sense any… any of _them_.

They saw a wide, shiny stripe where something had been drug upstairs through the dust. With slow, cautious steps they made their way up, certain that their hearts were beating so loudly that they could be heard. The trail led them to a bedroom and there, on a four-poster bed, was her cat. He purred contentedly upon seeing her, but her eyes were drawn to a pale Ron, clutching his leg.

Harry frowned. "Where's the dog?"

"Not a dog. It's a trap. He's an animagus!" Ron was staring behind them, making Harry and Hermione turned around. There, near the wall, was Sirius Black. Shocked, neither of them thought to move before Black disarmed them using Ron's wand. Kathryn was fuming.

_"Running after a murderer! Now you've lost your wand and you didn't even have the sense to bring so much as a dagger with you! I can't _**_believe_**_ you're my daughter!"_

Hermione felt the icy cold of Kathryn's mind as spirit attempted to assert control over her. Her vision blurred for the briefest moment before she gathered her wits and shoved the dead woman back. _"Not _**_now!_**_"_

_"I want you out of here!"_

_"I won't leave Harry and Ron!"_

_"Harry and Ron are expendable, Hermione! The castle is full of thirteen and fourteen-year-old wizards. There's only _**_one_**_ of _**_you_**_!"_

She didn't have time to deal with this right now. She had to focus on what was going on at the moment, putting herself between Harry and Black much to Kathryn's outrage. It took every ounce of concentration to keep aware of what was going on in the room while keeping Kathy from taking over her body and removing her from the conflict. She saw Harry attack Black, hitting him and managing to get his wand back, pointing it at the man and trying to screw up the nerve to kill him. Of course, they hadn't been taught any _lethal_ spells, yet.

Kathryn tried again to take her over and again Hermione shoved her back. Finally the solution dawned on her. Putting her 'lessons' to good use at last, she 'reached' for a mind. Any mind. In spite of its reputation, there were no dead souls in the Shrieking Shack, but the Hogsmede cemetery wasn't that far away. She sent a thought that way, a soft plea for assistance and was rewarded by the memory of two witches newly arrived to the Great Majority hurrying to her to 'hold' her mother back.

This small victory took long enough for Professor Lupin to arrive. Now able to fully focus on the events as they were happening, Hermione felt certain that the teacher would save them from Black. To her shock she watched him embrace Harry's would-be killer as though they were long lost siblings.

"I don't believe it!" And she couldn't, not really. She had been covering for him the entire year! Keeping his secret firmly behind her teeth where she guarded her own so closely, and all the while he had been helping Black in his attempts to get to Harry. She felt like a complete and utter fool. And, finally, after all her efforts, she exposed Lupin for the creature he was.

She had to get Harry and Ron out of here. In spite of what Kathryn maintained, they were _not_ expendable. Harry would be easy enough, but she didn't think she could get Ron out without hurting his leg further. And she had to be careful. Clever as she was, she still wasn't all that experienced with navigating the Continuum. Doing so would allow her to get the three of them to Hogwarts almost instantly whereas Black and Lupin would not be able to apparate in pursuit. The first obstacle would be to get Harry and Ron into the Continuum without them panicking, and she really didn't have a way to warn them without being overheard.

Through her ciphering she heard Professor Lupin begin his explanations about being at school with Black and Harry's father. About how the boys had become animagi illegally just so they could run with him when he turned at the full moon. It would have all been quite touching if it weren't for the fact that Black was trying to kill Harry. But then Black and Lupin said something that threw her off her figures.

"He's a wizard. An animagus, named Peter Pettigrew."

The equations just popped out of Hermione's brain as she gaped at them. Ron denied it vehemently, of course, but it was true that Scabbers seemed to have lived an awful long time to be an ordinary rat. And then there was the missing toe on his front paw, when all they ever found of Pettigrew had been a single finger. Black proclaimed his innocence? Pettigrew had been the betrayer? The one responsible for selling James and Lily Potter out to the Dark Lord? It was too fantastic to be believed.

_"Of course it is, Hermione! They're trying to distract you!"_ Kathryn still could not reach her, the spirits holding her still keeping her at bay. _"Get out of here before the pair of them set on you all! Take the boys if you must, but you have to get out!"_

Hermione took a breath, trying to weigh everything at once. They had their wands back as a sign of trust, so perhaps their claims were worth hearing out? But then she heard Severus' voice. All eyes turned towards the door as her 'father' undraped Harry's invisibility cloak, having picked it up at the base of the willow.

She could practically feel the venom and hatred rolling off of Snape. She knew he loathed Lupin, but apparently he hated Black even more. He made no secret that he fully intended to turn Sirius over to the Dementors. The spell left her lips before she could even think. "Expelliarmus!"

She hadn't been alone. Harry, Ron and Hermione stared down at her father's now motionless form. "We attacked a teacher…" _I attacked Severus. _

_"You are so going to be grounded for this."_

Harry challenged Lupin and Black, demanding that they prove their claims. Ron didn't want to give up Scabbers, but he would be unharmed if he were an ordinary rat. Lupin and Black aimed their wands at the rat and it shortly began to twist and writhe, growing in size until Scabbers wasn't Scabbers anymore. Instead was a rodent-faced, waxy looking man with watery eyes and a wholly untrustworthy appearance. Harry and Ron were so shocked that they didn't hear Hermione mutter the first thing that popped into her mind, very softly under her breath.

"Shit-fire-mother-fucking-damn."


	11. Chapter 11

Pettigrew had clutched at her, pleading with her to intercede on his behalf. She'd pulled back from the despicable creature, revulsion roiling through her. She couldn't believe that someone would betray his 'best friends' in such a fashion. Harry was an orphan because of this coward's actions!

"You can never trust those with a pulse, Hermione. The living always look out for their own interests. Those closest to you are the most likely to slip a knife between your ribs."

So cynical, her mother. Still, faced with this rodent-faced excuse for a wizard she had little to say to the contrary.

They secured Wormtail to Ron and Professor Lupin to lead him back through the tunnel. Harry was right; they should take him back to the castle. However, the suggestion to let the Dementors have him once there didn't set well with Hermione. Nor, it seemed, with Kathryn.

_"I can't even believe that your lot has anything to do with those creatures!"_

_"They are unsettling, but why do you hate them so much?"_

"Ask around in the grave, Hermione. All the dead hate them and creatures like them. They are abominations; not truly dead but not truly alive. No better than vampires and certainly having no place in the world."

Though the venom in Kathryn's 'voice' wasn't entirely understandable to her, Hermione felt herself agreeing. It seemed instinctual, hating the Dementors. They felt unwholesome to her. Instead of feeling saddened in their presence, she felt revulsion and intense hatred towards them. To her surprise, they always seemed a bit nervous around her as well. Or at least they had started behaving that way after she'd figured out the combination to her mind. Was she imagining it, or did they edge away from her whenever she was forced to walk past them on her way down to Hogsmede now?

Hermione glanced back at where Sirius was magicking Severus along. She winced as his head struck the ceiling._"I don't think he's bothering to be very careful."_

"_Let him. Maybe if he knocks him around a bit more the man will forget you attacked him."_

It was a warm and fuzzy thought at the moment, even if it was a futile one. He would remember her attacking him. He'll fume and stew over Harry and Ron, but he'd see her attack as a betrayal. They had almost gotten to a point in their relationship where they had, if not actual affection, some understanding of one another. This was likely to set them back quite a bit.

They made their way out of the tunnel and back onto the Hogwarts grounds. Hermione could hear Sirius and Harry talking and knew it was something private between the two of them. She turned away politely, giving them their space. Part of her was pleased that Harry finally had someone he could consider family of his own. A connection he could hold on to apart from those hideous Dursleys.

Her eyes swept over the grounds. Night had fallen while they were in the shack and the landscape was inky black when it wasn't illuminated by moonlight.

Hermione froze.

Moonlight!

Her eyes went up and she saw to her horror that the moon was full and bright. Just as quickly she turned to check Professor Lupin and found him rigid, rooted in place. "Harry!"

_"Oh _**_fuck!"_** Hermione couldn't agree more. She watched in horror as Lupin began to shift. It looked painful beyond imagining. She dimly heard Sirius telling them to run, that he would handle this. Her legs hesitated to move until Kathryn screeched inside her head to snap out of it even as Sirius morphed into Padfoot, heading the werewolf off with a snarling leap.

_"What part of 'run' do you not understand?!"_

Hermione couldn't. Harry was still there, watching in horror as Sirius and Remus vanished out of sight. They heard 'Padfoot' cry out in pain a little while later and Harry ran out after him. Hermione was torn between following Harry and staying with Ron who couldn't very well run with his broken leg. Damn.

And to make matters worse, Severus chose that moment to wake up. What's more, he was pissed beyond reason. The look he gave her before he'd gone off on the direction Harry had vanished made her cringe, but she had an odd feeling that he could handle whatever was going on. Shaking, she stayed by Ron's side, mopping his brow, which was clammy with sweat in reaction to the pain from his leg.

Time seemed to stretch out, seconds becoming minutes and minutes feeling like hours. Something silvery white and massive ran past her too quickly for her to tell what it was, the light blinding her. It took her a moment to register that it had been a patronus and she turned around to watch the brightness of it head to the castle with impossible speed before everything was plunged into blackness again.

She waited longer, but not too much longer before she heard frantic voices. Professor McGonagall's was among them as she, Hagrid, Hooch and Sprout came into view. "Miss Granger! Mr. Weasley! What the devil are you doing out here?" Hermione wondered if she knew her accent got thicker when she was upset.

"Severus, he went after Harry and Sirius." Hooch was leaning over Ron, frowning at his injured leg still bound up in the makeshift splint before she cast a levitation charm on him to lift him from the ground. "Professor McGonagall, Black didn't do it! He's innocent!"

Her teacher blinked at her in confusion. She might have been speaking in gobbledygook for all the sense she seemed to be making. But Black was innocent! And Harry had gone to save him! "Miss Granger, we need to get you to the castle."

"Professor Lupin's out there, somewhere. And… and he didn't take his potion tonight. He's dangerous!" She called this out after Hagrid who was lumbering off towards the direction from which the patronus had come. She'd almost forgotten about the werewolf loose on the grounds. She felt McGonagall's hands on her upper arms as the witch coaxed her to her feet.

"All will be fine, Miss Granger. Let's get you up to the hospital wing and have Pomfrey look at those scratches." She and Hooch got her and Ron back up to the castle and up to the infirmary. In no time at all she was being fussed over by the mediwitch who was insistent on her drinking a steaming potion that tasted like bathwater mixed with lemons. It chased away the sting of her many cuts and scratches but did little to nothing to ease her dread. She was in the middle of arguing against being forced into a pair of hospital pajamas when an unconscious Harry was brought in, Severus close behind.

_"Oh, thank God."_ Hermione held back until Madam Pomfrey was satisfied before moving to sit on the edge of Harry's bed. He looked pale and his skin was clammy, but he was alive.

_"You're really close to these two brats, aren't you."_

_"They're my best friends. And Harry…"_

_"Has too damn much piled on his shoulders. It's inexcusable, what they expect of him. He's just a boy."_

_"He's more than that. He's a wizard."_ Hermione remained by his side, hearing the adults in the room discussing what had happened. Dementors! Attacking an innocent boy! A shudder ran through her and she fully agreed with the disgusted growl coming from Kathryn in her mind. Dumbledore was right in distrusting those monsters. They could suck out a soul and they had apparently been intent on taking Harry's as well as Sirius'.

Harry came to, disoriented and groggy. Hermione could almost feel his frustration as they tried to convince the grown ups that Sirius was innocent. That Pettigrew was alive. Still, Dumbledore was right in that the Ministry was hardly going to take the world of three thirteen-year-old wizards. Hermione was going to say something more, but Kathryn's inpatient voice caught her off guard. _"Tell the old coot to get one with it already! You're almost back!"_

_"What?" _Then it clicked as Dumbledore started hinting about needing more time, reminding her about the laws and suggesting three turns. _"I'm almost back?"_

_"Did I stutter? I really hate that thing, by the way, but at least I'm not affected by it. There have been two of you running about for a bit now. So you and Harry run along and rescue your giant chicken and his godfather. You succeed, by the way." _Hermione thought she almost detected a note of pride in her mother's voice. _"You're quite a chip off the old block, even if I must say so myself."_

* * *

_September 19th, 1979._

"Why are we here?" Michael held up the torch as a stubborn Kathryn pried the lock off the door with a crowbar.

"Because Geoffrey has all the nearby hospitals under watch. I can't risk it." The lock broke and she opened the door. It was inky black inside, but they didn't dare turn on the lights in case someone drove past and saw them from the road. Kathy took the torch from him, using it to light their way through the darkened building.

Michael noted the plush carpeting and the stoic, somber décor. Mortuaries and funeral homes were creepy enough in the daytime. On a storm-ridden night like this they were downright terrifying. He might have been able to ignore it better had it not been for the person he was here with. "You're certain this is the right place?"

Kathryn gave a snort. "This is me you're talking to… _ah!_" She stopped, dropping the torch as she reached out to a wall for support, her other hand going to her bulging stomach. Michael reached out to her out of reflex, supporting her as she took several ragged breaths, steadying herself. "The pains are getting closer."

"There might still be time to find a midwife. You don't have to do this here."

He knew she was smiling though he couldn't see her face. "Can you think of anyplace more fitting for someone like me?" She waited for him to fetch the torch before they continued on. The embalming room was downstairs, under the rooms where mourners and families could say goodbye to their loved ones and ignore the less-than-pleasant methods undertaken to prepare the bodies to go underground. They eased their way down a staircase that was wider than normal to make room for gurneys and coffins to be transported up and down should the lift ever be down.

Michael froze as the lights in the embalming room came on before they reached the bottom stair. "Someone's here," he whispered. Kathryn gave a weak but amused chuckle.

"Of course there is. It's a funeral home." She continued on to the set of double doors with their square windows. Michael saw someone lumber past. Even the brief glimpse told him that the person inside was too sickly pale to be considered normal.

He swallowed. Hard. He could work with Kathryn for another forty years and never feel at ease with the things that happened when she was around.

Kathryn pushed her way through the doors, taking the sight inside in stride. Michael came in after her, turning off the torch and trying to avoid looking at the figure now spreading white sheets onto a cold metal table. "Michael Turner, allow me to introduce Doctor Hyram Gold, former head of Obstetrics at Our Lady of Sorrows. Deceased as of three forty-seven this morning due to a massive coronary."

The body that was once Dr. Gold turned about. Michael couldn't stop himself from looking up and immediately wished that he hadn't. The figure's mouth hung open slightly and he was completely nude, having been relieved of his clothing when he'd been brought in. He had not yet been prepared, as evident by the lack of cuts or stitches, so he was likely the first one in line to be embalmed the following morning. The part Michael couldn't stand, however, was the eerie, greenish glow from behind the body's eyes. He'd seen bodies get up for Kathy before. They always had that same, sickly glow about the eyes.

"Pleasure." His voice was barely audible. Michael swallowed and looked to Kathryn who seemed to be trying to find the strength to stay on her feet. "What… what do you need me to do?"

"Help me get my knickers off? I think it might be hard for the good doctor to help me out with them on."

He nodded and moved over to help Kathryn in any way she needed him to. He knew this was costing her, having to ask someone for help who was still warm and alive. She hated it, thinking it made her weak. She'd hated the past several months, actually. The pregnancy, the hormones and mood swings that had come with it, it had made her feel more like a normal person and Kathryn St. James wasn't like normal people. Sometimes Michael wondered if she didn't resent the child she carried because she made her want something that was never possible, a normal life.

It took a great deal of effort on his part, but Michael was able to force himself to accept that Kathryn's baby was about to be delivered by a dead man. His job was just to be there and to protect her if they were interrupted. Not entirely outside of the realm of possibility if Dr. Gold's obituary had hit any of the papers already. Geoffrey Trout was a shrewd man and he would immediately see the possibility that Kathy might seek help from the dead if her chances of getting to a proper hospital unseen were taken away from her.

And Michael would hold her hand when she needed something to hold onto. It was likely the first and only time the embalming room would play host to such an event, with a weary and sweaty woman straining to bring new life into the world. He wondered if the girl would ever know just how much trouble her mother was going through to protect her? How much was being sacrificed to keep her safe? Had Kathryn's lover been a normal man or even an ESPer like himself then these measures would not have been necessary.

But Trout ruled Britain's E-Branch with an iron fist and had a strong distaste for their world mixing with the wizards. He'd been pissed enough when St. James had walked out on them to stalk the necromancer even after he'd forbidden all of them from getting involved in the 'Wizards' War'. Once he began to suspect that the baby Kathy carried might have been fathered by a wizard, Michael had known mother and child were in danger.

The storm raged outside at Kathryn strained. The girl had to be born soon. She had to come out in time to give them the time they needed to get out before the director of the funeral home came in to start the next day. Finally, after what felt like a monumental struggle, the baby was delivered into the cold, stiff fingers of the former Dr. Gold. Michael watched as dead hands moved with practiced skill to clear out her lungs of amniotic fluid. Bluish skin turned pink as she began to wail, oxygen filling her system.

And Kathryn cried. Michael, wisely, said nothing. He doubted the woman had ever shed a tear since her own childhood. He knew she would not appreciate his commenting on what she would see as a sign of weakness now. Instead, he did as she bade him, even when she asked that he leave her alone with the child a few moments so that she could say her good-byes. Standing outside the double doors, he busied himself with mentally going over the rest of the plan.

All was in place. The Grangers were 'abroad' and would return with their newly adopted daughter in a few days. All he had to do was get the baby to them. The paperwork was completed and the private adoption would be sealed. He knew that Kathy's old school friends didn't fully understand the need for all the secrecy, but they were grateful enough to be able to circumnavigate the long waiting lists for a healthy baby that they would go along with it.

Trout would suspect his involvement, of course, but Michael was unconcerned. His own primary ability was to reshape memories. He could keep deflecting the man as long as he needed to. It would be foolish to attempt to erase any memories of Kathy's pregnancy as too many people knew, but he could keep him from learning what had happened tonight. As for Kathy, the moment she had her strength back she would simply slip through one of her 'doors' and go wherever it was she planned to live from now on.

Michael hoped that they were doing the right thing. He knew the reasoning behind it was willing to acknowledge the sense behind it. Still, he couldn't think that somehow the infant girl on the other side of the doors was being wronged in some way.

* * *

_May 13th, 1993_

The thunderclap and lightening of the storm woke him. Michael gasped as he was torn from the memory in the form of a dream.

"Kathryn."

A sleepy mumble came from his left side as his wife turned over and snuggled more deeply into her pillow. A moment later she was still again. Michael frowned into the darkness of their bedroom before sitting up, legs bending over the side of the bed.

Why was he dreaming about that night now, after all the time that had passed? Was something wrong? Had something changed?

Over time his secondary talent had gain some small amount of strength, but still only worked in dreams that were more often riddles. Not really a precog, but he could get a sense when something was… off.

Had something happened to Kathryn? Was something wrong with the girl?

Had Trout found her?

Geoffrey had fallen out of grace over Kathryn's disappearance. E-Branch was still under government control, though it was a secret and shadowy part of the government. Having what was arguably their most talented member quit had not helped Trout's career options. He'd been forced to resign in disgrace and Michael had been aware of a good deal of bitter feelings.

Running his fingers through his graying hair, he sighed. He knew his talent would not yield answers until it was good and ready, and he did not dare to seek out one of the stronger talents to help. After more than a decade, Kathryn St. James had been relegated to the status of a myth or legend inside their small and quirky circle. Alongside her grandfather, the Great Harry Keogh. The newer members had trouble believing in people who could coax secrets out of the dead and raise nearly unstoppable foot soldiers merely by asking for help. They didn't have camcorders back in the old days, though Michael doubted many of them would have had the stomach to film some of the things Kathryn had pulled.

Lightening flashed again, accompanied by another clap of thunder. For a brief instant the room was illuminated in shades of gray, then all was dark again. With a sigh the man known as Michael Turner lay back down beside his wife and stared up at the ceiling. He was one of the few people who knew about the Grangers and the adoption. He would see about looking them up in the morning. Maybe it was time to check on Kathryn's daughter. Just to make certain everything was all right.


	12. Chapter 12

Mr. Ollivander had learned how to make wands at his father's knee. Like most artisans who had gone on, the elder Mr. Ollivander had continued to do what he loved most in life. When Kathryn had helped Hermione to find him, the old wizard had been intrigued by her inquiries.

"_I don't think it's ever been done before, but I don't see why it would not work. The cores would have to be near opposites, of course, and the wood would need to be fairly rigid in order for them to work with the types of hand movements you are intending."_

He had welcomed the chance to take on the project, filling her mind with measurements and schematics. She knew that he'd found it odd to be in the body of a young girl as he used her hands to sketch the designs onto a generously sized roll of parchment, though he adapted quickly. Once his idea was completed in charcoal, Hermione carried the roll of parchment with her to the wand maker in Diagon Alley. The currently living Mr. Ollivander had been surprised and intrigued by her request, all but salivating over the sketches and schematics, and hinting that perhaps Hermione should consider an apprenticeship in wand making when she left school.

The late Mr. Ollivander also gave her another name; Gustav Ramonoff. He had been quite possibly the world's finest duelist in his lifetime. From what she could surmise the wizard was buried in his wife's family plot near the eastern border of Poland. This time Kathy had made her track him down on her own so she could learn to draw up the equations to access the Continuum and become familiar with searching amongst the many minds of the Great Majority in order to find a specific individual. She found Poland to be delightfully dry compared to England and had spent several hours sitting in on the hard ground next to Gustav's worn headstone as she spoke to him about her needs.

_"It has been done before, but rarely and only out of great need. Of course, it has been done with two ordinary wands rather than what you are suggesting. You are young yet, and will need training, but I can help you there. We can start immediately."_

_"I'm underage, though. I can't use magic outside of school."_

_"We will not use real wands. We can carve practice wands from the same type of wood to be used in the dueling wands so that you can become used to the heft and feel of them as well as master the rhythm of the spells. We have the entire summer to practice. We'll add actual spell work once you are back in school and Ollivander has fulfilled your request."_

That was how Hermione had found herself practicing spells without actually practicing spells. According to Gustav she would need to master silent spells in order to become a skilled duelist. _"You can think with more speed than you can speak, My Lady. The victorious duelist is the one who can cast the spell with the mere inkling of the spell in his mind rather than calling forth the entire spell."_

_"But what of the wand movements? I don't see how I'm supposed to manage them properly at the speeds we're considering."_

_"Wand movements help lesser wizards get the spell out properly. Hone your mind to razor sharpness and you won't have to waste time with twirling and swishing."_

With the dummy wands carved, they first worked on getting down the way to use just one of them. The wands in question were double ended. The finished products would be about twelve to thirteen inches long, two and a half inches of the length taken up by the center piece which would take the place of the handle end of a normal wand. Two wand ends, shorter than the average wand, would come out from the center on either end. She would have to learn to keep a grip on the wand without making it too tight so that she could still twirl and flip it as needed.

The schematics she had sent Mr. Ollivander called for the wands to be made with a separate core for each end. One side of each wand would have dragon heartstring, the other side would have unicorn hair. One wand would be made of walnut, the other made of oak. Both Gustav and the late Mr. Ollivander were in agreement that, eventually, she should be able to use all four wand tips with great fluidity, casting her spells in succession with such efficiency that it might appear that she was casting two or three spells at once.

They were quite excited by the prospect. More than she was, if the truth were to be told.

As the weeks passed she did her best to squeeze in as much time as she could with her parents, work on her physical and wand training and keep up her correspondence. Harry had sent out a plea for help after learning that he was to follow the same diet as his gigantic cousin to which she responded with a box loaded with sugar-free treats. Kathy had suggested she just go get him and bring him home, certain that her old friends (Hermione's parents) would take one look at the scrawny boy (Kathy's words, not hers) and do their best to bring him up to fighting weight. Hermione had pointed out that Mrs. Weasley was the default surrogate mother and she suspected that Harry would end up at The Burrow eventually.

And she kept in touch with Severus. His letters were back to being stiffly formal and cold after the incident at the Shrieking Shack, and she got the impression he suspected her as having had something to do with Black's escape. That being said, she had been surprised to receive his invitation to accompany him to see the Quidditch World Cup. Apparently Lucius Malfoy had been invited to watch the match from the Minister of Magic's box and had secured two extra tickets so that they could come along as well. He would, of course, accompany her to Diagon Alley upon their return from the cup to assist her with securing her school supplies and she was invited to stay with him at his residence at Spinners End for the rest of the summer.

She had thought to stay with Harry and Ron at The Burrow, but she knew that she shouldn't reject the olive branch if he was willing to extend it. After checking with her parents, she sent him a reply accepting his invitation. Two days later came the invite from Molly Weasley, also to attend the World Cup and to spend the rest of the summer with them. With heavy regrets, she sent a polite apology explaining that she had already agreed to attend the match with Professor Snape.

Knowing that her time with her parents was short, Hermione slacked off in her practice for the final few days. Also wanting to squeeze out the last ounce of togetherness that they could, they moved their appointments at the clinic and dedicated all their time to her. They visited a museum and splurged on dinner at a fancy restaurant one night where they all dressed to the nines. She and her mother spent one of the days being pampered at a quaint spa where she was given a pedicure and manicure, her nails painted a light, shell pink that seemed far more innocent than she felt any longer.

Kathryn was uncharacteristically absent during this final week home. Hermione couldn't detect even the slightest chill inside her mind to indicate that her other mother might be present but keeping to herself.

They were on their final day together, the day they were due to travel to Spinners End, when someone rang the bell. The three of them were playing a game of Scrabble in which her father was winning as he usually did. Hermione wasn't allowed to use words that were from the magical world since it might give her an unfair advantage. She always tried to argue to get that particular rule chucked out on the grounds that her father was a walking dictionary, but so far had been unsuccessful.

Hermione scrambled up from her seat on the floor and made her way to the door. She peered through the peep hole to see a man she did not recognize. Instinct made her reach for her wand tucked into her back pocket, though the man's clothing as a bit too muggle for most wizards. Palming her wand in one hand, she opened the door, keeping half of her body hidden behind it. "May I help you?"

The man blinked, looking at her in surprise. He looked to be in his mid-forties, perhaps a bit older, with salt-and-pepper hair and blue eyes. He cleared his throat before speaking. "Hello, I'm Michael Turner. I was looking for some old acquaintances of mine; Jacob and Hannah Granger."

Hermione gave a nod, hiding her confusion. "If you'd wait here, please." He nodded and remained on the front step as she went back into the living room where her father was adding a word she could have kicked herself for not thinking of first. "There's a man calling himself Michael Turner at the door. He says that he knows you."

Hannah frowned, thinking hard before looking to Jacob. "It sounds familiar. Where have we heard that name before?"

Jacob rose from his chair. "Michael and Turner are both relatively common, but I believe Kathy had a friend by that name. He was the one who brought Hermione to us in Spain."

Hannah blinked. "That's right." She watched as her husband moved through the living room towards the hall to get the door. "What on Earth would he be doing here now?" She looked to Hermione who shook her head in matched confusion. Hannah's eyes then fell to the wand still held in her daughter's hand. Hermione blushed and tucked it back into her back pocket.

A moment later Jacob was leading Michael into the living room. The man still seemed a bit uncertain. "I didn't mean to interrupt family time."

"It's quite all right. We're just surprised to see you, is all. We haven't seen you since you brought Hermione to us. Please have a seat. Can I offer you a drink?"

Turner cast a glance towards Hermione as he sat down. "No, thank you. I won't keep you long." He looked around the living room with its many pictures of the family and of Hermione on her own in celebration of various academic achievements. "How… how have you been?"

Hannah gave him a curious look. "We're fine. Are you here about Kathy?"

Turner gave a glance towards Hermione before looking back to Hannah. "You told her about the adoption?"

Jacob cleared his throat. "After a fashion. Kathryn apparently made arrangements to disclose everything to Hermione in case she died. Her barrister contacted us last year." Michael's face registered disbelief. "I'm sorry… I assumed you knew since you… well…"

Hermione watched the man carefully. Was he an old flame of Kathy's? He seemed shaken by the news. "Mr. Turner, did you know my birth mother very well?"

He offered her a somewhat weak smile. "Probably better than most. We were employed by the same people."

"Oh, so you're in law enforcement as well?" Hermione 'reached' out with her mind, trying to find the cold strand that was her mother. Something told her that Kathryn should be in on this. She came across Gustav, who had been hovering relatively closely, patiently waiting for her to resume her practices. A silent request sent the dead wizard's mind off to look for the other necroscope.

Michael tilted his head politely. "After a fashion, I suppose." He looked a bit off balance. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have intruded…" He made to get up, but Hannah stopped him with a soft request.

"No need to rush off, Michael. Actually, Hermione might enjoy being able to talk to someone who knew Kathryn after college. She can talk to Mr. Snape directly, but she doesn't have that chance with Kathy."

Turner blanched. "She… she knows about _him_ as well?" He looked shocked by this.

Jacob frowned. "It was Kathy's idea. She wanted full disclosure."

"_Full_ disclosure." Turner frowned now, casting Hermione a curious look. "I… see…."

Hermione was about to ask something when a familiar chill settled into her skull. _"Michael? Shit-Fire-Mothe…. This can't be good."_

"I can't really stay. Not today. I have to head back to the office." He got to his feet. "Perhaps in a few days?"

"Hermione is going to be spending the rest of her summer with her birth father. She leaves tomorrow. But perhaps the two of you could correspond once she returns to school. We can forward your letters to her in our care packages if you like." This from her mother who was ever mindful that the address for Hogwarts might be a bit odd to most people. They sent their care packages through the Department for Wizarding Families, which had several witches and wizards dedicated to helping muggle parents adapt to having magical children.

_"Move over, Hermione. Let me drive."_ She did as she was told and found herself looking through her eyes but not in control of her body. Michael said that he would be in touch and she heard herself offer to show him to the door. Instead of stopping there and letting him cross over the threshold alone, however, she stepped out with him and shut the door behind her. "All right, Mikey, what gives?"

Mr. Turner stopped and looked at her in mild discomfort. "Miss Granger?"

Hermione felt her lips turn up into a smirk. "Guess again, Turner."

His expression became one of understanding and she watched as he gave a hard swallow. "You reversed it."

"Had to. Never got around to giving her that baby brother or sister I was planning on." Hermione/Kathryn looked casually about the street, eyes taking in every detail. "Why are you here? Why hunt them down after all this time? I know Trout's not in charge any longer."

"How do you know that?"

"I have my sources." She looked back at him. "I always have my sources. So what's rattled the cage?"

Michael looked around this time, just as carefully and as casually as she had. "Dreams. Nothing I've reported or plan to report, but they got me worried. I dreamt about the night she was born. It was like I was back there. All the fear at being found out."

_"Found out? What's he talking about?"_

_"Nothing you should be concerned with."_ "Do they know about her?"

Turner shook his head. "No, they don't. The newbies don't even believe in you. Not really. They think you're the boogey man we concocted to keep them in line." He offered a slight smile. "Of course, we've got a couple of really good recruiters. They don't know what to look for, but if Hermione's come into her own it's only a matter of time before they pick up on something."

Hermione felt Kathryn flinch a bit. "I was afraid of that. Do what you can to keep them off her case? She's got enough on her plate as it is without having to deal with all that crap."

"Like what?"

Hermione/Kathryn frowned. "Things look like they may be heating up on the other side of things again."

A dark look entered Michael's eyes. "Heating up? Then is it wise to let her get close to him? You always said that you didn't fully trust the lot he ran with."

"And I still don't, but there are other issues at stake. I didn't realize before just how serious some of them took things like birth and station. Acknowledging him might give her some added protection. Besides, I couldn't very well hide it once we let her know who I was. He teaches at her school."

"Really? From what you told me about him I wouldn't have pegged him as the teacher type."

"He's not. I certainly wouldn't put him in charge of impressionable young minds. He's a bigger bastard than Geoffrey."

"That's bad." They shared a laugh over a joke that Hermione didn't understand. Michael gave a final chuff before taking a breath. "How did it happen, Kathy?"

Hermione felt her gaze go cold. It struck her that she didn't know the answer that herself. How _did_ her mother die? Before she could ask, however, she heard her voice respond in an answer that was clearly meant for all parties involved. "That topic is not up for discussion."

Well, that was that, then. For now.

* * *

He was disgusted with himself. Narcissa Malfoy was amused.

Over the past week the house at Spinners End had been aired out, scrubbed out and repairs made. The most noticeable change had been the second largest bedroom which had been freshly painted in colors that were unbefitting the man who was head of Slytherin House; soft cream with subtle highlights of soft pink.

"She doesn't strike me as a 'pink' person."

"That's why there's very little of it. Oh, do stop scowling, Severus. She's a Gryffindor. I doubt seriously she's going to appreciate having it done up in skulls and snakes." Narcissa was looking very pleased with herself as she watched a house elf move a new book case into place.

Severus was disgusted with himself because it had been his idea. At first, anyway. He'd not cared to do anything with the house since he'd inherited from his parents, and had never had to share the space with anyone before. Now however, he was going to have Hermione here for nearly a month as she waited for the start of term and had thought it might be nice to have it seem a bit more welcoming. As much as he could manage, at any rate. Unsure of how to go about it, or even how to prepare for an adolescent girl, he'd asked Narcissa for advice. Her response had been to take over.

At least the witch had enough sense to listen to him when he told her that Hermione would _not_ be interested in dolls or posters of whatever stud wizard was in vogue. Instead the walls were decorated with prints of maps and rune charts. Things that a clever girl such as his daughter would find intellectually stimulating.

Thankfully Mrs. Malfoy was satisfied with her work before the day the Grangers were due to drop Hermione off. Almost. He'd drawn the line at her attempt to get him spruced up. The girl already knew what he looked like; there was no sense in trying to be someone different now. Thus he was still the same Severus Snape he always was when Hermione and her legal parents arrived at his doorstep. The adults were politely formal in what could not help but be an awkward situation for all parties involved and the Grangers took their leave after sharing a quiet tea. Once alone, Severus showed Hermione to her bedroom and hovered at the door while she examined it.

It was quite different from the rest of the house. Not as dark or as oppressive. Narcissa had done wonders in making it feel better suited to such a young girl. He watched as she turned about in place, taking in the bed with its bright quilts and mountain range of pillows, the framed maps and charts and the windows with sheers to allow in copious amounts of sunlight. To his relief, she smiled and threw herself onto the feminine love seat that made up part of a small sitting area set aside more for style than for actual function.

"I take it that you are pleased with the room, then?"

"It's gorgeous!" Her monstrous cat seemed to agree. The orange pouf leapt up onto the bed and quickly made himself at home in a patch of sunlight. "Thank you."

"Yes, well," he flexed his shoulders slightly, "make yourself at home. I'll leave you to settle in. We should retire early tonight. We'll have to meet Lucius and Draco about dawn. You'll need your rest."

She nodded her understanding and gave him a tentative smile. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

* * *

_"Ugh!"_

_"I like it."_

_"It's so… girly!"_

Hermione rolled her eyes. _"In case you haven't noticed, I'm a girl."_

_"Yeah, but not this much of one! I swear there wasn't _anything_ like this in this house when I was sleeping here. You were lucky if he bothered to beat out the rugs, let alone clean or paint. What _have_ you done to him?"_

Hermione gave a snort and moved from the love seat to the bed, stretching out next to Crookshanks who purred and shifted so he was snuggled up to her side. _"He's just trying to get better acquainted, is all. At least he didn't do it all up in teddy bears and dolls."_

_"Even he has better taste than that. This isn't right. Some woman did all this. Who's he shagging?"_

_"You sound jealous."_

_"I do _**_not_**_**"**_

She buried her face in the comforter to smother her giggles. Kathryn sounded so offended at the suggestion._"I don't know much about his personal life. If I were to hazard a guess, barring any female relatives I've yet to meet, he would have either asked Professor McGonagall or Mrs. Malfoy for help. Although my money would be on Mrs. Malfoy. No red and no lions."_

_"And no hot boys in kilts."_ Hermione rolled her eyes. _"What? I don't buy that prim and proper show she puts on. I'd bet she sneaks off to the highland games to drool over the men."_

The thought of Minerva McGonagall drooling over anyone made Hermione a bit queasy. _"Just because you're a total perv doesn't mean everyone else is."_

_"I still think you should have planted one on that Quidditch captain of yours when you had the chance. Oh, well, there's still that Cutie from Puffy."_

_"The who from what?"_

_"That Diggory kid. Now there's a boy who's destined to grow into a damn fine piece of manhood. Might be a bit too smart, though. You have to watch the smart ones. They don't let you get away with nearly as much."_

She sighed, not bothering to correct Kathryn on the name of Diggory's house. _"You were with Severus, and he's right clever."_

_"Yeah, but I was the rebound chick. He was head over heels for someone else. I was just a convenient shag for him. Made him far easier to get along with."_

Hermione frowned. This was new. _"He was on the rebound? Who from?"_

_"Not sure. But he called me by her name once when he came. Some flower name. Lily, I believe." _Hermione choked. _"Oh give over! The whole point of having sex is the big finish. Sticking your head in the sand won't make it all go away. You had to come from somewhere."_

She didn't bother to correct Kathryn's assumption.


	13. Chapter 13

If she had to spend another hour with Draco Malfoy she was not going to be responsible for her actions. The prat should be on his knees thanking his maker that she had decided to leave her Sais at home; otherwise he would already be roasting over an open flame.

To be fair, he was trying to be charming. It was just that she couldn't stand braggarts and his drawling, nasal voice was like nails on a chalkboard to her. Severus and Mr. Malfoy were talking amongst themselves, Lucius having suggested that the 'children' be allowed to become better acquainted. But she didn't _want_ to become better acquainted with Draco. He was a rude, annoying little snot!

"Of course, Father felt that it would be foolish to spend money on new brooms for the Slytherin team this year, considering there would not be any Quidditch played at all. Not with the…"

"Now, now, Draco. You know that is supposed to be a secret." Lucius gave his son a stern look before turning a polite smile to Hermione. When he spoke, however, it was to Severus. "I understand your daughter finished last year top of her class again. You must be pleased."

"Of course. Hermione is a joy to all her parents." He always made certain to include the Grangers when talking about her family so as not to ruffle her feathers. She gave him a small, grateful smile in return. Lucius, however, did not seem impressed. She knew that he'd rather the Grangers be taken out of the equation completely, the thought of them raising a magical child abhorrent to him.

"He was a total arse when he was younger, too. Guess no one ever got the balls to beat it out of him. Knew I should have done it when I had the chance."

The thought of Kathryn beating the crap out of Lucius Malfoy had a certain appeal. Harry's father and godfather could've sold tickets. She conjured an image of her very scary birth mother in her biker boots and leather duster standing over the elegantly pale Lucius Malfoy, a foot on the back of his neck to keep his face pressed firmly to the floor of a boxing ring. Now, if only she had popcorn. Of course, Mr. Malfoy was probably one of those deviants who secretly enjoyed being dominated by a woman.

Ugh. There was a mental image that didn't bear repeating.

Draco had started it on some new topic, the first part of which she missed entirely as she looked about. A familiar face caught her attention and a tall, handsome boy finished putting the final stake on a tent. "Cedric!" She smiled and waved as he lifted his head in response to hearing his name.

_"Oh yummy!"_

_"Shut it!"_

A shorter man, presumably Cedric's father, looked to see what had drawn his attention and gave a friendly nod. The pair of them meandered over and Amos Diggory extended a hand to Lucius, who accepted it politely but without any real desire. "Mr. Malfoy, Professor Snape, it's good to see you both. Glad you could make it."

"Wouldn't have missed it, Diggory. No telling when one of our teams might get this far again. Allow me to introduce my son, Draco. And this charming young lady is Professor Snape's daughter, Hermione."

She noted that he left off 'Granger', but let it slide. Mr. Diggory seemed to catch on, however. "I believe Ced's mentioned you. He sought out an instructor near town to teach him muggle fighting arts. Says you were his inspiration for it."

Hermione felt her cheeks color and saw Severus turned his head towards her from her peripheral vision. "It's just something to do. Keeps me in shape."

"Well, it's certainly putting Cedric on his toes. He'll be drawing scouts from all over, as lean as he's getting." There was an obvious note of pride in Amos' voice as he clapped hand on his son's shoulder. It was quite endearing.

Cedric, however, seemed a bit bashful under the praise. "I wondered why I didn't see you with the Weasleys. We just left the whole lot of them not too long ago. Harry was with them."

Hermione's spirits lifted. She hadn't seen Ron and Harry since the end of last term. She knew she had to look desperate when she turned her eyes to Severus. She saw his jaw tighten and she lowered her gaze. She knew he hated the friendship she had with them, but she wish he'd just get over it!

"I suppose it would be churlish of me not to let you catch up with your friends." She looked back up, unable to keep from smiling. "But you are to return here to go with us to the stands."

The thought of spending time with the Weasleys seemed distasteful to Lucius Malfoy, but he motioned to his son anyway. "Draco can escort her and ensure she returns safely." Oh, damn. Not that!

"I can escort her." Hermione looked over to Cedric with unfeigned gratitude. "I promise to bring her back in one piece, even, no matter how much trouble she tries to get in." His father laughed at his cheek, but Severus gave him a nod of acceptance.

"Guess Severus got smarter in his old age. Not that he wasn't dead clever before."

Hermione bade farewell to the wizards and to Draco before walking off with Cedric, eventually swallowed up by the crowd. "Saving me again, I see?"

"I have a reputation of being the gallant knight to uphold. Besides, I wanted to ask you what your secret is?"

She gave a start. "I beg your pardon?"

He grinned. "How did you manage to spend all day with Draco Malfoy and he still has all his limbs attached? I would have bet you'd have amputated at least a leg by now."

She gave a snort of surprise. "It wasn't easy, believe me. I had to leave my favorite toys at home to keep me from temptation. All I've got is my wand, and I can't use that unless I'm threatened."

"Lucky Draco."

They found the Weasleys, which wasn't very hard. All they had to do was find the largest concentration of red heads and listen for Molly's voice. The plump, motherly witch gave a shout of delight upon spying Hermione and wrapped her up into a vicious hug as soon as she was close enough. "There you are you darling girl!" Letting her go she examined Hermione with shrewd eyes. "Looking a bit gaunt, I think. Come and sit down, the both of you. I was just about to feed this army."

A young man who Hermione recognized from last year's newspaper clipping to be Bill Weasley smiled over at Hermione. "Good thing Snape got you a ticket. That way Mum got to come along, too. She was going to stay home so you could come with Harry and Ron."

She was aware of Diggory sitting down beside her. "That's awful! I wouldn't want to make your mum miss out on this! She shouldn't have offered if there weren't enough tickets to go around."

Bill waved off her concern. "Kids first. Ron's hers and you and Harry might as well be." He grinned at her blush before looking over to Cedric. "Fancy seeing you again. I've just spent a good deal of time listing to Fred and George complain about you beating them last year."

Cedric gave a shrug. "It shouldn't have counted. The Dementors got onto the field and disrupted the game. There should've been a rematch."

"Harry said you'd say that. Hufflepuff to the core, eh?" He shrugged. "Some of the best wizards are." He extended a hand to shake Cedric's. "So, how did you get so lucky as to land our honorary baby sister, here?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Cedric saved me from the odious presence of Draco Malfoy. And Lucius Malfoy for that matter."

"She was handling them quite well, but anyone could see that she was a hair's breadth from committing murder. I didn't think that Mrs. Weasley would appreciate it if I let her get carted off to Azkaban."

"If who got carted off to Azkaban, Dear?" Maybe Cedric wasn't a usual 'dear' to Molly, but she called all young children 'dear', even the ones who were of age and didn't practically live at The Burrow. She gave plates to Hermione, Cedric and Bill. Charlie, Ginny and the twins came out of the tent carrying their own along with their father. Fred and George grumbled at the sight of their unexpected dinner guest but their stomachs won out.

"Cedric was telling me how he kept Hermione from murdering the Malfoys."

"Why the bloody hell would you stop her from doing that?" asked Fred.

"Yeah, that would be a public service, that would," added George.

Molly gave them a scolding look. Arthur acted as though he hadn't heard them. The others laughed. "What's the joke, then?" Heads craned around to look up at Harry and Ron, a bucket of water between them. Harry grinned at her. "All right there, Hermione?"

"Never better. I've got a sausage." She meant the sausage that Molly was serving for dinner and didn't understand why the older boys found that so funny.

_"I've really got to have that talk with you one day."_

* * *

She had just about had it with Fudge and the man hadn't said more than a sentence. The Bulgarian Minister of Magic was clearly fed up as well. Still, he recognized Harry and started babbling in his native tongue. _"No clue what he's saying, though."_

She heard a snort in the back of her mind. _"You don't listen to a damn thing I tell you, do you? _Ask_ someone."_

Oh. Right. Hermione trained her eyes on the magical billboard directly across from their box, but not seeing it as she stretched out tendrils, looking for a 'teacher'. It took a few minutes, but the threads that connected the Great Majority were better than fiber optics. Soon she felt a shift in the ice water sensation that seemed an almost constant companion to her any longer, and words made sense.

"The Boy Who Lived, right here! What is he doing wasting his time around this idiot? Can't imagine how he even made it to Minister of Magic."

Hermione managed not to laugh. She schooled her features politely and looked to Harry. "He's very honored to meet you, Harry."

Her friend gave her an odd look. "Yeah, well I'm pleased to meet him, too." He and Ron looked at one another curiously, but they both froze on shock as she turned her head back and spoke to the Bulgarian Minister of Magic in his own tongue, though slightly accented.

"**Harry would like you to know that he is happy to have met you, Sir."**

Everyone in the box who was within earshot froze. Severus gave her a questioning look. Mr. Malfoy looked shocked and impressed. The Bulgarian Minister of Magic looked a bit discomfited as he realized that his previous insults were likely understood, but he relaxed when she gave him a playful smile and a wink.

Fudge cleared his throat. "You speak Bulgarian, Miss Snape?"

She turned her head sharply. "Just something I picked up." _Actually, Bogomil Dimitrov speaks Bulgarian. _"And please, Minister, my legal name is still Granger."

"Of course. Forgive me, Miss Granger. Oh, but I wish I'd known this earlier. You could have been of invaluable help to me today."

She blushed and thought that, perhaps, she should refrain from showing off in the future. She found her seating assignment shifted at the request of the Minister so that she was seated directly behind himself and his Bulgarian counterpart, putting her close enough to act as interpreter should she be needed.

And Ireland won! She cheered along with the rest, though even she was impressed by Krum's final move. They were getting their lunch handed to them, but he had saved his team from a humiliating defeat. It made the loss easier for his countrymen to swallow. She remained close by the Minister, mainly because he would put a hand on her shoulder ever so often and lean over to ask her to relay a message to his counterpart, as they waited for the teams to come up.

"_Poor kid looks like he got the business end of a cricket bat."_

Krum did look a mess, but Hermione couldn't help but applaud. She heard the Bulgarian Minister of Magic telling him how proud he was of their valiant effort. And they had been, truly. Ireland had taken the cup, but Bulgaria and Krum were the stars of the game.

Mr. Bagman roped her into playing interpreter for him and the Irish team as well, conveying their wishes to the Bulgarians. Krum wasn't much of a talker, and the bloody mess on his face obscured much of his expression, but she got the strangest idea that he was starting at her. It made her a bit nervous, truthfully, and she was glad when she finally was able to shake free of her unintended duties.

"_You should have known that might be a problem. I only intended for you to be able to eavesdrop, not open your mouth."_

_"I'll know better next time, then."_

She found herself leaving the stadium with Severus' hand on her shoulder so that she wouldn't be swallowed up by the throng. "I suppose it shouldn't surprise me that you know languages other than English, but Bulgarian?"

She gave a shrug and a nervous smile he couldn't see with her facing away from him like she was. "Just something to do." That sounded enough like her for him to give an amused snort.

They made their way back to Mr. Malfoy's tent. It looked like nothing more than a high quality family sized camping tent in rip stop nylon from the outside, but inside it was the size and scope of an elegantly appointed hunting lodge. The kind that the very wealthy used for get aways and very little hunting. She'd been given a room to herself next to Severus' and away from Draco's. _Thank Heavens._

"_You know, he's not that unattractive."_

_"Physically, perhaps, but the personality ruins the effect."_

"_Well, there is that."_

There was a rap on the tent door and Hermione paused halfway to her room to look about curiously as Draco opened the flap to reveal Cedric Diggory. He let the tall boy in and Hermione saw Ginny slip in behind him. The redhead looked about once before spotting her and giving a grin. Severus arched a curious brow. "To what do we owe this pleasure, Mr. Diggory?"

"Professor." He gave a polite nod of his head and another one to Mr. Malfoy. "I just rescued Ginny from that mob she calls brothers and we were wondering if Hermione might be allowed to come out and enjoy the celebration with us. I promise to keep a close eye on her."

Brilliant! Her eagerness must have shown on her face because Severus gave a long-suffering sigh. "See that you do, Mr. Diggory. You are to have her back in no more than four hours or you will find your return to Hogwarts most uncomfortable."

And with that Hermione hurried forward, grabbed Ginny by her hand and ducked out into the revelry of the night. They stopped short a few feet from the tent opening for Cedric to catch up. He grinned at them both before looking around. "Ladies, let us see what the night has in store for us, shall we?"

There was music, laughter and merrymaking at every turn. Ginny shouted to her that she'd only been allowed to come out because Cedric had told Mrs. Weasley that he needed her in order to rescue Hermione from the Malfoys. Of course, Severus likely had only agreed to let her come out because Cedric had Ginny with him, so it worked out beautifully.

Cedric got them cold drinks and sweets from the Irish revelers as they explored further. The Bulgarians were celebrating as well and she caught a flash of a Bulgarian National Team uniform caught in a throng of Veela who seemed intent on 'consoling' the defeated players. Diggory put a hand over her eyes and turned her away when he noted that things were getting a bit too aggressive over there. Eventually they made it over to where most of the Americans were staying and found that the yanks really knew how to throw a party at the last minute. They'd conjured a dance floor with strings of lights and a makeshift stage where a band was playing. They weren't brilliant, but they could keep in tune and offered a good beat. Ginny and Hermione laughed as Cedric did his best to dance with both of them at once. He was surprisingly athletic as he held each of them by one hand and twirled them both.

Eventually they got too tired and out of breath to continue and found a place out of the main foot traffic to sit down and cool off a bit. Cedric leaned back against the thick trunk of an old tree while Ginny and Hermione both perched upon outcropping roots sipping from cups of lemonade that tasted as though it might have been given a little something extra that they probably shouldn't be having. "Do you suppose the twins are somewhere stirring up trouble?"

Ginny snorted. "They were still breathing when I saw them last. Mum's furious with them at the moment."

"What for?"

Ginny's face broke into a grin. "They're trying to start up a joke business. They've been inventing things for months and have all these tricks they've come up with. They tried one out one Harry's cousin when they went to fetch him, Ton Tongue Toffee. Harry said that his tongue grew about two feet when he ate it."

Cedric opened an eye and looked at Ginny. "That's bad form of them. Your father working like he does to fight for Muggles and they're pulling stunts like that?"

Hermione agreed with Cedric. "That was rather mean."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "If it were anyone else I'd agree with you, but this was Dudley we're talking about."

"But if he's Harry' cousin…" Cedric stopped at the stern frowns the girls shared. "What is it?"

Ginny glowered. Hermione shifted on her root. "Cedric, Harry's relatives aren't very nice to him. Their treatment borders on abuse. They made him sleep under a cupboard under their staircase until his Hogwarts letters started to arrive and they were afraid they might be watched."

Cedric looked as though this concept was completely foreign to him. "But… he's _Harry_."

"And the Dursleys hate magic." She gave a helpless shrug and let the conversation die off. Ginny broke the tension by poking her in the ribs and nodding her head over where a trio of girls kept glancing their way. She and Ginny shared a knowing grin and a giggle. "That again."

Cedric looked over at the girls, who giggled and started whispering together excitedly, then back to his two companions. "What again? You can't hear what they're saying from here."

Ginny looked positively evil. "We don't have to hear them, Mr. Diggory. We've heard it all before." She put the back of her hand to her forehead and hitched her voice up a notch. "He's so _handsome_."

Hermione leaned over against Ginny's shoulder, affecting a soppish expression. "So _strong_ and_silent_."

"I don't care if I have a bloke! I'd give anything just for one kiss!" Ginny clutched playfully at Hermione, resting her head upon her shoulder as though dealing with some painful burden. Hermione hammed it up a bit more as well, noting Cedric's face burning scarlet.

"Oh, if _only_ he would notice me!"

"Ginny. Hermione." The girls looked up at him, batting their eyes in feigned innocence at the determined expression on Cedric's face. "Run."

With twin squeals they leapt to their feet, cups forgotten as they dashed off. Cedric was on his feet and chasing after them in an instant, his longer legs closing the distance easily and forcing them to take shelter behind a cart housing kegs of ale and pitchers of more lemonade. He feinted to one direction, tricking them into taking off in the other before they realized his strategy. Ginny just missed his outstretched hand and he caught Hermione instead who gave a laughing scream as he spun her around with a laugh that was supposed to mimic some over-the-top villain.

And then there were real screams reaching them. A loud blast sounded out, followed by more screams. The three of them looked up with everyone else and frozen in shock at what they saw.

_"What the fuck is that?!"_

The muggle who ran this patch of earth and his family were hovering in the air, suspended by sickly green light and being misshapen and twisted by magic. Hermione felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. Her eyes fell to the figures responsible and she saw the hooded robes and skeletal masks. Inside her mind she heard Kathryn give a venomous hiss. _"Them. Hermione, get out!"_

Cedric seemed to be of the same mind, because he reached for Ginny, his other arm still holding Hermione to his side, and pulled them with him as they moved with the crowd. "Come on! Let's get you out of sight!" He hurried them to the tree line, back into the protective shadows of the trunks and branches. He didn't stop until he had found a clump of trees close together where they could lean against them and pushed the girls into a crouch behind them, hovering over them with his wand out and watching through a small gap for any signs that the might be followed.

Hermione swallowed, hugging Ginny to her tightly as she strained her ears to listen. The happy night was shattered by the growing wave of fear.

* * *

_"Again."_

"I will never be caught unarmed. I will always have at least one blade and my wand on my person at all times. I will always be prepared to fight because failure to do so means death."

_"Again."_

"I said I was 'sorry'. I was stupid! I know that!"

She was sitting on her bed in her nightgown, keeping her voice soft so she didn't wake Severus down the hall. Her eyes burned with tears after the scolding she had received from Kathryn.

_"Again!"_

"I will never be caught unarmed. I will always have at least one blade and my wand on my person at all times. I will always be prepared to fight because failure to do so means death."

_"Again."_

"I'm _tired!_ Please let me sleep!"

_"You can sleep when I'm satisfied you fully comprehend. Again!"_

Hermione sighed, putting her head to her knees and recited the passage again. She continued to recite it until almost dawn and her voice was horse from the effort.


	14. Chapter 14

Severus' eyes were looking at the parchment before him, but he wasn't truly seeing it. His thoughts were still in turmoil after the events at the World Cup.

_Damn Lucius and his penchant for brandy._

In retrospect, he should have kept Hermione from leaving the tent. Things likely would not have gotten as far out of hand as they had if she'd been present. She was still an unknown element to the others; known to be a fan of Dumbledore's and still not entirely trusting of her biological father. With her out of sight, however, his old 'friends' had allowed themselves to get a bit wild, culminating in a bit of muggle torture and reminding everyone present that the Dark Lord's followers were still about. His part in the events sickened him, even though he'd only kept to blasting tents out of their path and not actually inflicting any harm or embarrassment on the muggles directly.

He would need to be somewhat less acerbic towards the Diggory boy this year. He couldn't be _kind_ of course, but Cedric had kept Hermione out of danger. Though not quite of age, he was very close and had more talent towards magic than most. Like his daughter, Diggory's birthday fell a bit too late in the year, making him older than most of his fellow sixth-years. He would turn seventeen shortly after the start of term. A grown man by magical reckoning.

Thank Merlin the boy was a Hufflepuff. He'd be concerned by their budding friendship had he been in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. He suspected Hermione had better sense than to let herself become entangled with any of the current Slytherins. Diggory epitomized his house, possessing honor and fairness in spades. He would be more apt to keep his hormones in check than someone from one of the other houses. Not that Severus thought him a eunuch; he just believed the boy was more trustworthy.

"Does everything meet with your approval, Sir?"

Severus pulled himself back to the task at hand. Having already helped Hermione secure her books, new robes and dress robes for the coming year (he still thought the neckline was too low) and her other school supplies, he had agreed to let her meet her friends at Fortescue's for an ice cream while he attended to 'other matters'. He hadn't wanted to discuss them in front of her, but changes needed to be made to his will. Previously he had everything divided to go to his godson, Draco, and to the school. Now he had a daughter, however, and the bulk of his possessions were rightfully hers upon his demise. She didn't need them, of course, but it was the principal of the thing.

"Yes, this all appears to be in order." Draco would still inherit a sizeable portion, but his home, his books and the rest of his liquid assets would be Hermione's. He'd purposefully left out any clauses to force her into marriage. He knew better than to try and dictate such things to her. She wouldn't have any need of his money to survive and even if she did he doubted that she would bow to his wishes. Sometimes there was too much of her mother in her.

_He sought out an instructor near town to teach him muggle fighting arts. Says you were his inspiration for it._

Severus frowned at the little snippet of memory. Kathryn had been interested in such things. The more intricate and demanding on her, the better. Her body had been taught and firm, a sculpture of sinew and muscle that had just enough fat on it to keep her from looking overbuilt. He hadn't loved her, had barely even liked her, but he had adored her body and the flexibility it had possessed. At times it had almost made him forget Lily, but not quite.

He took the quill and signed his name on the last parchment before handing it over to the Ministry clerk. He should have done this last year after learning about her, but the shock had still been too new. And, perhaps, he'd been afraid that it would turn out to be some elaborate hoax. Now, however, he was certain. The girl was his blood. He took credit for her brains and for her magic and thanked the fates that she'd gotten her mother's looks.

He only hoped that was all she'd inherited from Kathryn.

* * *

"So what's his house like? Does he have skeletons manacled to the walls?" It was amazing how Ginny could look utterly innocent when asking such things. Ron and Harry sniggered into their sundaes.

"Yes, he does. And there are bottles of poison on every bookcase. Honestly!" Hermione rolled her eyes and fidgeted with her bags again. She'd stopped by Mr. Ollivander's shop before meeting them and had been presented with a polished oak case containing her new wands. The aged wizard had been fairly trembling with excitement and made her promise to tell him how they worked for her as well as finagled a promise for a demonstration later on. He seemed to think he would be seeing her again fairly soon.

She'd only held them for a brief moment. She knew that they were the same weight and size as her dummy wands, but the addition of the magical cores made them feel wonderfully strange. And powerful. Perhaps a bit too powerful.

What was she getting herself into?

Ron grinned at her. "At least he hasn't demanded you be moved to the dungeons. You can at least stick with your own kind."

"I wouldn't move to the dungeons if he put me in chains and hauled me down there physically. I'm a Gryffindor unto the end!" She punctuated her statement with a flourish of her spoon and the other three people at the table gave a hearty cheer. They were, perhaps, the only truly happy ones present. The news about the events at the World Cup had most people on edge. Not that she could blame them.

"Have you heard from Cedric since the attack?" Ginny and Ron shook their heads. She knew the Diggorys lived in the same area as the Weasleys, but she supposed they weren't close friends.

Harry gave her a slight smile. "But only because everyone's been busy. Mrs. Weasley baked a whole box of sweets and sent it over to the Diggorys for him, to thank him for looking after you and Ginny. I wouldn't be surprised if he gets a Christmas sweater this year. She's right taken with him at the moment."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Like he needs any more female attention."

"Ron, that's hardly fair! Cedric doesn't ask for attention. It just sort of… finds him." She exchanged a grin with Ginny, thinking back to the twittering girls who had been watching Cedric from afar before everything had gone to chaos. For a moment she was grateful not to have been born beautiful. It seemed like a horrid burden.

"What about you, though! Fudge sure was impressed by you, Hermione. Dad says he's mentioned you by name since the Cup." It took her a moment to figure out what he was talking about, but it finally dawned on her.

"Oh, that. That was nothing." She shifted a bit uncomfortably in her chair. She was going to have to keep a lid on things. Watch herself more closely. It was one thing for people to think she was a know-it-all. It was entirely something else to actually _be_ a know-it-all.

Harry looked about to say something more but stopped, his expression becoming stoic as his eyes looked above her head. "Good afternoon, Professor."

"Mr. Potter. Mr. Weasley. Miss Weasley." That was about as polite as Severus ever got. She supposed she should be thankful he wasn't giving them detention. Hermione looked up and over her shoulder at her second father.

"Would… you like to join us, Sir?"

He arched a single brow at her, but she thought there might have been a twitch at the corner of his mouth. Maybe an aborted smile? "Thank you, but I do not care for ice cream. At any rate, it is getting late in the day and I do desire to have dinner at a reasonable hour. We should go."

She swallowed and nodded. As she got up she took time to hug all three of her friends. Perhaps even lingering over it a bit longer than needed just to see if Severus would make one of those impatient tsks of his. He did. Then, gathering up her parcels, she followed him back out of the alley and they made their way home.

* * *

_"Okay, that guy's just plain creepy. Cool thing with the eye, though."_ Hermione swallowed and tried to keep her own eyes off Alastor Moody. She'd grown used to the silence since the Cup. After Kathryn's 'punishment' the disembodied voice in her head had taken off to parts unknown. She should have known she'd pop back up when school started. Something told her that Kathryn was a bit jealous she didn't have a special school she could attend when growing up. Some place for people with unusual talents but not quite witches.

Dumbledore went to finish his explanation as to why there would not be a Quidditch Cup, and the reason behind it floored her. Surely she'd heard wrong, only everyone else was excited, too. They couldn't possibly be serious!

_"What's wrong? Sounds like fun."_

_"It's dangerous! People have died in the Tri-Wizard Tournament."_

_"A school tourney? That's a bit much, isn't it?"_

That was exactly the point. Still, everyone went their common rooms buzzing with excitement. And students from other schools, though. That was something. She wondered who would make a play to get in.

_"I'm not too keen on the 'possible death' angle, but you could do it."_

_"What! I'm not skilled enough to be in that tournament."_

She felt Kathryn snort. _"A few choice tutors and you could be with no trouble. But, again, I don't like the thought of you dying. Not over anything so silly at any rate. If you're going to be killed, go out in a blaze of glory doing something worth while."_

Hermione nibbled on her bottom lip as she climbed into bed. _"Did you go out doing something worth while?"_

There wasn't an answer for the longest time, and Hermione thought that she'd made Kathy cross with her again. Then, finally, _"I believe that I did. It was something worth while to me at any rate."_

The weeks passed by far more quickly than she would have expected them to. It helped that she was always busy. Especially with worry over Harry about his scar and the visionary dream of Voldemort. Kathryn found this interesting as well, and not only from the view of what she seemed to consider an inevitable conflict between sides she had designated 'good guys' and 'total fucktards'. Her other take on Harry's scar was interest in the artifact from his past possibly granting him some odd type of clairvoyance or precognitive ability. To that end, she often left Hermione alone and made no bones about stalking Harry. Hermione found it disquieting. At least the school ghosts were usually visible when they were spying on you.

She also had her studies and, of course, her training. She'd had to work out a schedule of physical training on even days and practice with her new wands on odd days with Sundays firmly off limits to either. That way she only had to dedicate an hour to each on any one day and give herself something resembling a rest. Today, however, wasn't a rest day. And it wasn't a physical day. Today was a Gustav day.

The champion duelist was in the back of her mind, coaching her. After returning to school they had first returned to the basic steps developed with the dummy wands. That meant using only one of the two wands, casting a spell with one tip before flipping it over and casting the next spell with the opposite end. She used a steady rhythm as she did so in a sort of one-two beat, picking up the pace slightly as she did so.

Once she had that down they added simple foot work. One, two, step and pivot, then one and two in the opposite directly. Eventually she worked up to doing to pivot while casting the spells, though this threw off her aim slightly and she had to practice a bit longer to get it back. The room of Requirement had provided life-sized dummies with targets on their chests to help give her something to 'attack.'

After she had one hand pretty much down, they added the second wand and started over from the beginning with simple one-two drills with alternating hands before working up to adding the footwork. Even though she knew she was casting spells with the same speed of a skilled duelist with one wand, she was still abysmally slow. The idea was to get skilled enough she could take multiple targets on at once, but she could still get hit from behind when concentrating on someone in front of her. She had to get to where she could think the spells quickly enough that she could cast a shield charm behind her back to deflect a curse while casting a hex at someone in front of her.

Gustav and the late Mr. Ollivander were both pleased by what she'd accomplished so far. _"You're trying something that's never been done before, Girl! I dare say that few wizards would have even contemplated such things. We've grown so used to the concept of 'wand hands' and how things are usually done. You've done remarkably well to have mastered non-verbal spell work at such a young age as it is."_

She gave a snort and answered out loud, taking comfort in being the only living body in the room. "I'm sure that had nothing to do with you grilling me about it the entire summer."

_"We achieved the desired results."_ Gustav had a tendency to sound horribly smug at times. He'd admitted to her that he'd been in Slytherin in his day, though as a half-blood with very close ties to his muggleborn father he seemed to have no troubles accepting her. He'd gotten his skill at dueling defending his reputation against his house mates and took no small amount of pride in relating that they had learned to respect, and even fear, him by the time he'd reached his fifth year.

_"Now, I think we can risk changing things up a bit."_ She frowned, but listened. _"I believe we need to get you to where you can think and switch targets automatically. To do that, we'll need to randomize the dummies. They're hinged in the middle to pop up, so it should be possible."_

Hermione gave a sigh that was directed upwards so that it blew an errant curl out of her eyes. "Right. Magical whack-a-mole."

_"Pardon?"_

"It's nothing. Muggle reference." She flexed her shoulders, holding her wands down at her sides and centering herself. "All right. I'm ready."

She almost was. The newly added dimension shook things up a bit. She quickly realized that her aim had gotten better because she had grown accustomed to the targets remaining stationary and had fallen into a pattern. With the added difficulty of not knowing which target would pop up next she was shaken out of her comfort zone and her aim was off again, though not by as much as before.

Hex. Turn. Hex. Shield. Spin. Hex. Hex. Pivot. Shield-Hex-Spin-Curse-Jinx-

"Bloody Hell, Granger!"

She gave a yelp and turned, stopping in a tensed pose with one wand at the ready and the other slightly above and behind her, parallel with the floor. Cedric Diggory was standing a few feet inside the door, dressed in his warm-up gear and gaping at her circle of hinged practice targets.

_"You should have at least sent off a jinx in his direction. He could have been an enemy!"_

She ignored Gustav. "Hi… Cedric." She lowered her wands, a bit embarrassed at having just now thought about them. "Uhm… what are you doing here?"

"I knew you came up here about this time, so I came up to see if you'd like to practice together. Thought you might help me keep up with my training and teach me a few things." He swallowed and looked… scared? "Where… where did you learn that?"

She blinked. "I… well… I got the idea from you, actually."

"Me?" He seemed confused. She nodded.

"Last year, after you watched me practice. You mentioned something about using two wands and… well… I sort of came up with this." With a good deal of help and prodding from a few friends.

He seemed to be going through memories in his mind and came across the right one. "I'd forgotten about that, but I didn't think you'd actually try anything." His eyes fell to the wands. "May I see those?" She nodded and met him half-way, extending the walnut wand out for his inspection. He took it gingerly, turning it over in one hand with an expression of wonder. "A double ended wand. I've never heard of anything like this before."

"Mr. Ollivander helped me come up with them." It was true, of course. Still, she felt a bit nervous. "Look, Cedric, I don't mind you knowing. I mean, I trust you, and it was your idea that got me started. Only… I don't think I want anyone else to know. I just…" She trailed off, not really knowing what kind of excuse she could give to explain why she didn't want anyone to know.

Cedric, however, seemed to understand. "I can see that, but you should at least consider telling Professor Flitwick. I know he doesn't look it, but he was a dueling champion in his early years. You should probably have some faculty member supervising you for safety reasons if nothing else." He handed her wand back to her. "I… should get going."

Hermione felt sick. He was scared! He was afraid of her! Her wand felt oddly heavy when she took it back, but she knew it was all mental. "Cedric, I'm still me. I'm still just… Hermione."

He blushed a bit, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I know. It's just…" He paused and took a breath. "You're a fourth year, and I'm pretty sure you've just shown that you can likely trounce the entire seventh-year class. Or you'll be able to. That's a bit much to take on at once." He gave her a somewhat apologetic smile. "I… just need a bit of time."

The bottom dropped out of her stomach and she felt as though she might want to cry. "Sure. I understand." Not really, but it was just what you said in times like these. She gave Cedric a somewhat tremulous smile as he turned and walked back out.

She kept her feelings bottled up until two days later when Kathryn finally decided to grace her with her presence. _"It was horrible!"_

_"You scared the boy, Hermione. Guys don't like finding out a girl is tougher than they are. Pricks at their pride."_

_"But he already knew I could fight. He's seen me."_

_"And what did he do? He started learning it himself, though that could just have easily been to get an excuse to wrestle with you as anything else. I got the impression that he's the playful kind."_ She rolled her eyes and kicked at a rock near her foot. _"I wouldn't worry about it, Hermione. Cedric seems like a good person and I've been asking around about these different houses and such. If he's true to the edicts and manners of his house he'll come back around."_

She sighed. She didn't even know why she was letting this get to her. Cedric was two years ahead of her and in an entirely different house. It wasn't as though they were very close, though he had been friendly to her at the Cup and he did help her avoid the Slytherins last year.

Kathryn gave a snort. _"Not to mention he's absolutely delicious. Nice bum and a great smile if you can get your eyes above his waist."_

_"You are the biggest pervert I've ever met."_

_"Only because I don't censor my language around you. I'm sure you've met bigger."_

She was about to deny it when she stopped, frowning at the grassy patch beneath her feet. Something was… off. Tilting her head to one side, she stared at it in contemplation. She felt Kathryn seem to hold back as though waiting for her to do something.

Crouching down, she placed a hand on the bit of earth. Though she knew that it was warm, kissed by the sunlight from above, it struck her as being cold. Abnormally so as it was her sense of perception being at odds with her sense of touch. It made no sense… unless…

_"Hello? Is someone… down there?"_

The answer came in a mental voice that was strong and tinged with a bit of humor. _"I should say so? I most definitely am a someone."_

She hadn't really expected an answer, but somehow she wasn't surprised. _"What are you doing down there? I mean, I didn't think there was anyone actually buried on the grounds except for a few old headmasters, and they're all clearly marked."_

_"True. True. But I wasn't buried on the grounds. They stuck me under in Hogsmede. All of us are from there."_

Hermione frowned. All of them? She looked around the grounds as if she should be able to see little mounds of earth and grass. Frowning still, she closed her eyes and sort of 'reached out'. A gasp escaped her and her eyes popped open. All about her, all tucked under the soil of the manicured lawn and reaching out to where the rocky hill sides lead down fro the castle were… bodies. No graves or coffins, but bodies. Hundreds of them from what she could tell. _"What are you all doing here? How did you get here?"_

The voice laughed, but it was out of amusement. _"We were asked to come here, Dear Girl. A long time ago. We were told that there was going to be a rather annoying idiot rearing his ugly head, threatening the school and the world in which our descendants are living. So, we volunteered to move up here and be ready to defend Hogwarts when needed."_

This made no sense! Dead bodies didn't move!

_"But they can move, Hermione, if the reason is strong enough for them to do so."_ Kathryn sounded amused by her confusion. _"I've asked for it to be done before, as did my father. And they just got up if my grandfather needed them whether he wanted them to or not. They say that when my father locked up my grandfather's Dedaspeak, corpses got up from the cemetery near his house and spelled out messages in rocks in his back garden."_

Hermione blanched. "That's dreadful!" She covered her mouth quickly, looking about and grateful no one was nearby to have heard her. The voice underground laughed.

_"You are young yet, Dear, but you'll understand in time. Now, if you will excuse me, I'm not quite where I need to be, yet. It's been a long trip and the ground between the village and here has been hard to get through."_

_"How long have you been at it?"_

_"Oh, decades, Child. We all have."_

Hermione swallowed and suppressed a shudder. This was all too creepy. No longer worried over Cedric she turned and walked back towards the castle, eyes on the floor as she walked, her mind spinning. She came up short, however, when Dumbledore's voice cut through her thoughts. "Did you have a nice chat with your friends in the yard, Miss Granger?"

She gaped at him. "I'm sorry?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "We found one by accident about ten years ago when they were digging a new flower bed. Took us all quite by surprise, finding a body on the grounds. Had one of the ghosts not advised me of what was happening I might have been concerned. We had to return him to the cemetery in Hogsmede, of course, but as the others were unknown to anyone save myself and the ghosts, I left them as they were. Of course, we haven't put in any new flower beds."

"You… the ghosts told you, Headmaster?" She felt scared and suddenly very exposed. "How… how did you guess?"

His smile was barely visible through his beard. "I've known from the beginning, Miss Granger, although I didn't know how you were to come about learning of your unusual gifts. The bit of arithmancy was quite clever. Once I realized what had happened, however, I felt it better to let you and your mother… acclimate to one another."

"Oh." She didn't know what to do with her hands, so she kept them in her pockets. Kathryn was watching them warily. She'd gotten very good at sensing her mother's emotions. "Have… you told him?"

"You mean Professor Snape? No, My Dear. It's your secret to tell, not mine. However, I had hoped you would come to me yourself rather than try to take on this burden alone. I understand that what you are going through is unique, but I am here to support and help my students to the best of my abilities."

She blushed, feeling somewhat ashamed at not having told him. "Sorry, Sir. It's just… I didn't want to get into trouble. I know the magical world frowns on people like me."

"No, Miss Granger, it frowns on necro_mancers_. I dare say that we have never encountered anyone like yourself. Although, for your safety, I think it best not to tell too many about your peculiar talents. I don't think you would like being under a magnifying glass while they try to figure you out."

"No, I don't think I'd like that at all."

Dumbledore nodded and gave her another smile. "Now, I believe it's time for dinner and I could use a clever escort to the Great Hall. Plays up on my vanity, you know." He chuckled and she relaxed a little, falling into step beside him.

"So… you're really not mad? And I promise I won't cheat at my lessons! I'll earn my marks on my own!"

"I would never expect any less of you. I'm certain that in certain things, such as Dark Arts, you'll know a bit more out of necessity, but I have no doubt that you will take your exams under your own power. And, of course, there is your wand practice." She blushed scarlet. "Yes, I know about that as well, and your Mr. Diggory is right in suggesting that you at least have a faculty member supervising you for your own safety. However, I think that perhaps I should fill that role given that I suspect you will be bringing other talents into play soon. Skills that we would not want certain individuals learning about."

She completely missed that 'your' in front of Cedric's name. "Like what, Sir?"

He looked over at her, eyes still twinkling behind his glasses. "Like those that might be seen as a possible risk to security. Which reminds me, if you plan any unsanctioned visits into Muggle London this year, please see if you can pick me up some new socks. I never can find time to shop for them on my own and some of mine are wearing a bit thin. And some sherbet lemons if you run across any. Honeydukes doesn't carry them."

She tripped, but caught herself. He knew about that? She would have said something, but they had gotten too close to other students making their way into the Great Hall. The headmaster parted ways with her after reaching her house table so that she could join her classmates for the evening meal.

Hermione's mind went over the conversation, still a bit numb from the shock. Kathryn probably summed up her feeling on the matter the best.

_"Well fuck."_


	15. Chapter 15

_May 27th, 1978_

"No?"

Geoffrey Trout looked up from the file on his desk and gave the woman before him a cool, appraising look. "That is my answer, St. James. No."

Kathryn leaned forward, placing her fingertips onto the polished surface of his desk. He glanced down at them briefly, confirming they were empty. She had an annoying habit of bypassing security when coming in simply so she could keep some weapon or another on her person. Not that she needed them, of course. Kathryn had other ways to rid herself of an opponent. She just preferred to do it manually. "I believe you wish to rethink that decision, Trout."

"No, I don't think that I do." He leaned back in his desk, folding his arms over his chest. "I will not have our operations here jeopardized, which is exactly what would happen if we go poking our noses into their business."

"Do you honestly think they don't know about people like us already? They do! Hiding your head in the sand isn't going to change that."

"There is no proof of how much they know."

"You want me to find out for you? I've learned where the greatest concentrations of them live, and they bury their dead just like everyone else. I can have a full report for you in under an hour." Her voice dripped with derision.

He had no doubt she could learn just how much the wizards knew about the ESPers. She probably already knew. It would be a simple matter of scanning her thoughts, but he'd done that before and had found it distasteful. There were other things inside her mind besides her own thoughts. Cold, alien things. Dead things. "Kathryn, my decision is final. I will not approve you to put together a team to search for the necromancer. We will not get involved in this war."

"Fine." She straightened up, letting her hands fall to her sides. The motion made her long duster billow briefly and he caught a flash of polished metal. She did love her sai. "I'll do it myself, then."

"No, you won't."

She gave a snort. "And who's going to stop me? You?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Kathryn, I am still in charge of this facility and I still call the shots." He rose from his desk, taking the fingertip pose she had held a moment ago. "You will _not_ disobey me on this. As long as you are a member of this organization you will follow _my_ rules."

The moment the words had left his mouth, he knew he'd gone too far. Kathryn was not some telepath huddling inside E-Branch for protection from the pressing throng of minds outside or some telekinetic in search of balance to keep her from blowing up things at random. Kathryn St. James didn't struggle to understand her abilities; she had mastered them before she'd entered puberty. And she didn't need them; they needed her.

He watched in silence as she reached into an inside pocket of her duster and pulled out her E-Branch security badge. "Talk to you later, Trout. Preferably after you're dead and cold. Something tells me it will do wonders for your personality." Without another word she dropped the badge on his desk, turned on her heel and walked out of his office.

* * *

Hermione was starving. If the delegates from Beauxbaton and Durmstrang didn't arrive soon she just might have to resort to patting down Ron for one of the chocolate frogs she knew he was hiding on him somewhere. And she was freezing! She was starving and freezing! This was simply too much to tolerate.

Although, she did welcome the unexpected break from her training. Professor Dumbledore had sent her a message that, due to their guests arriving this evening, they would not be meeting for her wand work. He also reminded her that attendance for the arrival of their guests was mandatory and thus she should not do her physical training.

Thus, instead of being distracted from her stomach, she was starving. By the time they got around to having dinner her table manners would have devolved into something akin to Ron's.

_"So how much longer do we have to wait? I'm getting tired of your complaining."_

_"Then go spy on someone."_

_"Who? All the interesting people are out here. Oh, look, it's Cedric."_ Hermione's eyes were drawn unwillingly to the Hufflepuff students where Cedric was helping keep the younger ones in line. They were getting quite restless. _"Hmmm… he's a bit too good at that."_

_"At what?"_

_"Managing kids. That's a clear sign of a breeder. I think we're well shut of him. A man like that will likely get a girl with as many kids as the Weasleys. We'll find you some well-endowed rogue to play with. No need for the first one to be serious at any rate."_

She was certain her face had turned eight different shades of red. Harry must have seen it do so. "You all right, Hermione?"

"Fine." She said it a bit too quickly. _ "I hate you."_

_"All teenage girls hate their mothers. It's instinctual."_

Someone cried out and pointed upwards. All eyes and heads craned up to see a small dot that got larger and larger as it drew closer. Hagrid waved in a massive carriage that was as bigger than some houses she'd seen, drawn by a team of gigantic winged horses. She was impressed. They all were.

If the carriage and horses weren't enough, Madam Maxime was definitely someone to notice. She was bigger than Hagrid from the look of her, and her massive form shadowed her students who all looked impossibly small next to her. Kathryn, of course, had a different response from the Hogwarts students. _"About damn time Hagrid got lucky. He's a decent enough sort."_

Hermione began to dread what the dead woman might say about the Durmstrang students when they arrived.

Everyone was watching the skies until someone noticed the whirlpool that had formed in the lake. Mesmerized, all stood and watched as a giant, hulking ship emerged from the water and glided to the shore. Shadowy figures moved past lit portholes and onto the deck before coming down the gangplank. Hermione looked on with the same unabashed curiosity as she studied the new arrivals. Where the Beauxbaton students had been clad in blue uniforms that had made even the boys seem to move with an elegant grace, the students of Durmstrang looked surprisingly fierce in their furs and cloaks.

_"I don't like that headmaster. There's something fishy about him."_

Hermione rather thought the same. The man's teeth were almost as bad as Severus and he had an 'oily' feel about him. _"We shouldn't judge by looks alone. He might be quite nice."_

_"Somehow I seriously doubt that."_

Hermione didn't respond because she was too busy being jostled by Ron who had just realized that one of the Durmstrang students was his idol Viktor Krum. "For Heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player!"

Ron acted as though she'd slapped him. She could almost feel Kathryn double over in laughter. _"Oh, you're in for it now! Never insult a man's sports idol. For that matter, never insult a man's sport. They're right stupid about it."_

_"Right stupid sums up Ron and Harry when it comes to Quidditch, all right."_

And finally they could go back inside! The castle was lovely and warm after standing outside for so long. The Great Hall had been done up to the nines, looking even better than the Welcoming Feast. Hermione sat with Harry and Ron as usual but might as well have been invisible. Ron was too busy looking at Krum and hoping he'd come join their table. He even went so far as to tell Hermione to budge up. The nerve!

Still, just as it looked as though Krum was going to sit next to Draco Malfoy, his eyes landed on their table. More specifically they landed on her. He frowned a bit, as if trying to remember something that eventually did come to him. He leaned over to one of the other Durmstrang boys next to him, pointing in her direction while they spoke. Then, to her surprise, they appeared to have changed their minds about sitting with the Slytherins and came round to their table.

Ron was ecstatic. Harry gave a snort. "Of course, Ron. Krum met Hermione at the World Cup. He knows she can understand him."

Ron turned a blinding smile to her. "Did I ever tell you that I absolutely adore your brains? I really do!" He was still smiling as he scooted over a bit to make room for Krum and his friend. Since Krum already knew her, he took the seat right next to her, his friend between him and Ron.

He gave her a somewhat shy smile and spoke to her in Bulgarian. **"I hope you do not mind if we sit here. My accent makes my English hard to understand."**

She shook her head but was internally kicking herself again for showing off at the Cup. **"We don't mind. We want you to feel welcomed here."** She introduced Harry and Ron as well as several of the other students nearby. There was a buzzing about the hall and she knew that a good number of students were wondering how she, Hermione Granger, came to be sitting next to the World Famous Viktor Krum.

Of course, acting as interpreter meant she didn't get through much of her meal while it was still hot. Krum seemed to notice this and looked abashed. He apologized and made her a quiet promise to keep the rest of the students from his school from bothering her too much. It was the first time she thought about the fact that word that there was at least one student at Hogwarts they could speak to without feeling like idiots was likely to get out.

With the meal done all eyes turned to Dumbledore as he called for their attention. Mr. Crouch was on hand to give them the rules of the Tournament. It was the first time anyone at Hogwarts had been told about the age restriction, though it was clear that the other schools knew about it and had brought only those students old enough to put in their names.

Actually, she thought the age restriction was a brilliant idea. She still didn't think that the tourney was all that great an idea. She'd done more reading on it and the more she'd learned the less she liked it. There were some very good students at Hogwarts, but they were still just students.

_"Don't sell them short, Hermione. You'd be surprised what people can do if they really want to succeed."_

Still, something didn't feel right to her. Hermione watched as the Goblet of Fire was removed from its casket for all to see. Eternal glory indeed. What use was that to anyone?

* * *

"You want to find who?"

Michael sighed and slumped down in his chair. "Trout, and I don't particularly want to find the bastard. I just want to know where he is."

Evangeline Stroud, the current head of E-Branch, gave him a speculative look. "I know you, Michael. You wouldn't be asking if you didn't have a feeling that something's going to blow up in our faces."

"A feeling is all I've got. You know the dreams are shaky at best."

"But they often point you in the right direction. And Trout… well… we could put some of the stronger clairvoyants or precognitives on it. See if they can get a sense of any plots." Turner didn't look overly enthusiastic about that idea. "What have you done?"

"What makes you think I've done anything?"

Stroud arched a brow at him. "I'm an empath, remember? And right now you're feeling guilt and worry. Mostly guilt. That means you've done something to be guilty about. It's not like you, Michael. You're the straightest arrow we've got."

"Well, thing is, I'll have to admit to some rather dodgy behavior."

"How dodgy?"

"The kind you get sacked over." He shrugged. "See why I don't want to say?"

Evangeline mulled it over in her mind for a bit. "All right. I'll grant you complete immunity starting today and going for a full fourteen days. Anything you tell me within that time frame will not go on your record nor will it get you sacked unless you tell me you've murdered someone, for which I will turn you in. In exchange, you do not get to delete any memory of anything you might say unless it's something I specifically request you delete. Good enough?"

If anyone else had said it to him, he'd turn them down. However, Stroud was a straight shooter and he trusted her implicitly. E-Branch had become a better place to work since she'd replaced Trout. The ESPers were no longer treated as tools or things, but rather as people. And the days where it was common practice to stab one another in the back to get ahead were gone, the last few remaining dinosaurs from that era now leashed. "Only for you, Evie."

"Good." She leaned back in her chair. "So, what's the big secret you think might bring that piece of shite back to haunt us?"

"St. James' kid is alive and well, and I suspect might have taken after the rest of the family."

She froze, mouth agape. "What?" It was a cracked whisper and she forced a cough to clear her throat. "A Keogh? You think there's actually an active Keogh out there?"

"I think it's a fair possibility."

"But… surely we would have noticed something. Felt something. They're rather hard to miss when they get going. The oddness of them…"

"Well, the thing is Kathryn locked her up when she was born. Like what her father did to her grandfather."

Evangeline flinched. "Why the bloody hell would she do something like that?"

"To hide her from Trout. She got knocked up by one of those wizard types, you see. And, well, the kid's as much her father's child as she is her mother's."

Stroud's face went a pasty white. "Oh bloody hell."

"That's sort of what Trout thought, too."

"But you think the girl's unlocked now? How would she have managed that without Kathryn? Unless Kathryn had something to do with it."

Turner nodded. "She did. Took the binding off directly. Easy for her to do considering… well… the thing is that St. James is dead, Evie. She had no choice but to bring the kid into the family, so to speak, but she won't say how she died. That's why I want to find Geoffrey. I think he might have had something to do with it."


	16. Chapter 16

_"I thought they'd fixed it so this wouldn't happen."_

_"They did."_ Hermione felt as though something was constricting her chest as she lay in her bed, staring up at the canopy above. _"They did fix it."_

_"I wonder how he got past it, then."_

_"He didn't. Didn't you see his reaction? He was as shocked as everyone else. Oh God, this is awful! He can't do this! He isn't ready!" _She ran a hand over her eyes, forcing herself to breathe. _"It has to be a prank of some kind. Someone must have been trying to prank him, but this is a horrible idea!"_

_"Probably one of Severus' trogs. This is the kind of thing they'd think was funny; setting a kid up to be maimed or worse. How could they possibly hold him to that 'contract' of theirs? I would have thought only a parent or legal guardian would be able to do it for him and it stick. What kind of messed up world do you live in?"_

_"The magical kind. What are we going to do?"_ She meant 'we' as in she and the boys, of course. They were more of a unit than many realized, even if her relationship with them was under the strain of her absence and personal secrets.

_"You'll get him through this, is what you'll do. If there was a way to switch and put you in Harry's place we'd do that. I have no doubt that you could handle anything thrown at the champions, although it might blow your cover. Barring that, you can do what you can to help him prepare for these tasks, whatever they are."_

She rolled over onto her side, staring at the far wall. It was all she could do, unfortunately. She bloody well hated feeling like this. _"I wish I knew who had put his name in that goblet. Sometimes it feels as though I need to be everywhere at once just so I know what's going on. If I did, someone could have stopped this!"_

_"You _do_ realize that you have a source of information that you repeatedly fail to tap into, right?"_

She gave a derisive snort. _"I don't think the people out under the lawn can see what's going on inside the school."_

_"And what about the ghosts, Hermione? This school has a veritable army of mobile, deceased residents and you've all but ignored them. Don't you realize that they can sense who and what you are? They're only waiting for you to deign to give them the time of day."_ It was a scolding, though a mild one. For some reason Hermione suddenly felt somewhat guilty. How could she have not considered the fact that the ghosts were, indeed, dead?

_"I don't mean to ignore them. It's just…"_

_"You can't ignore what you are, Hermione. They wouldn't let you even if you tried. It's past time you patched things with the ghosts before you bruise their feelings too greatly. They may be loyal to the school, but I think you'll find that they want to be loyal to you even more."_

* * *

Cedric was glad to be done with the weighing and that Skeeter woman. She was downright scary! And the flash of that camera her lapdog used was going to leave him permanently blind if he didn't escape.

"One moment, if you please, Mr. Diggory."

He stopped and turned to the Headmaster with a look of polite inquiry. Dumbledore drew closer with Mr. Ollivander at his side. "Yes, Professor?"

"I'd like you to come with us. Mr. Ollivander has a final piece of business to see to and we require your assistance."

Puzzled, Cedric nodded and walked with the two elder wizards. Ollivander and Dumbledore spoke together in low voices that wouldn't carry past the three of them. "I've been observing her progress myself, and I believe you will be surprised with the results. However, I don't think I need to explain myself when I stress that this should be kept quiet. I trust Mr. Diggory to be discreet, but I think it best if we avoid shedding too much light on her just yet."

Mr. Ollivander nodded fervently. "Of course. I understand completely. I, myself, would like more testing to be done before I add them to my shop at any rate."

Cedric got a sinking feeling he knew where they were going. Sure enough, they made it to the seventh floor. Professor Dumbledore had him call up the room Hermione used while he continued to talk with Mr. Ollivander, this time about the different champions. The door appeared and he held it open for the older man, following behind them.

Hermione was already there. She'd shed her school robes for a pair of muggle jeans and a t-shirt. Thank goodness she hadn't worn one of those workout suits she liked to use. The sight of so much bare skin might have given the two wizards a heart attack! He watched as she gave a nervous smile and nod to the Headmaster and to Mr. Ollivander and returned the smile she gave him with just as much nervousness.

"Now, Miss Granger, as you know Mr. Ollivander wanted to see a demonstration to see how you're use of the double wands is progressing. It comes to mind that the best way to do so would be to have a friendly duel. Since you've been training with multiple targets, I've asked Mr. Diggory to join us to assist."

He couldn't have heard that right. "You want me to hex Hermione?" Mr. Ollivander looked as though he were looking forward to the show. The Headmaster turned a gentle smile towards Diggory.

"Nothing permanent or vicious, of course. We just need to put her through her paces. When you're ready, Miss Granger."

Hermione moved to the center of the room as Mr. Ollivander claimed a comfortable looking chair off to one side. Cedric put his books down by the wall so they'd be out of the way and got his wand out. Dumbledore had moved around to stand on the opposite side, his own wand in his hand. "Now, Miss Granger, remember that this is just a friendly demonstration. Neither myself nor Mr. Diggory wish you any true harm."

She nodded and Cedric saw her thumbs flex over the center pieces of her wands. "Yes, Sir." Then she crossed her wands in front of her and gave a nod, a modified version of the opening salute for a duel, before she moved one foot back into a readied stance, one wand held before her and the other extended behind.

Cedric remained at the ready, waiting for a move. The first did not come from Hermione, but from the Headmaster. She blocked his jinx to the front and Cedric noticed that she mimicked the shield charm behind her with the second wand, effectively stopping any jinx he might have sent her way. Before he could think about how he needed to move more quickly she'd fired off a counter-jinx at the Headmaster.

Shaking himself out of his confusion, Cedric joined the duel. He and the headmaster hurled jinxes and hexes at Hermione and seemed to be deflecting just as many as they cast. She was an incredibly hard target to hit as she was incorporating many of the moves he'd seen her use in her physical training, her body twisting and turning this way and that. He saw the Headmaster abandon his standing position to start to move about and he followed suit, searching for an opening in her defenses.

She'd gotten very good at handling the wands. No sooner than she had cast a spell with one end she would give a flick of her wrist and bring up the other to cast again. Later, after the duel was over and he'd had time to think about it, it would dawn on Cedric that likely she was using two cores in each one, with one better suited to defensive spells and the other more comfortable with offense magic. For now, however, he was more concerned with keeping up with her and had barely realized that Mr. Ollivander had joined the battle.

Spinning, hexing and blocking, Hermione did her best to keep up with all three wizards. The practice dummies didn't fight back and her current opponents were able to think and choose on their own, making this a true test of her abilities. Cedric barely missed dodging a hex from Ollivander when it missed Hermione because she had spun out of the way. Straightening back up he sent a hex towards the witch.

Hermione suddenly crossed her wands above her head. Bursts of light came out of each wand tip in such rapid succession that they looked as though they were cast at once. Four shield spells, converging and merging until she was in a bubble that glowed faintly with magic. It swelled out, knocking Cedric and Mr. Ollivander off their feet and pushing Dumbledore back firmly.

The headmaster gave a chuckle. "And that, I believe, is as much as Miss Granger is willing to tolerate today." He gave her a bow as Mr. Ollivander got to his feet. The wandmaker laughed in delight, applauding loudly. The sound made Cedric remember he too was sprawled on the floor. Blushing, he got back to his feet.

"Well done, Miss Granger, so very well done!" Mr. Ollivander captured one of Hermione's hands in both of his own and gripped it firmly. "Far better than I had anticipated."

The girl fidgeted uncomfortably under the praise. "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander, but your wands…"

"Ah… _our_ wands, Miss Granger. After all, you came up with the design. I merely turned your idea into physical form. And even with that, it is _your_ skill that allows them to be used so well."

Cedric gaped. _Hermione_ had designed the wands? He hadn't known that she had aspirations of being a wandmaker. Not that he doubted she had the brains, of course, because everyone knew that she was brilliant. The profession just seemed a bit behind-the-scenes for Hermione Granger.

"It is, I believe, a good start." Dumbledore winked at the Gryffindor. "I think that Miss Granger feels that there is still room for improvement and is pushing herself quite diligently. We can only hope that she remembers to take some time for herself now and again." He moved towards Mr. Ollivander. "Let's leave the young people to catch their breath and tidy up a bit. Dueling with this pair has given me a bit of a thirst and I have an excellent brandy that I would like to open."

The two men left, leaving Cedric with Hermione. They stood in awkward silence for a time, neither knowing where to begin. Screwing up his courage, he gave it a shot. "Impressive work, Hermione. You really gave us a challenge."

She blushed. "I'm just glad that there were only three of you. I stopped it because I could feel myself getting tired. I'm still a bit slow."

He blinked at her. "Slow? You're using four wands at once! I don't even know how you manage to keep your spells straight. And after we started circling you…" He dropped off, running a hand through his hair. "I… I'm sorry."

She frowned. "For what?"

Cedric gave a shrug. "Being a prat, I suppose. I mean, I know you're still the same girl from last year. I shouldn't have let the wand thing get to me like I did." It sounded even worse when said out loud, and he winced. "It's true, what they say about you."

Hermione tilted her head to one side. "What do they say?"

"That you're brilliant, but a bit scary at times. You are a little intimidating." He felt like he should apologize.

She scoffed at the idea. "I'm not the bogey man or anything. Besides, I'm just a fourth year."

Now it was his turn to scoff. "A fourth year who could probably pass her OWLS with her eyes shut right now. Did you know that the Ravenclaw Prefects petitioned the Headmaster to have you resorted last year?"

She blinked. "They what?"

"They wanted you resorted. I don't think it's ever sat very well with them that you were put into Gryffindor. They feel that the Sorting Hat made a mistake." He saw her fidget and blush slightly before she walked over to put her wands away inside a velvet lined box. "I wish I had your skill with those. Could come in handy with this tournament. Maybe you should have been in it."

She closed the lid and turned around to face him. "Cedric, you know Harry didn't put his name in that cup, right?" Her expression was earnest and he found himself looking away under her gaze. "He _didn't_, Cedric. He _wouldn't_. Harry doesn't want 'eternal glory' and he certainly doesn't want any more attention than he already has. He just wants to be normal! Well, as normal as a wizard can be, I suppose."

He looked back at her to see that she was still staring at him intently. She believed what she was saying; he could see that she did. And, if he thought about it for a moment, so did he. He'd seen Harry in the halls since the night his name came out of the goblet and he didn't look at all enthusiastic about being in the tournament. If anything, he looked a bit green about the gills.

Cedric looked back down at the floor. "I'll… talk to them about the badges. See if I can't make them stop wearing them."

"Harry doesn't care about the badges, Cedric."

"I do. I know my house wears them out of loyalty to me, but… well… it's beneath us. We should behave better."

"Oh. Well, it is more of a Slytherin thing to do."

He nodded. "Exactly." Or for Merlin's sake! She was just another girl! Two years his junior, even! He made himself look up. "I miss you, Granger." She gave him a confused look and he wanted to kick himself. "That is, I miss having a study partner who actually lets me study and isn't yammering on about one thing or another."

She gave him a lopsided smile. "I know what you mean. Harry and Ron are hopeless when it comes to studying. I can't do it in the Common Room because they always end up playing exploding snap or chess and when I take them to the library they just whine and complain the whole time. Not that anyone can study in the library of late. Not with all the Krummies."

He frowned. "The Krummies?"

She rolled her eyes. "Viktor Krum's fan club. They follow him _everywhere_."

* * *

Harry had slipped out to meet with Hagrid, leaving Hermione with only Crookshanks and Ron, who was behaving like an even bigger prat than he had been since the night Harry's name had been spat out by that damn goblet. She hated it when there was a rift between two of them. Having Harry and Ron against one another was every bit as painful as when one or both of them were sore with her.

She made her way up to the fourth-year girls' dormitory, leaving Lavender and Parvati down in the Common Room and stealing a bit of peace and quiet. It didn't last for very long, however, before she was interrupted by an irate screech only heard by her.

_"Get out here! Get the fuck over here right now!"_

She gave a startled jump, blinking as her eyes adjusted from the words on the page of the book on her bed before her to the relative openness of the room. "Sorry?"

_"Get out here! Come outside to where I am!"_She glanced to the door to make certain no one was coming in before scrambling off the bed to slip on her shoes.

The equations were almost second nature to her now. Opening the 'doors' to get into the Continuum was the same each time. The changes came in getting back out, and even those were usually subtle, dictated by how far of a distance she was traveling. She also had learned to pay attention to the seemingly countless number of 'threads' that represented people and creatures, past and present. By minding them she was able to tell when someone was going to be too close for her to 'pop out' and she avoided several before she exited the Continuum into the forest.

_"What's gone and yanked your…"_ A great plume of fire shot up from a space off to her left. Hermione ducked behind a thick tree for cover and peered around it to get a look, eyes wide.

_"Tell me those are _**_not_**_ what they look like!"_

Hermione swallowed, hardly daring to believe her eyes. "D… dragons." She shook her head to clear it and checked around to make certain she wasn't visible to anyone. _"They've brought in _**_dragons_**_?"_

Four of the massive beasts were there, one for each champion. Hermione recognized Charlie Weasley as he stood by a massive form that could only be Hagrid, likely discussing the creatures. _"They can't be serious!"_

_"That's it! I've had enough! You're dropping out and going to a _**_real_**_ school! One that doesn't think it's all right to pit teenagers against things like _**_that_**_."_

Harry was out here somewhere, Hermione knew it._"This is why Hagrid wanted Harry to come out under the cloak. He wanted to show him the dragons. It's _**_cheating_**_ of course…"_

_"He's in good company, then. That Karkaroff git it out here, too, and Hagrid brought Maxime. Krum and that French Fairy will both know what's coming. Someone will need to put a bug in Cedric's ear to even the playing field. Then we'll grab Harry and drag him out of here. A nice boarding school in Switzerland should do it. I'd suggest snagging Ron, too, but his mother would kill you."_

Hermione rolled her eyes, the initial shock of the moment wearing off. _"I'm not dropping out of Hogwarts. It's not like I have to face the dragons. We'll just have to help Harry figure out how to get past them is all."_

_"Dragons and trolls and God only knows what else. I'm beginning to understand _**_why_**_ we ignored wizards for the most part. You people are completely psychotic!"_

Hermione fought back a snort. _"Look who's talking. You'd better watch yourself, Kathryn. Keep screeching like an enraged mum and you're likely to loose your reputation of being a first class bitch."_

_"While I'm delighted that you're finally learning to swear properly, you can bloody well bugger off!"_


	17. Chapter 17

She landed on the floor with a loud thump followed by a moan of discomfort. She felt just as clumsy and uncoordinated as she had when she'd first started her training last year. This was embarrassing.

"Perhaps that is enough for today, Miss Granger."

She looked up at the headmaster from her place on the floor. Yes it was cold and hard, but she really wasn't in the mood to get up just yet. "This is positively barmy." He offered her a hand up and she accepted it with a sigh.

"If I may ask, what is it you are trying to accomplish?"

Hermione pushed an errant lock of hair out of her eyes. "Combining the physical dodging and leaping with teleportation through the Continuum. The theory is that it would make it harder for my opponent to anticipate where I'm going to be in the next second." She sighed. "As the bruises will show, I'm having a bit of trouble with my exits."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled from behind his glasses as he looked at her down his long, crooked nose. "Patience, Miss Granger. It will click into place in time, though I have to wonder if part of your problem doesn't stem from being distracted by other matters." He motioned for her to have a seat and conjured a cool poultice to apply to the spot on her forearm that was already beginning to darken and swell. "I take it that you are aware of the first task and what it entails."

She felt more than a little guilty. "Yes, Headmaster. But, honestly, _dragons?_ The champions are still just _students_, even if three of them are 'of age'. They're still teenagers! Charlie Weasley was in his early twenties at least."

He nodded in understanding. "I agree, Miss Granger, and I will admit that I am not entirely comfortable with the inclusion of dragons into the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Unfortunately I was out voted on the subject. The Departments of Magical Games and Sports and International Cooperation were the ones who ultimately decided what the three tasks would be."

Hermione gave a derisive snort. "That explains it. Only government bodies would be this stupid."

Dumbledore gave a chuckle that ruffled his beard slightly. "I do believe that you might be adopting some of your biological parents' less amicable traits, Miss Granger. You sounded very much like Severus just now." She grimaced. "Now don't be that way, Miss Granger. Severus cares for you deeply even if he is poorly skilled at showing it."

"He was positively nasty to me for the first two years of my schooling."

"Is he still?"

"No. Now he just ignores me."

"And yet he delights in your every success. He did before, as well, Miss Granger. But, politics and standing being what they are, he could not show it. He would never admit it, of course, but he was quite impressed with you in your first year when you were able to solve his logic puzzle. The same holds true for when you successfully brewed polyjuice potion your second year. Many of his NEWT students have difficulty with that one." He looked out towards the motionless target dummies. "And I believe that young Mr. Malfoy is still serving detention over that hex of his."

She shifted a bit uncomfortably at the reminders of her more wild moments. "I'm trying, Headmaster. I really am. But I've always been a Granger. Mum and Dad are my parents. I know that Severus is, too, and that it's not his fault that he was never there, but it's difficult to equate him with being my father."

"And he knows this, Miss Granger. However I fear that there will soon come a time when you will be grateful for that blood connection between the two of you. You have felt first hand how harsh some in our world can be to those of Muggle birth. Bigotry in its purest form." He took the poultice from her arm and peered at it. "Now, I think perhaps you should run up and let Madam Pomfrey work her magic on this before you head down for supper. I believe there will be a few of our guests awaiting your presence."

* * *

She should do the entire world a favor and just smack both of them over their incredibly thick skulls.

Well, that was hardly fair. Right now it was only Ron who deserved to be smacked. Harry was mostly innocent.

Still, she _hated_ it when they weren't talking. Harry sat on one side of her while Ron sat on the other. Both of them steadfastly refused to speak to one another and kept trying to communicate through her rather than just working it out between them. Boys were so incredibly stupid at times. And, if Kathryn were to be believed, they would only get worse as they grew up.

She'd be lucky if she didn't end up killing them both out of frustration.

The morning post arrived as she was passing the pitcher of pumpkin juice from in front of Harry to Ron. The arrival of the _Daily Prophet_ took second chair to the parcel from her parents and she gave the post owl an extra fatty piece of bacon rind in thanks. Opening the package she found two new sweaters to help ward off the autumn chill, a thermal blanket for her bed and a sealed envelope that bore only the name Michael Turner for a return address. She debated with herself for a moment before tucking the envelope into her messenger bag, not wanting to read it at the table, as she wasn't certain what it might contain.

Besides, she'd promised Harry she would help him learn how to cast a proper summoning charm. His idea was a really good one and played to his strengths. She was glad Professor Moody had gotten him to think of it, because she'd been quite beside herself trying to figure out a solution. It also meant she would get to skive off her wand drills today, which would be a welcomed break. Between worrying about Harry, worrying about her classes and worrying about her training, she was under more stress now than she had ever been last year. She was starting to understand the temptation to cheat, because she knew that she could get all the answers just by asking the right expert.

But she didn't mind taking time to help Harry. She was feeling very charitable towards him at the moment because he had been decent enough to tell Cedric about the dragons. Diggory had mentioned it when they had managed to find time to do a bit of training. He had looked more than a bit scared at the idea of facing a dragon, and having seen them she knew he had every reason to be, but Harry's willingness to make everything as fair as possible had impressed him.

It took them hours of practice and recitation because the first task was the following afternoon. Had she not been driven on by concern for Harry she might have run out of patience, but in the end he finally got the hang of it. She even felt a little tickle in her heart that was most definitely pride in his accomplishment. He was quite clever when he applied himself. Now, if only Ron would stop being an idiot and patch things up he might have the extra lift he needed.

She sent Harry off to bed, knowing he'd need his rest for the upcoming day. She tried to sleep herself, but sleep refused to come. Defeated, she left her bed, pulled on her bathrobe and made her way down to the Common Room with the idea to catch up on a little reading. She pulled up short, however, when she saw a familiar face floating above one of the couches as though sitting and watching the fire. Suddenly, she didn't care to read any longer.

"Good evening, Sir Nicholas."

Nearly Headless Nick gave a little start and looked her way. He blinked in surprise before gracing her with a genuine smile. "Hermione, how lovely to see you. But isn't it a bit late for you to be up and about?"

She made her way over to the sitting area and perched herself onto the edge of one of the armchairs. "A bit late. I couldn't sleep."

"Oh? Not too much chatter, I hope. If it is, you should be firm with them and remind them that, as a warm and living girl, you do require your rest."

She felt her cheek colors. "No, nothing like that. Just… worried about Harry mostly."

The ghost nodded. "Yes, it is troubling. He is terribly young to be in this competition, but he has shown great skill in the past."

Hermione nodded in agreement. She looked down at her hands as her fingers worried the belt of her robe. "Sir Nicholas, I wanted to say… that is I was wanting to assure you and the others that I haven't meant any offense. I know that I haven't taken the time to actually speak with any of you since finding out… well… finding out about Kathryn and myself and everything. It's just… I suppose I'm just still having difficult wrapping my mind around it all."

Nicholas gave her a searching look, his expression quite deep. After a long, drawn out silence he began to speak. "We never thought you meant any slight, Hermione. This is a very stressful time for you, and we know that. Your mother knew about her abilities almost from the day she was born. By your age she had mastery over herself. But you… you first learned that you are a witch after growing up as a Muggle. Then, just as you become accustomed to being magical, this is thrust upon you as well." He smiled and reached over to pat her hand. She felt the cold of the ghost, but it didn't seem to bother her in the least, not like it did the other students. "I think the few muggleborn ghosts of Hogwarts can appreciate the first, but I don't think any of us can appreciate the second."

She sighed, still feeling awful. "I shouldn't have ignored you, Nicholas. I should have come to you first, since you're here in the school. It was rude of me not to once I became… well… what I am."

Sir Nicholas looked confused. "My Dear Hermione, you have _always_ been what you are. Your abilities were bound, not destroyed. We have always seen you for who you truly are, it was you who were ignorant of it."

She looked up, blinking at him. "You've always known? Always? Why didn't any of you say anything?"

"It wasn't our secret to tell. Besides, it would have done you little good and likely caused you pain, if not harm, had you tried to speak with anyone other than the ghosts. We are not the same as those in the grave; anyone can speak to us. But we've always known that the day would come when you would have to take up the mantle of that which you inherited from your birth mother. It has been your fate all along."

"I don't particularly believe in fate."

The ghost chuckled. "Quite all right, Hermione. Fate very much believes in you."

She found herself grinning just a little, and feeling quite a bit better. "So… you're _all_ okay? I mean if there's someone that I _have_ offended, I'd like to know who it is so I can apologize."

He waved off her concern. "You have nothing to apologize for, Hermione. We are only happy that you remember us. And we will make an effort not to crowd you so as not to draw any unwanted attention."

Hermione blinked. "I hadn't thought of that. I suppose it would seem out of place to have a few dozen ghosts following me about everywhere I go."

Nicholas gave a chuckle. "It would at that. But know that we are here for you, should you need someone to confide in or need some favor we can provide."

There was an obvious note of affection in the dead wizard's voice. She felt oddly comforted by it. "And_all_ the ghosts feel that way?"

"Even the Bloody Baron. You are too precious for us not to care for you."

She gave a sad smile. "I don't always feel precious." She let herself lean back in her chair, resting her head against one of the side wings. "Sometimes when I'm training I get the impression that Kathryn is trying to turn me into something I'm not. Like she's trying to forge me into some kind of… weapon." She glanced over and saw a note of disapproval on the ghost's face. "What?"

Nicholas made a sound like clearing his throat. "Far be it from any of us to speak ill of Kathryn. After all, we cared for her as well, and still do, but she was and is a hard woman. She allowed herself to forget that she was one of the living and, in the end; it kept her from showing any emotions except for anger and cruelty. Still, never doubt that she cared for you, Hermione. She has done a great deal for you and still is. With your birthright comes, I fear, a great many enemies. There are those who would want to control you, and not just the Dark Lord and his followers. You are young yet and do not fully grasp just how powerful you are becoming. She _is_ honing you into a weapon, but it is as much for your sake as it is for the sake of everyone else."

She didn't quite know what to make of that. Before she could inquire further, however, the ghost 'stood up'. "Now, you should hurry back to bed. Try to get some sleep. You won't be of much use to Mr. Potter if you're falling asleep in the stands instead of cheering." His expression was almost fatherly as he shuffled her back upstairs.

* * *

She had firmly told Kathryn that if she was going to screech like a bloody banshee she could go do it inside someone else's head. The spirit left in a huff, leaving her to holler and cheer with the rest of her class. Only she didn't feel much like cheering. She felt more like breaking down into tears.

Cedric had been first. It had been a clever bit of magic, transfiguring that rock into a dog. It had almost worked, too, but she cringed when he got nicked by dragon fire. Then Delacour who had actually done magic and not just charmed her way past the dragon using her good looks. Idly, Hermione scolded herself for being so catty. After that had been Krum with an excellently applied conjunctivitis curse. All three older students had managed to get their eggs. Now there was just Harry.

It crossed her mind that, had it been her name that had come out of the goblet, she could have just nipped into the Continuum and plucked the egg out from under the dragon. Of course, explaining how she's apparently apparated inside the Hogwarts grounds might have been tricky. It was too bad she couldn't give Harry his own class in Continuum Navigation 101. It might be a handy skill for him to have.

Harry looked impossibly small as he came out into the arena. Her hand shot out to grip Ron's sleeve without thinking. She couldn't hear the crowd for the hammering inside her ears. Her eyes were glued to her friend as she waited. She lost sight of him once as he dived out of the way and couldn't hear anything for the noise that surrounded her like a wall. Then something sailed into view so quickly she only caught the briefest glimpse of it. She knew what it was, however, and was relieved to see a now flying Harry shoot up. He really was remarkably talented on his broom. Nevertheless she did not rest easy until he'd gotten his egg and the task was complete. Gripping Ron's robes tightly she pulled him along with her, not noticing that he came rather willingly.

They got inside the tent mainly because everyone was too distracted to stop them. Madam Pomfrey was patching up Harry's injuries as they hovered nearby. Glancing over at Ron she noticed that the boy looked oddly pale under his freckles. Then she watched as he swallowed and told Harry that he suspected that whomever had put his name in that goblet might be trying to do him in.

Hermione could have hit him! Then, after only a few more moments of tension, they were making up! After weeks of suffering through their silence and angst the pair of them were just patching together as if nothing ever went wrong in the first place and Ron hadn't been acting like the world's biggest git. _**Boys!**_ She burst into tears out of pure frustration. "You're both so stupid!"

She couldn't bear for them to see her like this. Turning about, she took off in a run from the tent. Let the idiots be together without her.

_"That was the most pathetic display of girlishness I've ever been unfortunate to witness."_

She couldn't keep from groaning. Coming to a stop near a large tree she leaned back against it with a huff. _"So go spy on someone else! I'm not in the mood!"_

_"I was just going to congratulate you for getting Harry through the Task."_

_"Harry doesn't need me to get him to fly. He does that very well on his own."_

_"True, but he was pathetic with his spell-thingy until you drilled him on it."_

_"Summoning Charm. It's called a summoning charm."_

_"Whatever. It was nicely done, at any rate."_

She sighed, leaning her head back and not caring if the bark of the tree snagged her curls. Harry had done it! He'd made it through alive! She felt as though she could collapse from the relief of it all.

A noisy pack of students came close to her and she opened her eyes to see what was what. The Hufflepuffs were cheering and shouting, circling around Cedric who was unable to keep the smile from his face even though she could see he was uncomfortable with the attention. She couldn't help but grin as they passed her. He caught sight of her and gave her a wave, which she returned automatically.

_"Bet he'd like a congratulation kiss."_

_"I thought you wanted me to steer clear of him because he was too good with children."_

_"Surely your lot has some form of birth control."_

She knew her face must have burned scarlet. She was only glad that the Hufflepuffs were too wrapped up in their own joy to notice. Kathryn cackled with mirth at her mortification. Thankfully, Fred and George showed up with Lee Jordan right about then and decided to pull her along with them to help get the party started up in the tower.

She looked up from the book in front of her to stare at Krum as he sat on the opposite side of the table from her. Surely she hadn't heard that correctly. **"What was that?"**

**"Would you accompany me to the Yule Ball?"** He spoke the words with a low voice, either in deference to their being in the library or so that he wouldn't be overheard by the pack of wolves trying to pass themselves off as students on the other side of the stacks.

Viktor Krum was asking her to the ball?

She gave herself a mental slap. Of course he was! She was the only Hogwarts girl here who could speak with him in Bulgarian. Her cheeks colored slightly and she nodded. **"I would be honored."** It wasn't as though she had anyone else to go with, or that anyone else was likely to ask. Well, she suspected that might have been what Blaise Zabini had been trying to do in Potions class, but seeing how Severus had incinerated the origami bird the boy had sent her way before it even had gotten halfway across the room and then condemned him to three nights detention, she couldn't know for certain. Not that she would have agreed to go to the ball with Zabini in the first place. She didn't fancy spending the entire evening fighting him to keep on her dress robes.

Krum smiled, looking pleased by her answer. He was about to say something more when his friend Yuri arrived. The other boy gave Hermione a gentle apology and said that Kakaroff had sent him for Viktor. She noticed Krum did not seem to want to leave, but he seemed to have little choice in the matter. He rose from the table, taking one of Hermione's hands up into one of his and pressed a gentle kiss against her fingers before bidding her farewell.

It was only then that she saw Cedric standing between two nearby shelves. He had one hand curled up in a half-fist against one of the bookcases, the other holding a thick tome on transfiguration. His expression was hard to read and he seemed to be forcing the smile to his face before he came to join her at the table.

"Hey, Cedric."

"Hey, Hermione." He set the book down and opened it, looking down at the page. When he spoke, it was with a soft voice. "So, going to the ball with Krum, then?"

She gave a shrug. "Yes, it looks as though I am." She suddenly felt a bit guilty, though she couldn't think why. "I suppose that I should have expected at least one of the Durmstrang boys to ask. Many of them aren't comfortable with English. I've had to translate about a half dozen Yule Ball invitations for them already. I might have to start charging." She tried a weak smile. "I suppose Krum just wanted to be certain he had a date he could talk to."

Cedric didn't look convinced. "Sure. Communication." He gave a shrug, slouching down a bit in his chair. "Couldn't be because you're dead clever, or because you're nice to just about everyone or because you're cute as a button. Must be because he can talk to you."

He sounded almost… sullen? An odd thought crossed her mind. Had Cedric been planning to ask her to the ball? She dismissed the harebrained idea as soon as it formed. Cedric Diggory was a friend and occasional training partner, nothing more. He had girls swooning over him from all directions. And, though she was sorry to admit it, he was still a bit scared of her. She knew that, though he was getting very good at hiding it. At any rate, she was quite certain that he had not been planning to ask her to the ball.


	18. Chapter 18

_"And just how do you think you're going to hide a knife wearing _that_?"_

Hermione rolled her eyes as she drug out the old-fashioned stockings and garters she had picked up for the ball. Kathryn fell silent, somewhat satisfied. As long as no one got grabby, no one would ever know. And, she thought, it was not as though anyone was likely to get grabby on her.

One small knife with a thigh sheath was mostly hidden by her garter. She did not dare to take her double wands with her, they were simply too unusual and a bit too long, but there was still room for her regular wand to slip in beside it. Keeping both in the same place was not the ideal situation, but the gown was a one piece and with the ballroom style dances they were doing tonight it was likely Krum would feel her wand were she to hide it between her shoulder blades.

Kathryn mollified, Hermione worked on getting ready. The worst was her hair, but thanks to a clever witch who had worked at an exclusive salon in magical Paris until succumbing to a nasty case of dragon pox about five years ago, she now knew a few charms that tamed and twisted the mass of frizz into an elegant coif complete with a few teasing curls around her face. A light dusting of make up and she was ready to don the gown. Standing back to look at herself in the mirror she hardly recognized the witch looking back at her.

_"You clean up rather well."_

_"I'm terrified I'm going to trip over my feet and make a fool of myself."_

Kathryn gave a snort inside her head. _"Trust me, dancing will be easy compared to your normal routine. And if you get stuck, just ask someone. I'm sure there has to be at least _one_ person out under the lawn who knew how to cut a rug."_

She was right, of course, but Hermione was not all that certain she should be relying on the Great Majority for all her problems. Should she not do _something_ for herself? At the very least she should do something for others.

Which reminded her…

Now dressed she ducked into the lavatory before Parvati or Lavender showed up. She needed to be quick about this, and she must not be seen. Calling up a 'door' she ducked into the continuum and traveled the relatively miniscule distance to the boys' dormitory. None of them were up here just yet, and she hoped she had time enough to pull this off. Moving over to Ron's bed, she opened up the curtains and saw what had gotten him so upset at the Burrow. The robes truly were ghastly. She knew that the Weasleys were strapped for cash, and too proud to accept any money from either her or Harry, but surely Molly could have at least done _something_ to try and improve Ron's robes.

She hiked up her skirt and pulled out her wand. Her transfiguration spells had gotten a lot stronger and longer lasting. She was certain she could do something that would last until close to dawn, giving Ron plenty of time to enjoy not being a laughing stock. Besides, the Patil twins were beautiful and would certainly be dressed in something spectacular if not in Saris, which were always spectacular. Ron should at least look nice enough to have one of them on his arm, whichever one he was taking.

Picturing in her mind something that would look better with his eyes she concentrated hard before casting the spell. A little flick and twirl of her wand, along with the right incantation playing in her mind, and the horrid combination of moulding lace and ruffles gave way to something more sleek and modern and in a shade of dark blue that would bring out Ron's best features. She opened her eyes and saw that she had been quite successful.

Smiling to herself she almost lingered too long, but the sound of the boys coming upstairs got to her. Just as quickly as she had arrived, she ducked back into the continuum and made her way outside of the castle where she made her way as calmly as possible to where several other Hogwarts students were to wait for their Durmstrang dates. She ignored the glances and surprised gasps aimed her way as her identity slowly filtered through the gathering.

The Durmstrang students had arranged for a sort of outdoor tearoom to be set up for their dates until it was time for them to join them. Warming charms had been cast all about so that they need not bother with coats and mugs of mulled cider were made available to comfort nervous fingers and stomachs. All about her people were chatting excitedly, but she had no one to speak with. Harry and Ron were getting ready for their dates, Ron doubtless trying to figure out who had switched his robes. Cedric had likely found a date of his own and was meeting up with her, and since he was not out here with the rest of them then she would guess that his date was not from Durmstrang.

She felt completely isolated. Was this how Kathryn had felt most of the time? Cut off from other living, breathing people with only the cold voices of the dead to keep her company?

The chattering turned into an excited buzzing, drawing her attention towards the direction of the ship. The Durmstrang students were making their way down the gangplank. The girls, like the ones from Hogwarts, had been allowed to dress pretty much however they wanted. The boys, however, looked more like military cadets with their matching dress robes and scarlet cloaks. Viktor's head turned as he sought her out. It did not take him long. She thought she saw a smile touch his lips before he started to make his way over to her.

She rose from the little chair where she had been seated and smiled as he took her hand to press it to his lips. She could feel her cheeks burning and scolded herself silently. This was not a real date! She was merely going along with it because Viktor was uncomfortable in his English skills. That was all.

* * *

Head screwed firmly back into place she offered him a shy smile and allowed him to slip her arm into the crook of his so that he could escort her into the castle.

Ron ran his hands down the front of his dress robes again, still not quite believing what he was wearing. "But, Harry, if you didn't do it, who did?"

"I dunno, Ron. Maybe 'Mione?"

"Nah, couldn't be. She wouldn't do something like this without telling me first."

"You wouldn't have accepted them if she had, Ron." And it was true. His pride would have gotten in the way. Harry's gut told him that Hermione had been behind the new dress robes, if they were new robes and not his old ones transfigured. Their friend was clever enough to pull it off, of that he was certain. Bless her.

Parvati brought Padma over to meet them. The other twin gave Ron an appraising look, seeming pleased enough with him and willing to walk into the hall on his arm. Harry was to enter with Parvati along with the other champions. He saw Fleur Delacour with Roger Davies from Ravenclaw. His gut twisted as he saw Cho with Diggory. Krum was standing with a very pretty girl with sleek brown hair and dress robes of a floating periwinkle fabric. At first he thought that she must be one of the girls from Beauxbaton until she turned slightly and he heard Parvati gasp.

It was _Hermione_! _Their_ Hermione! Only, she looked completely different. Without the small library she always carried around with her she was able to stand up straighter and hold her shoulders back a bit. And she had done something with her hair. She looked a bit bashful and uncertain as she caught his gaze. She offered him and his date a nervous smile and a wave. Harry returned it automatically, still a bit awestruck until he realized he was staring. Shaking himself back he turned his head away only to find his eyes landing on Cho and Diggory again. Cho looked splendid even as she fussed with an upturn in the sleeve of her gown. But Diggory was not looking at Cho. His attention was certainly elsewhere at a point behind them. Harry frowned, wondering what he could possibly find more interesting that Cho Chang and followed his gaze back to Krum and Hermione.

Cedric was looking at Hermione? He easily recognized the surly light in the Hufflepuff's eyes, because he saw it in his own ever since Cho had told him that she already had a date to the ball. Had Diggory, like Harry, brought someone to the ball because his first choice had already been taken? Had Krum beaten him to Hermione and so he had asked Cho instead? Harry was certain that there was likely some clever literary reference to explain this conundrum, but he was not well read enough to call it up. Perhaps Hermione would know of one, but it was not something he should ask.

The doors to the Great Hall swung open and applause poured out. Harry took a steadying breath and drug his thoughts back to the present. It was time to dance.

* * *

Severus refused to linger in the Great Hall after the meal had been served. He was fuming. How dare Karkaroff fail to keep an eye on his pet?!

He had thought the biggest threat came from his own house, but he had disabused Zabini of any thoughts regarding taking his daughter to the ball early on. A couple of nasty detentions for Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein had eliminated the Ravenclaw contingent nicely and he was certain that Potter and Weasley felt nothing beyond deep friendship for Hermione unless it was something akin to sibling affection. He never would have expected Krum to step up to the plate.

He would have preferred Boot or Goldstein. At least the Ravenclaws were closer to her age and would have been too dazzled by her intellect to be much of a danger to her.

It was not that he wanted to keep Hermione a child; he simply did not think that fifteen was old enough to be going on 'dates'. Seventeen was a more fitting age. At least then she would have been a legal adult and responsible for her own mistakes. Though even at seventeen the Bulgarian would have been too mature for her. He was a Quidditch star of international fame with witches throwing themselves at him from every direction. Krum was too worldly to trust with an innocent schoolgirl such as his daughter. At least in the Great Hall there would be too many prying eyes for him to try anything forward.

Unfortunately, when Karkaroff had made his way outside, the conversation was too strained for Severus to demand that he go in there and get his student away from Hermione. Yes, he knew the Dark Mark was becoming clearer, and Igor had more than enough reason to worry. He had sold out members of the Dark Lord's inner circle to save his own skin. There would be retribution, and rightly so. Of course, Severus had committed his own fair amount of betrayal, but he had been cunning enough to hide it so that he still appeared a loyal servant. He never would have thought he would be pleased to see Potter and Weasley, but the boys' appearance did stop Igor's tirade and send the wizard off.

Severus blasted another rose bush and saved a third year Hufflepuff from defilement at the hands of a seventh year Beauxbaton boy. And he had though the age difference between Hermione and Krum to be too great! Maxime should be warned that she had pedophiles in her school. He remembered the day when young witches kept their knickers on until marriage, or at least until they had managed to work their intended target to such a frenzy that he had already gone out and bought the engagement ring. In his opinion the sexual revolution and not done young women any real favors. Girls no longer realized that their sex was their most potent weapon.

"Vhy are you crying, Herm-own-ninny?"

Severus froze. What the bloody hell was she doing away from the dance? With a scowl darkening his brow he made his way along the flagstones until he hovered at a corner. There, not ten feet away from him, stood his daughter. She had her hands knotted on the cold railing and was looking out over the lawn. The Bulgarian was standing closer than what he was comfortable with, hovering at her shoulder.

"It's nothing." Snape watched as she wiped her hand over her face, doubtless clearing away tears. What had upset her? Who had upset her? "Just stupid boys saying stupid things."

Krum's face darkened. "Someone has insulted you? Who has done this? I vill deal vith them."

She shook her head. "No, thank you, Viktor, but this is a matter between friends. I should be used to Ronald letting his mouth get away from his brains by now."

So the Weasley brat had put his foot in it again, had he? That was nothing new. He would have been surprised if the boy had not said something stupid tonight. His shoulders relaxed somewhat as he kept to the shadow of the building, eyes narrowing as Krum placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder and turned her to face him.

"You should not vorry about it, Herm-own-ninny. He is just a boy."

She sniffled and gave a bit of a chuff. "He is at that." Severus watched her take a breath and square her shoulders. When she spoke again, however, it was in Bulgarian, much to his annoyance. He did not like not understanding what was being said. Nor did he like the smile that lit on the boy's face. A smile that could only be described as tender as he took her chin in his fingers.

"I did not ask you to come vith me because you speak Bulgarian, Herm-own-ninny."

She blinked. "You… didn't?"

"No. I did not." The boy lowered his head and pressed his lips against Hermione's. The girl's eyes flared in shock, clearly not having expected the move. She froze, too ignorant of such things to know what to do as the Bulgarian's hands came to her shoulders and began to pull her in closer.

Severus aimed his wand at the rose bushes just to the left of the boy and sent off a severing charm. Leaves and petals went flying and the pair broke apart instantly. Their eyes turned to him, Krum's dark and angry, Hermione's wide and embarrassed.

He stepped out of the shadow, his robes billowing about his ankles. "Hermione, it is too cold out here for you to be without a cloak. Return to the hall."

She swallowed and gave a shaking 'Yes, Sir' before she hurried towards the doors leading into the castle. Krum made to follow her but the tip of Severus' wand against his chest stopped him. The young man gave him a glowering look.

There were so many possibilities. He could transfigure Krum into a slug or perhaps cast a charm that would make it impossible for the boy to entertain any lustful thoughts. Maybe a hex to give him an unpleasant burning in his nether regions. But, no, he must not use dark magic against someone who, technically, had not done anything wrong just yet. Of course, Severus thought stealing a kiss from a fifteen-year-old miss was wrong, but no one else would agree with him. Instead, he would have to settle for some fatherly caution. "Fifteen, Mr. Krum."

The Bulgarian arched a haughty brow, refusing to be cowed by him. He grudgingly admitted that this impressed him. He had noticed that he did not cower in front of Igor, either. The boy had steel in his spine. That much was for certain. "She is only fifteen. Hardly more than a child."

"She is wise beyond her years."

"In her scholastic achievements, perhaps, but not in matters of the heart or of the flesh. And I would not see her distracted."

"Vhat concern is it of yours?" The glower was back. Severus answered it with a smirk.

"You should pay closer attention to the Hogwarts' gossip, Mr. Krum. That was _my_ daughter you sought to take liberties with." The first flicker of uncertainty danced through Krum's eyes. "Ah, I see. Did you perhaps think she was some half-blood or muggleborn far removed from her parents and thus there would be no one to call you to task should you press your advantage?"

"No!" The wizard drew himself up to his full height. "I haff only the most honorable intentions…"

"Towards a child?" He could not keep the sneer from his voice. "I would advise you to keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Krum. Igor is an old friend of mine. I do not relish having to explain to him why his most prized pupil has to be taken home in a matchbox." Confident that his message was clear, Severus moved his wand aside with a twist of the wrist. Krum studied him from under heavy brows for a silent moment before stepping away and stalking back towards the castle.

Lucius had been correct; daughters were a trial. One never knew when some hot-blooded Casanova would try to take advantage. And now that all the school was aware just how pretty Hermione was under the ink stains and parchment there were likely to be quite a few more. He would need to practice his glowers and ensure Filch was ready for extra detentions.


	19. Chapter 19

Hermione stirred a bit of honey into her tea as she waited. This far back in the little café she could barely make out the noise of the traffic outside over the humming chatter of other patrons. Spoons clinked against cups and forks scraped against plates amidst muted laughter and hushed conversations. She had not planned on having another 'unsanctioned' off-campus trip just yet, but Mr. Turner had asked nicely.

"Hermione?" She turned towards the voice to find Michael standing nearby. The older man gave her a gentle smile and a nod of greeting. A mature, stately woman with graying hair and shrewd, piercing eyes was standing to his left. "I'm glad you could accept my invitation. This is Dr. Evangeline Stroud, the head of our organization."

Hermione accepted Dr. Stroud's proffered hand with a gentle shake. "A pleasure to meet you, Doctor." The woman gave her a half-smile and Hermione got the feeling that she knew it was just a nicety. Something you said to be polite. The pair of them moved to join her at her table as she moved the plastic bag containing the Headmaster's new socks and candies to the other side of her chair and out of the way. "So… Mr. Turner said that you wanted to meet with me?"

Dr. Stroud nodded as she draped her jacket over the back of her chair. "I did." Those eyes came back to her, as if trying to read her. "Am I just meeting you?"

Hermione nodded. "She's not here. Actually, I haven't heard from her in a few days. Not since the dance we had at the school. And she's taken to vanishing for days or weeks at a time."

Michael ordered more tea, the conversation halted while their waitress was in earshot and resuming once she had left. "That's likely a good sign. Knowing Kathryn as I did, it most likely means that she's confident you are getting to where you can take care of yourself."

Dr. Stroud nodded in apparent agreement. "Didn't get the chance to interact with Kathryn one-on-one while she was with us, but from reading her file she comes across at the type of personality that believes in self-reliance. Not just in herself, but in those around her. The records show that she didn't like to ask for help unless she absolutely had no other option."

Hermione nodded. "If you don't mind my asking, what is your field of study, Dr. Stroud?"

"Psychiatry and Sociology." The woman gave a single shouldered shrug. "Though I did not spend much time in practice before I found myself with E-Branch. I was brought in with the promise of having a safe haven during a stressful point in my life. Now I run the department, though I spend most of my time preventing the repeat of past mistakes."

They paused again as their tea was brought out. Dr. Stroud thanked the waitress politely before nodding to Michael. Mr. Turner's eyes went out of focus for a brief moment, followed by a sort of static buzz that Hermione felt at the base of her skull. She tensed, her hand drifting downward automatically towards where her wand was tucked into her boot. Just a precaution.

Then the buzzing lessened and everything seemed normal, though Michael looked a little paler than before. Dr. Stroud's shoulders relaxed a bit. "That's better. Now we can speak without danger of being overheard."

"What did he just do?"

Michael added a bit of lemon to his tea. "I made everyone forget that we're here. Difficult to do for a larger crowd, but it's just a basic, general idea rather than rewriting an entire memory."

Hermione blinked, a cold feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. "You can do that? Rewrite memories, I mean? Without magic?"

Turner nodded, but it was Stroud who spoke. "He can, and with fewer of the side affects we've seen in targets of magical tampering. However, Michael, like most espers, only has one or two talents. Mainly he can affect memory and perception, and to a minor degree he has some precognition, though for him it only comes in dreams and is rarely very quick or clear. My gift lies in Empathy, and I have it in abundance. That was why I had trouble being a psychiatrist in practice. The emotional trauma of some of my patients was too great for me to bear, and it took a lot of concentration and training before I could be comfortable in a crowd such as this one."

She swallowed hard and wondered if perhaps she might have been foolish in coming here alone. At the very least she should have sent out feelers to find Kathryn, or perhaps even have asked Professor Dumbledore if he wanted to accompany her. She did not fancy the idea of having her mind wiped clean of all that she had learned since Kathryn's letter advising her of where she had come from. Dr. Stroud seemed to read her mind, or at the very least, sensed her trepidation.

"We are no threat to you, Hermione. Although, I can't deny that there is some concern. To our knowledge there has never been a blending of strong magical and psychic bloodlines. Those of us strong enough to know what we are tend to avoid your father's sort. And from what we can tell the governing body over the magical race would prefer to continue to ignore that people like us exist. It isn't a perfect set up by any means, and it leaves both sides vulnerable, but I think both sides fear what would happen if it actually came to violence."

"But if the average esper only has one or two talents… I mean… wizards can do a variety of different things."

"But how many can do a variety of tasks better than anyone else? Michael is likely better at rearranging memories better than most any wizard you could compare him to. There are telepaths who can pluck a thought from your mind so quickly that they know what you want to do before you know yourself. And then there are those who would fall under the category of 'shock troops'. Pyrokenetics. Telekenetics. Your mother would have been classified amongst them. She was likely the most impressive member of the department before Trout finally pushed her too far."

Hermione frowned. "Kathryn? I'll admit that she would have made a good spy, but I thought her combative abilities were physical."

Michael gave a sad sort of smile. "Kathryn enjoyed getting her hands dirty, that much was true, but that wasn't her only ability. It went beyond whispers from dead people in the back of her mind. There was a physical aspect of it as well." He pushed his tea aside, leaning forward. "Have you asked a corpse to move for you, yet? To do something for you?"

Stroud gave a little shiver, and then promptly looked embarrassed about it. Hermione frowned and shook her head even as her mind drifted back to the bodies under the lawns at Hogwarts. They were moving on their own and claimed to have been asked to do so. Turner pressed on, his voice soft even though they were not overheard. "Kathryn did, on more than one occasion. I had to go on field assignments with her from time to time, to sort of 'mop up' behind the team if there were any witnesses. I saw your mother in action. It was like something out of a Romero film; those zombie flicks he used to make. If there was a cemetery nearby, she would call the bodies to her. Dead people would claw their way out of the ground and break out of their mausoleums to fight by her side. And it wasn't just those who were already dead, but even those who fell while fighting, and from both sides. Imagine pressing on when the fallen comrade who just took a hit and died next to you gets up again and is now trying to stop you. Kathryn could get them to do that. They would rise up against their own brothers and loved ones if she asked it of them, though she did admit that they didn't like doing so."

Now it was Hermione's turn to shiver. The ghosts at school were one thing. They had faces and personalities. They smiled and joked and played pranks if the mood struck them. But they were just ectoplasm and cold space, something you could walk through. The idea of calling forth an army of rotting, shambling corpses seemed too horrific to bear, and completely, utterly wrong. "But why would they? I mean, why would they fight against their own loved ones just because Kathryn wanted them to? How could she make them do it without being just as bad as a necromancer?"

Stroud reached into the briefcase she had carried with her as she responded. "According to her file, it was because they wanted to do it for her. She described the affection of the dead towards her and those of your family with the gift as sycophantic, almost worshipful." She continued to search her bag.

"Yeah, she didn't like it too much at times. " Mr. Turner gave a sad smile. "I think it made her uncomfortable."

Evangeline apparently found what she was looking for and pulled out a couple of paper binders such as those someone might use to bind a report. The reinforced card-stock that made up the covers was a deep red in color, the color of old blood. "I copied these for you the other night. I shouldn't let them out of the office, but I can think of no one who has more right to see them than you." She offered the folders to Hermione who took them with a puzzled frown.

"What are they?"

"Summary files on both Kathryn and on Harry Keogh, Sr. I couldn't bring you the full files, of course, because there is simply too much data to carry. However, if you want to know more after reading through those I can likely manage to have them scanned and burned to disk for you."

She looked at the folders with a newfound curiosity. "Does… does it say how Kathy died? Have you found out what happened, yet?"

Turner and Stroud exchanged an inscrutable look. Michael shook his head and answered, "We don't know either, Hermione. We have our suspicions, but we can't say anything for certain just yet. I'm guessing she still won't talk about it?"

"No. She either changes the subject or tells me to drop it. I've given up asking." She took a breath and ran a hand over the cover of the file with her great-grandfather's name. "She says that I'm like him. Well, actually she says that _they_ say I'm like him. Supposedly I'm… warmer. More likeable."

"Yeah, well, Kathy did sometimes say that it made her feel a bit inadequate when _they_ started comparing her to her grandfather. But to tell the truth even our files indicate that he was a nicer person. Not sure how that happened, but there you go."

Hermione managed a shrug before tucking the folders away inside her shopping bag. "Was there anything else you wanted to see me about, Dr. Stroud? Only, I need to be getting back before they miss me at the school. I'm not really supposed to be here."

Evangeline shook her head. "No, nothing more other than to let you know that you will always have a place with us should you need it. If you can't find your niche in your father's world, that is. " Dr. Stroud gave her a faint smile that appeared quite genuine. "I won't lie to you, Hermione. Part of it is selfishness on our part. To our knowledge the gift doesn't show up in other bloodlines, and your family isn't very prolific. As far as we know you are the only one of your kind living."

Hermione tucked an errant curl behind her ear. "Yeah, I've gotten that impression myself."

* * *

Cho sat on the bench next to him, but not looking at him. Cedric ran a hand through his hair, feeling like a complete and utter heel. "I'm sorry, Cho, I really am, but this just doesn't feel right." She made a sound that was suspiciously like a sniffle. He was quite certain that she was crying and it was almost enough to make him want to take it all back. But that would not have been fair to either of them. "You're a great girl, one of the best in the school, but I don't feel anything other than friendship towards you. I've tried, honest I have, but I…" He faltered, not sure how to continue.

"But you fancy someone else." Her Irish lilt sounded heartbreaking through her tears. "I know, or at least I suspected. I saw you at the ball, watching her. Hermione."

His cheeks burned. He had not realized he had been so obvious. "You did?"

Cho sniffed again and nodded. "Not surprising, I suppose. I mean, everyone knows that you sit at her table in the library if she's in there by herself." She reached up and wiped her cheeks dry. "Why didn't you ask her?"

"Uhm… Krum got to her first. I walked in just as he was asking her."

The Ravenclaw gave a nod. "Same thing with me and Harry. He asked me, but I'd already said 'yes' to you."

Somehow this did not surprise him. "So, bungled up all around." He rubbed the back of his neck, stealing a look at the girl. "Cho, I really am sorry. I never meant to hurt you."

She lifted her head and looked at him, her eyes shining. "It's better to get it out now rather than later. This way you might still get to take her to Hogsmede on Valentines Day, though I don't think he'll let you near her."

He frowned. "Who? Krum?"

Cho shook her head. "Professor Snape. He's a bit over protective. Both Terry and Tony wanted to ask her but he found out about it and threw them both in detention. He said it was because they disrupted class, but everyone knew better. They had to help Filch clean out blocked drains in the dungeon toilets for three nights straight."

Oh, right. How had he forgotten about Snape? Well, that was obvious. Hermione was a completely different person from her birth father. It was easy to forget the connection between them. "It'll be interesting, if nothing else." He gave her a searching look. "Are you going to be all right?"

"I will be." She mustered up a weak smile. "Maybe you could put in a good word with Harry for me. Let him know I'll need a date on Valentines." He tried to give her a supportive smile in response. It was better to end it now than to drag it out and hurt them both. Cedric watched as Cho rose from the bench and shouldered her satchel. She gave him one last, barely there smile before walking off and leaving him to his thoughts.

Now he was without a girl and Krum had the girl he wanted. Or did he? Hermione had seemed oblivious to the concept that someone might actually be attracted to her in a romantic sense, though he could not understand why. By now everyone had heard what an idiot Weasley had been when he realized who had escorted her to the ball. Cedric was pretty certain that the stories about her involvement with Potter were full of dead air, but he had not enjoyed reading about it. He did not have any right to be jealous, of course, but that did not stop him from feeling a bit put out by all the times she was being linked with Harry.

He got up and shouldered his satchel as he walked back into the school. He was just going to have to pluck up the courage to tell Hermione how he felt about her. And if she chose to stick with Krum over him, then he would bow out gracefully. It would serve him right for dragging his feet and letting his fear get the better of him. He had already known that she was the cleverest witch in school, and with that came power. He knew full well she would likely always outclass him in magic, but that did not stop her from being a good and wonderful person inside. And besides, Krum would have to go home some day. Long distance relationships rarely ever worked out.

He turned a corner when he saw the object of his musings parting company with Professor Dumbledore. The aged wizard had a shiny, white plastic sack like those used by muggle shops and was peering inside it with apparent glee. Hermione was hugging something to her chest with one arm as she waved a farewell back at the headmaster with her free hand. She picked up the pace of her steps as she turned her face forward to head in his direction, tripping to a stop as she spotted him. "Cedric."

He swallowed and gave her a nod. "Not getting into trouble are you?"

She blushed and shook her head. "Not me. I'm too dull for that."

He could not keep the grin from his face. "You're not dull at all." He nodded his chin to the items she had in her arm. "More class work?"

"Oh, no." She looked down at them and gave a shrug. "More like… genealogy. I'm doing some reading on my birth mother and her family."

That made sense. She could ask Snape anything she wanted to know about his side, but her mother was out of reach. "You're not overloading yourself again, are you? I thought you had given the time turner back."

"How did you know about the time turner?"

"Do you remember how you were acting towards the end of last year? You were too frazzled and ready to snap at everyone." He winced. Criticizing her probably was not the best way to start off. "Sorry."

She sighed. "No, you're right. I was a witch, and not in a good way." She gave him a rueful smile. "Do you have anything else for today? Classes or champion business or such?"

He blinked. "No, I'm done until Monday. Why?"

She shrugged. "I thought I might take advantage of the afternoon and get in some practice, if you'd like to join in."

His heart gave a little leap. "Yeah, I could use the break, too." And he could. He had found that the training gave him something different to think about. It was not Quidditch or classes or the tournament, but something else all together. "I'll dash back to the dorm and get changed, shall I? Meet you in the room?"

She nodded and grinned before heading off to Gryffindor Tower. Cedric knew he must have made a sight, a prefect running through the halls. Well, not really running, but walking very, very quickly. He made it to the Hufflepuff dorms, pausing only long enough to give McMillan a playful frog to the upper arm before heading up the steps to his room. His fellow sixth year Huffs were there, looking up from a game of chess as he came in and practically attacked his trunk.

"Hot date with Chang, Ced?" Dylan was trying not to laugh as he watched him strip out of his school uniform and into something better suited to physical exertion. Sebastian was too busy studying the board.

"No. With Granger." He could not keep the smile from his face as Sebastian nearly fell off the bed in shock. Dylan gaped at him.

"_Granger?!_ Are you _mental_?"

"Not the last time I checked. Why?"

Sebastian shook his head at him. "Should we start with the Bulgarian Bruiser or the Bat in the dungeons?"

Cedric laced up his trainers. "Nothing worth having is without a little risk."

"There's nothing 'little' about the risk that comes with that one, Ced." Dylan looked at him in awe. "I think being picked as a champion has gone to your head. You're starting to think you're invincible."

He shut the lid of his trunk and gave them both a grin. "She's worth it." Without further ado he headed back out, running his fingers through his hair out of a habit borne from years of hearing his mother scold him about mussing up his curls. He knew it would not matter as he would soon be overheated and sweaty, but from a benign and non-scandalous activity. This was sparring, after all, not snogging.

She was already there when he arrived. He wished he knew how she did that, seeing how Gryffindor Tower was further from the Room of Requirement than the Hufflepuff dorms and he knew most girls took longer to dress. She was finishing up her braid and securing it with an elastic band as he arrived, her over wear already discarded and folded neatly on a bench along one wall. "Always the quick one, Granger."

"Always. I'm thinking about suggesting to the Headmaster that Hogwarts have a Track and Field team. I could do cross country."

"Huh?"

She grinned at him. "Muggle sports, Cedric, built around a lot of endurance training and running." Her hair done, she started to stretch out. "How are you settling back into classes?"

He stripped the heavy sweater off and folded it up to place it beside her sweats before joining her in the warm up. "A bit hard to concentrate at first after the break, but I'm doing all right. Still keeping at the top of all your classes?"

"All except DADA. Harry's always tops in that class as long as we have a decent teacher. It's scary how much of a natural he is at it."

"Yeah, well, he likely feels he has added incentive." Cedric frowned, something else pricking at his mind. "Hermione, how's Harry coming along with that egg clue?"

She paused, looking up at him from a deep toe-touch. "The egg? Well, he tells me he has it figured out…" She drifted off, frowning. Cedric though he knew why.

"You think he might not be telling you the whole truth?"

She sighed and straightened up, still frowning. "I hate that he has to go through all of this. He's far too young."

"Yeah, he is. I still don't think it's right that they made him stay in even when he didn't put his name in the goblet. Doesn't seem right that they can hold him to a contract he didn't enter in to. It would be different if a parent or guardian put him up for it, but we all know he doesn't have anyone like that to speak for him." He stopped, his frown matching hers. "Look, I know you and Ron have been helping Harry," he held up a hand when she opened her mouth to defend her actions, "and I agree with it. You learn a lot of magic in the next three two to three years. He's not prepared for this in the slightest."

Hermione nodded, her hands worrying a bit. "But what is there to do about it? I mean, they've railroaded him into this competition and I have to wonder if Professor Moody doesn't have a point. I know he's supposed to be paranoid and all, but there are a lot of people out there who still think You-Know-Who had the right of it. They're really angry that Harry survived that night."

Cedric did not want to dwell on the thought that someone might have put Potter's name in the cup as part of an elaborate scheme to kill him. "Yeah, well, my money is on a really sick prank on the part of an older student or students. Slytherin house would be the most likely candidates, though we've no proof. At any rate, tell Harry to take that egg of his into the bath with him. He can use the prefects' bath on the fifth floor. The password is 'Pine Fresh'"

She blinked at him. "Take a bath with it?"

Cedric took a breath and nodded. "That's what I said. He should take the egg in with him and mull things over in the water." Said out loud, it did sound a bit lame. "Sorry, but I shouldn't tell you more than that. It's as much as I dare under the circumstances. But he leveled things up with me for the first task, so it's only fair I try and help him the same way. Besides, he's sharper than people give him credit for. I know everyone says you do his thinking for him, but they're selling him short…" He stopped. She was beaming at him with the most radiant smile he thought he'd ever seen. She looked… happy? "I… what?"

"You are one of the most honorable, fair-minded people I've ever met, Cedric Diggory, and I'm proud to be your friend."

He felt his neck heat up and knew he must be blushing. "Ah… well… I'm a Hufflepuff. We're sort of known for those qualities. That and working ourselves into an early grave." He tried to brush it off, but the simple compliment from her made him feel about ten feet tall for some reason. "So… practice?"

Hermione nodded and walked over to a bin that held several different sizes of fighting sticks. It was not his best skill, but he was learning. Besides, he really did not trust himself to do any hand-to-hand with her at the moment. The sticks would keep him a gentleman.


	20. Chapter 20

_"I don't like this."_

_"Well, it's not up to you, is it?"_

_"They're going to drown you!"_

Hermoine somehow refrained from rolling her eyes. She was not about to be drowned. The Headmaster knew what he was doing. She gave him a trusting smile as she accepted the vial of potion that would help her relax. Once she was sufficiently drowsy a stasis charm would be put on her so that she could be submerged in the Black Lake for a Triwizard Champion to come rescue. Since Ron was here, she was guessing that she was not intended for Harry.

Speaking of Ron, he looked a bit green around the gills as he accepted his own dose of potion, as did the Durmstrang boy, a friend of Krum's. The little French girl looked nervous, but was still at that age where children usually trusted adults with authority. All four 'hostages' downed the potion, which tasted of vanilla and oranges in spite of the icky black color. Either Severus was feeling friendly today or the Headmaster had gotten someone else to brew the potion.

As for Severus, she was pointedly _not_ looking at him. She had made the mistake of doing so earlier and he looked as though he would like nothing more than to remove someone's head from their shoulders. She had not seen him this pissy since, well, since the Yule Ball when he had crashed her First Kiss.

_"I can't believe I missed that."_

_"I'm rather glad you did. There are certain things I'd rather not have you witnessing."_

_"This mean I have to skip your first lay, too?"_

Fortunately she was getting too sleepy to be visibly embarrassed. _"Absolutely. And while you are at it, you can skip just about any other sexual encounter unless specifically invited."_

She fell into darkness that soon turned into a dream. She was sitting on the bed in her room at home with its plush, cornflower-blue comforter and hugging the oversized stuffed bear she had gotten for her ninth birthday to her chest. Kathryn was a few feet away from her, sitting backwards on the chair to her desk with her arms folded atop the back. "Well, you're no fun."

"I think it might be considered sick and perverted to peep on your daughter when she's romantically involved."

Kathy rolled her eyes. "Well, if my daughter was actually romantically involved with _anyone_ I would likely die from shock."

"You're already dead."

"Oh, right." She shrugged. "On the other hand, way to go with stringing two boys along at once. My little girl is finally growing up." She gave an exaggerated sniff and pretended to wipe away a tear. "I'm so proud!"

Now Hermione did roll her eyes. "What are you on about?"

"Viktor and Cedric. Nice couple of choices, by the way. That Quidditch stuff may be insanely dangerous but it certainly makes for some hard bodies. Now, my advice to you is to enjoy the Bulgarian while he's here, then flit over to Cutie-Puffy once he gets back on his ship and hits the waves."

"You have lost whatever was left of your mind. Death has obviously driving you senile."

"Hey, watch who you're calling 'senile'. I'm not the one currently tied to the floor of a lake by a strand of kelp." Kathryn looked about the room, taking in the shelves crammed with books, the poster of the periodic table on one wall and her Einstein bear, complete with its tongue sticking out. "Even in your dreams you're a nerd! You definitely got that from your father."

Hermione gave her a perturbed look but chose not to comment. "Where have you been off to, anyway? I haven't heard a peep out of you in weeks."

"Miss me?"

"As much as I'd miss a sore thumb."

"Ouch. Hateful child." Kathryn did not look hurt, however. "I've been trying to figure out where that Voldy guy ran off to. I can't find him."

That got her attention. "I thought you said he wasn't dead. How are you going to find him? I know that everyone has a strand in the Continuum, bit there are billions. It would take millennia to sort through all of them."

"Exactly, but he's bound to screw up and kill someone. I'm certain his victims will be happy to rat the bastard out, only he seems to be laying low." Kathryn rested her chin atop her hands and frowned. "I don't like it. It makes me nervous."

Hermione made a little sound and placed her chin atop the bear's head. It made her nervous, too, not knowing where the Dark Lord might be or what scheme he had cooked up. "Harry's dreams don't bode well. It has something to do with the scar, of that I'm certain, like a connection between him and You-Know-Who although I've never come across anything in my reading about such an occurrence happening before."

"There is usually a first time for everything, except for perhaps an original idea out of Hollywood. I'll just feel better when I know where the bastard is and can keep an eye on him."

"_Only_ keep an eye on him?"

Kathryn shrugged. "I've been told on good authority that your pal, Harry, has to deliver the killing blow. I don't claim to understand why but it also has something to do with that scar of his."

"Great. Like he doesn't already have enough on his shoulders."

Her mother smiled. "You're quite the mother-hen, aren't you? Not sure where you picked that up. God knows neither Severus nor myself have that trait. Probably from the 'nurture' side of things."

Hermione lay back on the dream-world representation of her bed and looked up at the ceiling. "Sometimes I just want to be normal again." She heard Kathryn give a snort. "What?"

"I wouldn't necessarily call being a witch 'normal', Hermione. You never were and you never will be. Bemoaning your lot in life isn't going to change things. You just have to make the best with the cards you've been dealt."

"Easy for you to say. You've done this all your…" The air was cold on her skin, all the colder because she was wet. Hermione sputtered, sending water flying as someone pulled her through the water to the rigging built in the center of the lake. Instinct made her want to panic but she quickly reminded herself not to do so or she might pull them both down. Instead, she allowed Cedric to get them both to safety without incident. Hands were on them, pulling them out of the icy water and wrapping them in thick towels and blankets as Madam Pomfrey hurried forward to give them both potions. The crowd about them was roaring.

She collected her thoughts, looking about. She saw Fleur, but the French girl did not look happy. She was watching the lake with a fearful expression, oblivious to her schoolmates huddled around her and trying to console her. Harry and Krum were nowhere to be seen. She looked back at Cedric who was seated next to her, but he was nodding as Professor Sprout spoke softly in his ear. A frown creased his brow as the teacher finally straightened up and left them. "What is it?"

"I'm the first back. Delacour couldn't get past the Grindylows and was disqualified. I was fifteen minutes over, but I was still first." His eyes went back to the lake. He did not look happy.

"Something wrong?"

"Potter should be back. He was the first one to reach you all. He was still there when I reached you and I told him that we were running out of time, but I think he was worried about the rest of the hostages." He continued to stare at the surface of the lake, frowning. The water broke and they both stiffened, but it was not Harry. "Well, that's clever, but dangerous. Partial transformations can go wrong in a bad way."

"You don't suppose that's his animagus form, do you?"

Cedric shook his head. "Doubtful, or he would have turned completely." They both applauded as Krum pulled his friend over to the scaffolding. The other Durmstrang students pulled them up onto the wooden surface as Madam Pomfrey swooped in to check them over. "He's surprising, Krum. He behaves like Crabbe or Goyle, but he's sharper than he lets on."

"Well, he must be. I mean, he was chosen as a champion. A dullard wouldn't have been, would they?" She tilted her head away from the lake to look at Cedric. "And you can't judge him on looks alone. Take you for example."

He looked back at her. "What about me?"

"Well, other than the teachers and your own house, most everyone else wants to write you off as a 'useless pretty boy'."

He stared at her a moment before giving a bit of a laugh. "Do they really? Well, I don't know whether to be insulted or flattered. Or worried, if the guys are saying that, too."

She grinned. She couldn't help it. A bit of movement past Cedric's shoulder caught her attention and her eyes were drawn that way. She paused as she noted Krum and most of his circle of friends sending rather hostile looks their way. Or, more to the point, Cedric's way. "I think they're a bit upset that you got back first."

He looked over her shoulder and met Krum's gaze. Hermione saw Cedric's shoulders square a bit. "Believe me, Hermione," he said before turning back towards her, "it has_nothing_ to do with my getting back first."

The crowd let out another roar and they turned their attention back to the lake. Harry was finally back! He had Ron and the little French girl with him. Off to her right she heard Fleur give a shout before trying to get to the edge of the scaffold, shouting 'Gabrielle' over and over. Now that she thought about it, Hermione realized that the girl was Delacour in miniature. Likely a younger sister. Both Hogwarts and Beauxbaton students helped to pull the trio out of the water and Hermione watched as Fleur stripped off her own covers to wrap them around the child before hugging her close and peppering her cold-reddened cheeks with kisses.

"That friend of yours would have made quite the Hufflepuff." Cedric sounded almost admiring as he watched Harry. "Very noble and self-sacrificing."

"He has his moments, and then other times he's all boy." She gave Cedric a shy smile. "Do you mind?" He shook his head and motioned for her to be off. She struggled to her feet under the weight of the blankets and went over to congratulate her friend. The crowd was almost too loud to be heard over as they waited for the results. When Harry had been awarded extra points for 'moral fiber' she looked over at caught Cedric's gaze. The older boy gave a shrug, not looking all that surprised at the outcome.

* * *

"But Madam Pomfrey already fed me a potion."

"Well, I am giving you _this _one. Drink up." Severus turned away from Hermione as she sighed and looked at the cup. With a sound of resignation she downed the concoction in three gulps.

"What's this supposed to do, anyway?"

"It will strengthen your body's natural defenses to ward off cold and illness. You became overly chilled today." He looked back over his shoulder as she carried the cup to the sink and washed it out. He wished all of his students had taken his lessons in tidiness so well. "So it's Mr. Diggory now, is it?"

"What?" She dried the cup and set it atop the overhead shelf.

"Your new champion. I thought Mr. Krum had caught your eye." He saw her blink before her cheeks reddened.

"It's not like that. Cedric and I are friends. We have been since last year." She could no longer meet his gaze, her hands suddenly busying themselves with straightening up empty phials.

"_Friends_ is it? Allow me to remind you that Mr. Diggory is two years your senior and already of age. Not to mention that he has attracted a steady stream of young hearts to him while here at school." Of course, there had never been a whisper of ill treatment towards any of the girls that he had ever heard. Diggory was hailed as a gentleman and a model student at all times. "You should think carefully before allowing yourself to become too deeply involved."

"Cedric and I are _friends_. He studies with me and he keeps those bullies you call students away from me. I'm not about to brush him off just because you're getting overprotective." Her jaw set in a mulish expression and for a moment she looked so much like her mother that his wand hand twitched. "Now, if that's all, I would like to go back to the tower. Everyone is celebrating Harry's performance today and I should be there."

Severus arched a brow. "Yes, a very inspiring performance it was. Gillyweed. Quite clever." There had been a reason for bringing her down here. "Are you brewing polyjuice potion again, Hermione?"

She frowned. "What?"

"Supplies for the potion have been stolen from my cupboard. I know you are familiar with it and have brewed it illicitly in the past."

"Well, I… we're not doing _that_. Why would we? I don't know who's nicking your things, but it isn't me! And before you go thinking about them, as much as I like them neither Ron nor Harry could pull it off without me." She raised her chin a bit defiantly. Still, he could tell she was being truthful. So it wasn't them, which meant someone else was up to no good for a change.

"Very well. Get back to the tower. And don't forget that your essay for my class is due tomorrow. I expect nothing less than perfection."

She arched a brow and squared her shoulders. "And you shall have it." With a bit of a huff she turned and left his workroom.


	21. Chapter 21

A maze. That was what the Bloody Barron told her they were building on the pitch. Tricky business, that. The champions were learning about it even now, and she could just imagine the look on Harry and Cedric's faces when they saw what had been done to their beloved Quidditch arena. Bagman would be lucky to escape with his life. As for the third task, well, she would talk to Cedric about that when they got back to the castle. Likely he knew of a few good books he could recommend to her in her attempts to prepare Harry, and she was certain that he would have no problem with giving her the titles. He was being quite supportive of her efforts to get her friend through this in one piece.

Cedric's chivalry was worthy of a Gryffindor and helped her handle Krum a bit better. The Bulgarian champion was not happy and he did not bother to try and pretend to be. He had not liked that she had been the 'thing' Cedric would miss the most and had cornered him demanding to know what was between them. She could not believe the gossip mill, of course, because by the time the incident had reached her the boys were reported to have gotten into a vicious duel in the middle of the corridors, ending with both of them having to be rushed to the hospital wing, fighting for their lives. The ghosts, however, were far more reliable and assured her that Cedric had been a gentleman throughout it all, advising Krum that they had been good friends for almost two years now while not denying that he would not be adverse to having something more.

Hermione got the impression that the ghosts had already made up their minds which boy they preferred. They certainly sang Cedric's praises often enough. Which was a marked improvement over Rita Skeeter and the venom she continued to write about her. She really should not have lost her temper with her like she did. Harry had been correct that the woman would turn her quill on her. Now, instead of the 'stunningly pretty' girl who held the heart of Harry Potter (what rubbish) she was a plain, even ugly, harlot who was stringing, not just one, but three triwizard champions along. And her information was spot on. She really wished she knew how the bitch was doing it.

She shut the book in her hands with a snap, eyes narrowing. A whisper of cold brushed her skin, barely noticeable to her any longer. In fact, she even recognized it as easily as if she had seen his face. "Albert?"

The wispy form of Albert Halfcross, a former teacher at the school who had died some one hundred and fifty years before, floated towards her. "Yes, My Dear?"

"I need someone to keep an eye on that Skeeter cow for me. She's getting onto the school grounds and I want to know how she's doing it, but between classes trying to keep Harry in one piece, I don't have time to do it myself. Would you help me?"

The ghost looked positively delighted to be receiving a request from her directly. A stab of discomfort lanced through her at the expression on his face. Just as the files had described it; sycophantic. She could see why Kathryn would have been unsettled by how the dead responded to her. Only a warped, power-hungry madman would enjoy such attentions. Someone like Voldemort. "I would be honored to assist, Hermione. I shall suss out the secret and bring it back to you post haste."

She summoned a smile. "Thank you, Albert. That would be a great help to me." The ghost beamed and soared away, eager to start his quest. She waited until he had vanished through a wall before opening the book back up and tried to focus her mind on goblin rebellions. She did not have time to think about boys and jealousies. She had classes to concentrate on, OWLS next year and a best friend who might as well have a target painted on his back.

She had just gotten to the chapter about Yulgoth the Unkind when there was an odd shift in the cold static that was a near constant presence in the back of her mind. She almost discounted it, but it started a sort of chain reaction, which agitated the white noise that represented the voices of the Great Majority. Keeping her eyes on the page but no longer bothering to read the words there she sent her thoughts into the jumble of whispers in hopes of determining the cause of the change.

It was not entirely pleasant. It was rather like hands of ice snagging at her consciousness, begging for a bit of her time and huddling around the warmth that her life force gave off. Not pleasant at all, but she was growing oddly accustomed to the sensations and, at times, even comforted by it. Still, the press of minds was a little difficult to work through as she sifted through them. Finally a strangely familiar 'voice' surfaced in the din.

_"Should not have taken him out! Should have left him there! My fault! My fault! Got to warn Dumbledore!"_

The cold in the back of her mind seemed to shoot down to her stomach. She knew that pinched, highly stressed tone. In her mind she could see the immaculate, pinstriped robes and perfectly groomed mustache of Barty Crouch. _"Mr. Crouch? Can you hear me?"_

There was a pause. She could almost visualize the rules minded wizard looking around wildly. Still, she could feel the memory of him drifting closer to her, drawn towards her as she had noticed all of the Great Majority were. _"Who's there? Who are you?" _ Even though he was cautious she could feel him press close to her. About his thoughts she heard the others whispering to him, assuring him that everything was all right.

_"I'm Hermione Granger, Mr. Crouch. I'm a student here at Hogwarts."_ She had never had to talk to someone who was newly dead, and her instincts told her he was just now gone. Did he even know he was no longer alive? _"Mr. Crouch, what happened?"_

The impression that was Barty Crouch felt as though it flinched. _"I was murdered! Killed! I was trying to warn Dumbledore!"_

Hermione frowned, unaware that her hands had tightened on her book. _"Who did this to you, Mr. Crouch?"_

_"He did it! My son! My fault! All my fault!_" He became even more agitated and disjointed. He became difficult to understand, his sentences running together in a buzz. Hermione closed her book with a snap and tucked it into her satchel. Getting up from the window ledge where she had been seated to take advantage of the last dregs of sunlight she hurried off at a brisk pace. She needed to get to the headmaster and now.

She hurried through the halls until she came to the gargoyles flanking the way up to Dumbledore's office. Pausing for a moment she realized that she was missing an important item. Sending her thoughts out through the school, she sent a question. _"Does anyone know the password to the Headmaster's office?"_ An answer came whispering back to her and she gave an unconscious nod. "Cockroach Cluster." The gargoyles leapt aside and she hurried forward to take the moving staircase up to the landing. She heard voices inside and hesitated a moment before knocking on the door. The voices stopped and a moment later the headmaster was peeking out at her.

"Miss Granger? Is something the matter?"

She looked past his shoulder to see Professor Moody and the Minister of Magic. Stepping forward a bit she kept her voice low. "I need to talk to you, Sir. It's important."

Dumbledore peered into her eyes as if reading her thoughts before nodding. He turned back to his guests. "Minister, Alastor, if you would both excuse me for a moment. I should not be long." He stepped out of the office and shut the door behind him before motioning Hermione to walk with him to the edge of the landing. Lowering his voice he spoke to her in a tone that was barely audible over the grinding of the moving staircase. "What has happened, Miss Granger?"

Hermione kept her voice just as low. "It's Mr. Crouch, Headmaster. He's dead."

Dumbledore's brows rose. "Are you certain?"

She nodded. "Just recently from the feel of it. He goes on that he was murdered, but he's very agitated and, well, I'm not entirely certain he's stable. I can't make any sense of it all, but from what I felt when it happened I think he was very close to the school at the time. Physically speaking, I mean. Perhaps even on the grounds."

Dumbledore nodded, one hand worrying his beard. Hermione noticed that he had placed himself between her and the office door, likely so that even Professor Moody would not be able to see her or see their lips moving. "I see. This is disturbing news, Miss Granger. Disturbing news indeed." He pondered a bit longer. "Do you know… where his body is?"

Hermione blinked and thought a moment before shaking his head. "No, Sir, I don't. I suppose I could find him, though."

"Yes, that would be for the best. We will need to have his body before we can tell the others. I will send Fawkes to meet you on the grounds and you can send him back to me when you have located Mr. Crouch. Don't worry about how to explain matters. I'm certain I can come up with a plausible explanation as to how you came across the body without implicating you or endangering your secrets." He nodded, but more to himself. "However, you must be careful. I don't want you going onto the grounds unarmed. The killer may still be somewhere nearby. Be ready to fight if need be, and don't be afraid to run if it is the wiser course of action. Do I have your word you _will_ be careful?"

She nodded. "Yes, Headmaster, I will be careful."

"Good. Now, get to it and be alert. Fawkes will be waiting for you when you get outside."

She turned and made her way down the steps as the Headmaster returned to his office. The other girls might be in the room this late in the day, so she felt it wiser to actually get back the regular way. It took longer, and even with her physical conditioning she was breathing hard once she reached the top of the final staircase. Going through the portrait hole she spared only the slightest greeting for the few who called out to her. Ron was not present, likely waiting for Harry to come back in, so she was not worried about anyone holding her up. She claimed her wands from her trunk, slipping them into the bands of her knee socks under the boot cut of her jeans. Magical grounds meant potentially magical opponents. She needed to be ready to face them.

She was aware of a few odd stares as she headed back out almost as soon as she arrived, but she ignored them. Making her way back through the castle and out of a side door leading to a courtyard garden she found Fawkes waiting for her as promised. The phoenix seemed calm and serene in spite of their task. Now that she had her 'escort', she took a breath and reached out once more. _"Mr. Crouch, I need to find you. Can you lead me to where you are?"_

_"I must warn Dumbledore!"_

_"I know, Mr. Crouch, but we need to find where you are physically. I need you to lead me to your body."_

She thought she felt him sob, but there was a tug off towards the Forbidden Forest. A feeling of sympathy washed over her as she realized that he must be terrified still. He knew he was dead, but he still had not come to grips with it. _"My fault. All my fault! All of it!"_

She felt the others under the lawn as she walked over the grass, Fawkes gliding peacefully in lazy circles about her. Finally she came to where the edge of Hagrid's vegetable patch and the border of the forest met. He was _here_, somewhere. But he was so upset that she doubted he could tell her where he was. Did he even know? She pondered over it for a moment, the sound of Fang's barking from inside Hagrid's hut barely registering in her mind. Finally a thought came to her. _"Mr. Crouch, I'm right here. Can you come to me? Will you make yourself come to me?" _It should work, should it not? Mr. Turner said that Kathryn had been able to do it, so it should work. She kept her eyes open, trying to _feel_ the change.

Something pulled at her from off to her left. In the failing light she thought she saw the soft dirt at the edge of the vegetable patch moving as though something were trying to work its way out. Heart thudding in her chest she made her way over quickly. Fawkes came to rest on a fence post beside her as she kneeled down in the turned up earth. Something dry and white was trying desperately to reach the surface. She watched, torn between wanting to help and wanting to shrink away, until it made its way out and came to rest before her.

Hermione frowned. It was not a full body, or even a full skeleton, but a single bone. "Mr. Crouch?"

_"I am here! HERE! This is all there is to find!"_

But how could that be? Still, she knew in her gut that this _was_ Barty Crouch. She looked over her shoulder at the phoenix perched a few feet behind her. "Go get Dumbledore." The bird gave a slow dip of his head before he spread his scarlet wings and soared off towards the castle, leaving her with the bit of Barty. _"Did you see who attacked you?"_

_"It was my son! It was my own son! Should _never_ have smuggled him out! Should have left him there to rot! All my fault! All my fault!"_ He fell into near incoherent babbling again, enough so that Hermione thought it might make her head spin. She tried to calm him down but was unable to do so before the Headmaster appeared by her side.

Dumbledore peered down his long, crooked nose at the bleached bone. "You are certain that this is him, Miss Granger?" She nodded, her head beginning to throb from Crouch's incessant ranting. Dumbledore gave a 'hmm' and looked from the bone to the door of Hagrid's hut which was vibrating under the battering of Fang inside, who was still barking quite loudly.

The headmaster lifted his wand and pointed it at the door, which then flew open, letting Fang bound out. The massive dog loped over to where they were and tackled Hermione who was surprised to find herself flattened to the ground and given a tongue bath. "Fang! Cut it out!"

"It's quite all right, Miss Granger. Fang is going to be your alibi." Dumbledore raised his wand again and something silver shot out of the tip, sailing towards the castle. She was just managing to get back into a seated position when the Minister of Magic along with professors Moody, McGonagall and Snape arrived. Hermione glanced to the bone and found that the ground was now thoroughly trampled and upturned from Fang's exuberant affections, the bone tossed around a bit in the chaos. A prickle of guilt gnawed at her for the ill treatment of Mr. Crouch's body.

Fudge panted, almost out of breath. "What is it, Dumbledore? What has happened? You left in such a hurry!"

"My apologizes, Minister, but Fawkes indicated that there was something of a commotion out here and when I arrived Miss Granger was trying to calm down Hagrid's dog. He made quite a confusing discovery. Minerva, could you please take a look at this bone? It seems… off to me."

McGonagall arched a skeptical brow at him, but his expression remained serious. Hermione held Fang by his collar, thankful for the added strength her training had given her or else she was certain he might pull her arms from their sockets. She moved her head away from the dog's tongue again and caught sight of Moody who seemed to be watching her with a contemplative expression. Noticing her gaze he leaned on his cane to address her. "What were you doing out here alone, Miss Granger?"

She blinked at him, but Dumbledore answered for her. "Miss Granger was looking for Hagrid. She and her friends have been very supportive of our gamekeeper since that unfortunate article in the paper, Alastor. Of course," he added with a smile that was barely visible beneath his beard, "I do not believe she expected to be attacked by an over affectionate mastiff."

"I don't believe this is a bone, Albus. " McGonagall frowned, her wand hovering over the bit of bone, the tip glowing a faint purple. "It seems to be a transfigured object." She gave a flick of her wand and the spell was reversed. Suddenly the relatively small bone, barely a foot in length, grew into the larger, a very dead, figure of Barty Crouch. "Good Heavens!"

Fudge dropped his bowler hat, mouth agape. "It's Crouch! Dumbledore, that's Barty Crouch!"

"So it would appear, Minister." The headmaster bent over Crouch's motionless body as though trying to determine if it was genuine. "A most tragic turn of events, this is."

_"We've got you, Mr. Crouch. Everything will be fine."_

_"We've got to warn Dumbledore!"_

_"We will, Mr. Crouch, but we can't until he's alone. There are too many people here." _Hermione did her best not to look anything less than frightened at finding a dead body. She must have done a decent job of it because Professor McGonagall moved quickly to her side.

"Come away, Miss Granger. Come over here." Her head of house gently urged her several feet away from the wizards and turned her away from the scene, her arms lightly about her shoulders. "Everything will be fine. The headmaster will take care of everything. Do you want to sit down, or perhaps go to the hospital wing?"

She did not know why she might need to go to the hospital wing. She was not the one who was dead. Still, perhaps it would be best if she were not in the area. She did not like the looks that Moody kept sending her way. As if reading her thoughts the Headmaster spoke up. "I agree, Minerva. Please return Miss Granger to the school. Doubtless this has been a great shock to her." Severus came forward and took Fang off her hands. The mastiff whined after her as McGonagall walked her up to the castle.

* * *

"This could not have happened at a worse possible time." Fudge had managed to hold his tongue until after St. Mungos had come to take the body away. "There are already hints and allegations of cheating and attempts to manipulate the outcome of the tournament." 

"I doubt very much that Barty's killer stopped to consider convenience when he struck him down, Cornelius." Severus stood apart from the rest of the group, his hands folded as he observed. Sometimes he marveled at Dumbledore's patience when dealing with Fudge. The man was worthless.

"Now, see here, Albus! Who said anything about murder?"

Moody peered at the Minister. "The man was transfigured into a bone and hidden under a vegetable patch. Why else would that have been done? Clearly the killer was trying to cover his tracks." The ex-auror looked over at Albus. "That Granger girl is supposed to be top of her class in Transfigurations, isn't she?"

That got Severus' attention. He hardly realized he had taken a step forward, his hands fisting at his side. "Just what are you implying, Moody?"

The scarred man turned to glare at him, the magical eye fixed and staring at him as though trying to see into his very soul. "I'm just reminded of an old saying, Snape. One that deals with apples and how far they fall from trees. There's a lot of shady wizards in your bloodline, yourself included."

Fudge sputtered as Severus took another step towards Moody, his lips curling into a sneer. "If you are insinuating that Hermione had _anything _to do…"

"Severus." It was a single word, spoken with firmness and enough to make him stop. Albus stepped forward to place himself between the two wizards who were still glaring at one another. "Alastor, I do not believe that Miss Granger has it in her to commit murder. The skill, yes, but not the desire nor the lack of conscience it requires. And I have every confidence that she would disclose the identity of Barty's killer if she knew it. She is simply a young girl who has had a trying evening, and as her Headmaster I must go check on her well-being. Minister, if you would pardon me, but I should have Severus escort you to the gate while I go up to the hospital wing and see how our young lady is coping."

"Headmaster, I feel I should be there. As her father…"

"You can speak with her later, Severus. Right now I need you to see the Minister safely back to his carriage." Albus gave him a firm nod, his eyes lacking their usual twinkle as he turned to head out of the office. Severus pulled his robes more tightly about him and gave Moody a scathing look, still fuming over the barely veiled accusations against Hermione, but did as the headmaster requested.

* * *

It was not easy carrying on two conversations at once, especially when one of the people involved was yammering on like a madman. Fortunately Madam Pomfrey seemed to write her lack of attention off to stress from the events of the evening. She was to stay in the hospital wing for the night, under sedation, which was being held off until the Headmaster could come speak with her. So for the time being she lay in the narrow hospital bed with her eyes staring up at the ceiling without actually seeing anything, letting Mr. Crouch twist and turn inside her head. 

"It's all right, Poppy. I'll call you if we need you."

She pushed herself up onto her elbows as Dumbledore drew nearer. The mediwitch gave her one last concerned look before hurrying to her office and shutting the door behind her, leaving them alone. "Professor."

Dumbledore pulled a chair up beside her bed and sat down, his eyes watching her closely as though studying an interesting specimen. "And how is the conversation going?"

She sighed and rubbed at her head. "Not well. He's quite mad, but I think that may be a hold over from having unforgiveables cast against him. Some cruciatus, but I believe the bulk of his problem is from the imperious curse with a strong helping of self-loathing and guilt." She dropped her hand on the bed. "He claims his son killed him."

The headmaster frowned. "His son? Barty Jr. is believed to have died in Azkaban a long time ago."

Hermione shook her head. "From what I can gather, Mr. Crouch smuggled his son out of prison. He made a couple of references about his wife dying, and I think the two are linked somehow, but every time I try to find out why he starts repeating 'my fault' over and over again. And he keeps saying that you need to be warned, but so far all I can piece together is that he wants to warn you that his son is out and free." She frowned. "Does that make any sense to you, Sir?"

Dumbledore sat back in his chair and nodded. "More than I would like, Miss Granger. You see, Barty Jr. was a Death Eater, one of Voldemort's inner circle. He was with the LeStranges when they tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom." She gasped and he nodded. "Mr. Longbottom's parents. Bellatrix LeStrange tortured them with the cruciatus curse until permanent damage was done. Like Mr. Crouch, they are mentally unbalanced. They reside still in St. Mungos, though I would thank you not to tell anyone else that bit of information. If Neville wishes his parents' fate to be known to the world in general it should be his choice to disclose it. I trust you with this because I believe you have become rather adept at keeping secrets over these past two years."

She swallowed and nodded. "Yes, Sir." Her fingers curled into the bed sheet. "Professor, if Barty Jr. killed his father, then how did he get on and off the grounds with out us knowing?"

"That, Miss Granger, I cannot be certain of, but I would welcome your assistance in trying to find out why. Would you be so kind as to ask your good friends to help keep an extra close watch on the grounds? Perhaps they will see something mortal eyes do not." She nodded and he smiled. "Thank you, but you can hold off until morning of course. I believe it is now time for you to allow Madam Pomfrey to do her job and worry over you until you are sufficiently recovered from tonight's events."

Hermione made a face and sent up a hope that the potion waiting for her would at least be palatable. Dumbledore gave her hand a gentle pat as he rose from the chair. "And I do thank you for your prompt actions this evening, Miss Granger. You were of greater help than you know. Is there anything I can do for you in return?"

She was going to say no, but then recalled something. "Just one thing, Professor." Peering at the door to the mediwitch's office to make certain it was still shut, she bent over to retrieve something from the folds of her uniform where she had placed it under her bed. Turning back to the headmaster she held out her twin double wands. "Could you keep these safe for me, Sir? I don't want to have to explain them to anyone if they're seen."

Dumbledore gave her an understanding smile and a nod before accepting the wands and tucking them into a hidden pocket of his robes. "Pleasant dreams, Miss Granger. I will see you at breakfast in the morning."


	22. Chapter 22

Hermione blinked up at Albert who was positively beaming. "Really?" The ghost nodded in affirmation. "But she's not allowed. She's _definitely_ not allowed."

"I know. Not on the registry at all, which is why no one has suspected."

A grin threatened to split her face in two. "Thank you, Albert. That is truly excellent detective work." The ghost preened under the praise before sailing off, leaving an excited, and someone vengeful, Hermione behind him. Oh that witch was going to_pay_! Especially after that vicious story she had printed in today's paper. The sheer, unadulterated nerve!

She dropped her books off in the dorms and lingered behind until Lavender and Parvati had gone down before turning to her trunk. Tonight was the night of the Third Task and, if their hunch about someone making a play for Harry was correct, the culprit would likely make his move this evening. That being the case she thought it best to travel prepared. She chose her clothing carefully with a loose t-shirt that would disguise her clever holster she had made for her dueling wands. It was leather lined with soft cotton to rest against her skin and would hold them at an angle against her back with the ends easily reachable in a pinch. A light jacket over the top would hide the bulges so that no one would see them. As long as she did not attempt any acrobatics while wearing them she should move relatively freely.

Soon, dressed and armed, she hurried down to join Harry and Ron in the Great Hall, only to find Bill and Mrs. Weasley already there. She slowed a bit, recalling the rather small Easter egg she had received from the usually warm and motherly person. From Molly's tepid response to her greeting she was guessing that things still were not ideal. Thankfully Harry cottoned on quickly enough and assured Mrs. Weasley that Hermione was not his girlfriend and that those horrible lies in the _Prophet_ were not to be believed.

"Besides," Harry added with a laugh, "I'm not foolish enough to take on Cedric." She looked over at him with a frown and found her best friend smirking at her. She was about to say something when the twins and Ginny started making kissing noises in her direction.

"I hate all of you." There was no heat behind the words, but her saying them seemed to make Bill laugh. A flash of pale silver from the Ravenclaw table caught her eye and she glanced over to see that Fleur Delacour had turned to look at Bill at the sound of his laughter, her expression one of strong interest. How… cute.

Lunch was almost like being back at the Burrow with all the Weasleys there. All that was missing was the interior of Molly's delightfully chaotic and cozy kitchen. And, away from her husband and surrounded by the nostalgia of school, Molly was admitting to acts of mischief that she would have never thought the woman capable of. Suddenly how Fred and George could be her children made so much more sense.

Eventually the happy bubble had to pop as the time to go down to the pitch loomed over them. Harry had been cheered by their time together, but Hermione could see the nervousness in his eyes. She offered him a reassuring smile, resisting the urge to slip her hand under her shirt and run her fingers over the wood of one of her wands. Harry and Ron did not know about them. No one living did save her, Dumbledore, Mr. Ollivander and Cedric. She rose from the table and went with the others to go claim a seat in the stands so they could watch.

As she walked she met Cedric's eyes across the room and gave him a smile as well. He had been the consummate Hufflepuff since construction on the maze had begun. He had come through with the books and had even joined them for practice sessions so that Harry would have a more advanced opponent with whom to train. It was against the rules, of course, but if anyone knew what they were doing no one saw fit to scold them for it. She saw Cedric talk to a handsome woman who had his eyes, most likely his mother, and tilt his head in her direction. Mrs. Diggory looked over and gave her an appraising once over, a slight smile touching her lips.

For some reason, Hermione blushed and felt the urge to look away. Unfortunately, she turned around and looked right at Viktor and his parents. The Bulgarian champion was apparently also discussing her with his mother. Now she was getting the urge to hurry out of the castle. She walked with Ginny and Molly down to the pitch, the rest of the Weasleys chatting excitedly behind them.

The stands were wild, the chanting and cheers of the crowd deafening. Hermione took up a seat between Ginny and Ron, all three of them finding it difficult to sit still. Amos Diggory was down on the pitch with Cedric, looking so proud he might split his robes from how far his chest was puffed out. She tried to suppress a grin at the embarrassed flush to Ced's cheeks. He always felt awkward when his father was on one of his 'see-how-great-my-son-is' jaunts. She watched as Harry scooted over towards Cedric a few feet and got his attention. The taller boy leaned over to hear whatever it was her friend wanted to say to him. She could not read Harry's lips from here, but whatever it was caused Cedric to take a playful swipe at his head. The laughing smiles on both their faces assured her that it was not anything too terrible, though Ced's blush had deepened.

The cannon sounded and Harry and Cedric entered the maze. Suddenly all the jesting and joking was over, or at least it was for her and the Weasleys. Their eyes focused on the walls of the maze, waiting and hoping that Harry would come out all right. As for her, she was hoping that Harry got through this in one piece and that Cedric won. A little treacherous of her, she supposed, but she simply could not make herself feel any different.

* * *

It was not because of Hermione. Krum had not attacked him over Hermione. At least, Harry kept insisting that was the case. Cedric still had his doubts, because he knew that the Bulgarian would have quite cheerfully killed him if he thought he could get away with it. But that was no longer a concern as Harry had stunned Krum and they had left him to be retrieved. Now the problem was that Harry was down with an injured leg and the cup was only a few feet away.

How he wanted that cup! He wanted to be the winner, but that part of him that his teachers praised, that part of him that made him prefect and gave him a good shot at Head Boy next year would not let him reach out and take it. Not even with Harry telling him to do so. As young as he was, Harry was the better wizard. True, he might be more advanced, but that was just because he had been born a couple of years earlier. By the time Harry reached seventeen, Cedric was certain he would be every bit as gifted if not more so.

"Together, then."

"What?"

Harry was looking at him. "We take it at the same time. It's still a Hogwarts victory."

He almost said 'no', but they were at a stalemate. It was just the two of them left, now that Delacour and Krum were out. But Harry felt that he should win because he was able bodied and Cedric felt Harry should win because he was the better champion.

"C'mon, Ced. You know I would not have gotten this far without Hermione. Even you helped this last bit! You could have made it this far on your own but even if I take the cup we still both won it."

He swallowed and nodded his agreement, helping Harry to his feet and over to the pedestal. "On three, then. One. Two." They grabbed the handles of the cup at the same time and Cedric felt the pull behind his navel of a port key. The scene swirled about them as they were hurled through space before being unceremoniously dumped onto cold, hard earth. It took them both a moment to catch their breath and a bit longer for Harry to get over the sudden jolt of pain in his leg from the landing. Cedric looked around them, confused. No stands. No crowds. Just… headstones? They had landed in a cemetery somewhere, but not anywhere that he recognized.

"Harry, you okay?" He heard a grunt from the younger boy and took it to mean that he was at least functional. "Did anyone tell you that the cup was a port key?"

"No idea."

"Is this still part of the task, then?" He did not think so, but he could hope. Harry shook his head in the negative. "So, wands out, then." They both palmed their wands and looked about cautiously. He was really starting to doubt his stance that Harry's inclusion in the tournament had been a Slytherin House prank as Hermione's worry that someone was targeting the boy gained credence. Could this have all been a plot to kidnap Harry Potter?

His eyes scanned the area, taking note of the large cauldron that had been set up inside the graveyard. Just then Harry gave a hiss of pain and clutched at his forehead. It distracted Cedric for the briefest moment, but he managed not to miss the addition of a new person into the general area. Someone was approaching them. He raised his wand and kept his voice steady. "Who goes there? What do you want?" He heard Harry yell at him to get back to the cup just before a high, unnaturally cold voice rang out, "Kill the spare!"

He really could not be blamed for freezing as he did, though Cedric did curse himself for his slowness. He was a student, after all, and like most young people had been protected by his parents and teachers most of his life. Unlike Harry, he had never been forced to face a world where people tried to do you harm and would attack young strangers who were just barely adults. It truly had not seemed real to him that someone would send something as vile as the killing curse his way, and yet that was what had happened. A weak voice speaking the incantation. A flash of sickly-green light and a rush of wind. He was vaguely aware that his body had been lifted from the ground, but he did not feel it as his body hit the ground.

Suddenly everything was very dark and very cold. Cedric knew he had been murdered, but he could not quite wrap his mind around the concept of it. The first thought that came to him was that he had never plucked up the courage to kiss Hermione, which he found to be very badly done of him. The next thought was that all of this, the tournament, truly had been an elaborate plot to get to Harry Potter, and now the fourth year was left to deal with his unknown killer on his own. That troubled Cedric, because he really did wonder how a boy of fourteen was supposed to hold his own against a man capable of killing another person in cold blood.

He became aware of the whispers all about him in the darkness. Voices were speaking together in hushed, stressed tones. They were aware that there were people in the graveyard, could feel the weight of their steps on the soil, and they were aware of the cauldron. That seemed to upset them the most, the presence of that cauldron, as if they knew that it meant magic was to be done there this night.

"You are new," came a voice, and Cedric knew it was directed at him. "Who is here? What are they doing?" The questions were frantic. Frightened.

"I don't know who it is, but he means harm. He killed me, and he has Harry, the boy I was with! I got caught up in his plot to grab him. I think he means to kill him, too!"

The whispers became more agitated. Cedric could almost feel the anxiety, which struck him as odd because he did not think that dead people were supposed to feel. But he felt their terror, and he felt the icy cold of another… person? He was cold. This place was cold. But the new arrival was colder and very, very angry. He could hear the snarl in her voice as she spoke.

"Shit-Fire-Mother-Fucking-Damn! Diggory!"

He frowned, or at least he would have had he still been living. "Who's there? Do I know you?" He did not recognize the woman's voice.

"I know you. Fuck! This is going to distract her."

The voices around them grew more frantic now that the new voice had arrived, but they seemed to be beseeching her. "There are wizards in our home! _Necromancers!_ Make them leave!"

"They'll maim us!"

"They'll hurt us!"

"Get rid of them!"

"They have a boy! The new one says they have a boy and intend to kill him, too!"

"QUIET!" The unknown woman seemed to be thinking. "They'll leave, and in pieces if we're very lucky. Hold tight. I know where she is. I'll go get her." And just like that, the angry presence was gone.

Cedric listened to the buzzing whispers around him, still not quite certain what was going on or what dead people thought they could do to stop the wizard who had killed him. "I'm sorry, but who is she going to get?"

The voices seemed to huddle towards him, as though they thought they would be safe if they stuck together. Though they were all cold with death, their icy presence made him uncomfortable.

"The Keogh. She's gone to bring us the Keogh."

"She will make them leave."

"She will kill them."

"The Keogh will make everything right."

* * *

Something twisted in the back of her mind. She felt pain, but it was not in her mind. It was in her chest. She felt as though a strong hand had reached in and gripped her heart before crushing it. Tears sprang to her eyes and she could not for the life of her figure out why."

"Hermione? Are you all right?" Ginny peered at her with undisguised worry. Thinking quickly, she rubbed the back of her head.

"Just a headache, Gin, sudden like." She winced as she massaged the base of her skull. "I just need to get out of the noise for a bit. Maybe visit the lav."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, thank you. I'll be fine." She mustered a smile for her friend before getting to her feet. Ron looked up in askance, but moved his legs so that she could slip out of the stands. Still holding her head, though that was not the part of her that was hurting, she hurried up three steps to the opening that allowed her to slip back out of the stands.

She made her way under the bleachers until she could lean against the support structures underneath. What was wrong with her? Why did she feel like this? She felt as though her heart had been torn from her chest and desperately wanted to go somewhere where she could cry for days without people seeing her. Why did she suddenly feel so sad?

She covered her face with her hands and forced herself to take deep lungfuls of air. Faintly, as though from far away, she heard a familiar voice. As it drew closer it grew in strength and clarity until she knew it was Kathryn. _"Hermione! Hermione you must come with me! We need you!"_

She blinked through the tears. _"Come with you? Kathryn, they're in the middle of the Third Task. Harry and Cedric could be back any minute. Fleur was attacked and Viktor was brought out unconscious. They've got aurors on him! I can't just leave."_

_"The boys aren't in there anymore! They've been taken! Harry needs you!"_

She froze, her pain shoved back to make room for the shock. "Moved?" It was an audible whisper as she momentarily forgot that the conversation was only heard by her. _"What about Cedric?"_

Kathryn said nothing at first, as though weighing her words. Then, finally, _"Harry needs you, Hermione. You have to hurry!"_

Her stomach clenched in dread, but she pushed herself away from the support pole. Her mind called up the equations and she saw the portal of dark light open to her right. She was reaching under her shirt and pulling out her wands even as she threw herself into it. The familiar scene of endless space with its countless threads of light welcomed her and she paused only a moment to get her bearings before following Kathryn's presence away from the school. Speeding through all points in space and time at once, she stopped at a strangely tight gathering of threads so pale they could only belong to those already passed. Knowing she was at the right place, she called open another door and stepped out, crouching low the second her feet touched earth.

She was in a cemetery, but given the size of the knot inside the Continuum, this was hardly surprising. She kept low as she slunk behind the headstones, moving towards a pale spot of light from where she heard voices. A cold, high voice was waxing on about something. She drew close enough to hear and realized that he was narrating a different point of view as to what had happened after the attack on Harry's family so long ago. A little closer and she could make out a circle of robed wizards surrounding a gaunt, pale, snakelike visage.

_"Voldemort!"_ It had to be him. Her eyes darted over to where Harry was held to a gravestone, looking in pale and in pain. _"It has to be Voldemort, but how?"_

A voice filtered towards her. _"He stole my bone! They stole my bone and blood from that boy and used them to give him a new body? Is he really my son? They said I was his father, but my son's name was Tom Riddle, not Voldemort."_

Hermione felt sick. _"Yes, Mr. Riddle, I'm afraid that is your son."_

_"Hermione?"_ Her breath froze._"Hermione? Is that you?"_

Her eyes scanned over the dimly light area where the wizards stood until they found a figure in yellow and black lying motionless on the ground. She gasped, her hand flying up so that she could bite down on her wrist rather than scream and be heard._"CEDRIC!"_ Cedric was dead! Funny, clever, beautiful Cedric. She heard Kathryn hiss like an angry cat inside her head.

_"FOCUS! It's too late to do anything about him! Keep your head on straight!"_

_"Hermione, listen to me. You have to get out of here! These people will kill you if they can. Grab Harry if you're able, but you must get to safety!"_

She couldn't move. She could barely breathe. This was why the sudden wave of sorrow had crashed over her. Kathryn had told her that you felt death more strongly the more feelings you had for a person. She had felt Cedric Diggory die and she had mourned the loss even though she had been unable to name it. Now the pain was on her again, strong and fresh and paralyzing even with Kathryn screeching at her. _"Get a hold of yourself! Now is not the time to have a breakdown! He's dead! That's just how it is!"_

Inside her head she heard the other minds in the graveyard start to buzz fiercely. They pressed in on her like a blanket made of ice, wrapping about her. She made out snippets here and there, fleeting and transitory. _"Her heart is breaking."_

_"She knew him, the new one."_

_ "She loves him."_

_"They are both breaking."_

_ "How long has it been? Too long?"_

_"Still seconds, perhaps, but not many. It might be done."_

_ "It's been done before."_

Kathryn's voice cut through the din like a knife. _"It will _**_not_**_ be done! It is not your place!"_

Hermione's knees were shaking, her legs wanting to collapse on her. She had to fight through this! She had to keep focused if she was going to get Harry out of here alive. She would take Cedric back, too, of course. His parents deserved to be able to give their son a proper burial, and she did not want to run the risk that Voldemort might have a wizard who would use the dead for ill purposes. The thought of Cedric being defiled in such a way twisted her gut.

_"Hermione? What's happening? What are they going on about?"_

She shook her head, still trying to get control of herself when the voices spoke again. _"We can do it, Keogh. It was done before, for your grandfather. His mother failed when bringing him into the world, but a child needs his mother. There's not much time. The body is cooling."_

_"What do you mean? Do what?"_

Kathryn was firm and unyielding. _"Hermione, no! It is not your place to interfere. He is gone. I know it hurts, but Cedric is dead. Let him go."_

_"We can put him back."_

Hermione froze, her fingers convulsing on the centerpieces of her wands. All sound seemed to have fled the area save for that inside her mind. _"Put him back?"_

_"Yes! YES! But it must be now! His body is cooling. Much longer and it will not work!"_

_"Hermione, do not do this!"_

_"Hermione?"_ Cedric's voice was filled with confusion and disorientation. He was very much like Mr. Crouch just now, aware that he was dead but not having fully wrapped his mind about the concept just yet. And still Cedric. Still worried about her safety and that of Harry's rather than bemoaning his deceased state.

Her eyes were still pinned to his body, his beautiful face looking up at the stars in the night sky. He looked perfect and unmarred, his gray eyes glassy and blank. She licked her lips and uttered a soft whisper. "Do it."

The cold blanket surrounding her seemed to whip away as if torn free by unseen hands. She could almost see and hear the maelstrom as the members of the Great Majority here in this little graveyard gathered up their numbers, sweeping Cedric's memory with them. It was like being caught in a tunnel with a freight train, deafening to the point that her ears might bleed, but she could not bring herself to cover them with her hands. It would likely do little good were she to do so anyway.

She felt the rush of minds and thoughts swirl back down, rushing towards Cedric's motionless form. Then, as though kicked, his body gave a violent jerk. Hermione's body flinched in reaction, her eyes wide. She watched him closely, afraid to breathe as she waited. Then his chest expanded with such force that his back bowed from the effort, his hands flexing and eyes widening enough that she could see the whites of them illuminated by the light from the cauldron fire. He was breathing again, something that dead people no longer needed to do.

And then Cedric Diggory screamed.


	23. Chapter 23

Harry's skull felt as though it would split wide open, and he knew it was because he was this close physically to Voldemort. He was finding it difficult to think through the pain and was just managing. With every passing moment his fear grew, as did his understanding that he needed to get free and run. He needed to get back to the port key before he was killed just like…

… just like Cedric. Noble, heroic Cedric who had been willing to walk away from victory because he felt that Harry deserved it more. Cedric, who just before entering the maze Harry had teased by suggesting that his father likely would not mind if he dashed up to the stands to steal a good luck kiss from Hermione. Cedric who was more popular and more well thought of than Harry had ever been, but who was now gone. Struck down by Wormtail, the same man who had betrayed James and Lily Potter so long ago.

Another family destroyed by Voldemort. Amos Diggory was so proud of his son, as though not quite believing that he had fathered such a clever and talented boy. And Harry did not doubt that his mother loved him just as much. And poor Hermione! His clever friend was so bent on getting good grades and helping him through the tasks that she never stopped to admit that she did fancy the other champion. He had thought that once this was all over she might finally slow down enough that Ced would finally be able to bring her around. He knew Ron would bristle at it, but he had always figured that Ron's feelings towards Hermione were in truth much like his own; brotherly. It had been his belief that Cedric would be a good match to Hermione. Someone who shared her love of learning and adhered to the rules, but more easy going about it all.

Voldemort was still talking, boasting about how he had come to get his new body as Harry struggled against his bindings. He needed to get free. He had to get out of here before Voldemort killed him. Now would be a good time, while he was still yammering on about his successes. If he could just manage to get free!

He thought he saw movement from the corner of his eye, but could not turn his head to look. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking on his part, but he thought he had seen Cedric's body move. It had to be the stress and strain of the moment, but he still rolled his eyes in that direction until they hurt from the strain, watching.

There it was again, the bright yellow of Cedric's shirt seeming to surge upwards as if he were taking a deep breath. And then the air was filled with the most horrible sound. A long, loud scream, filled with agony and torment.

Voldemort stopped talking as he and all the Death Eaters turned their heads in surprise. Harry saw him take a curious step towards Diggory, his robes rustling over the bare earth. "I believe you did not quite hit your mark, Wormtail. The boy still lives. How remarkable." He took another step towards Cedric.

"You leave him alone!" Harry struggled harder against the bonds, but his shout had drawn Voldemort's attention.

"Harry! I had almost forgotten you were there! Don't worry, I'll be with you soon enough. Right now, however, I need to put this poor boy out of his misery. I imagine a failed killing curse must be quite agonizing."

The thought of having to watch Cedric die a second time sickened him. Harry struggled harder. "No! Keep away from him!" He saw Voldemort raise his wand up, but before he could bring it down a jet of bright blue light shot out from somewhere in the darkness, cutting across his spider-like hand and leaving a bloody gash there.

Voldemort howled in surprise and pain. Cedric forgotten, he whirled towards the direction the spell had come from. The Death Eaters followed suit, drawing their wands. For a brief moment there was nothing more, but then the gloom was pierced by a flurry of spells, all headed towards Voldemort and those Death Eaters closest to him. They answered by sending their own spells into the darkness, towards the spot the attack had hailed from.

Everything fell silent as the spells died off. Had they hit the attacker. They were all watching, cautious, but nothing else happened. "Lucius, go and see who…" He was interrupted as another volley of spells came at them, but this time from an entirely different direction. Two of the Death Eaters were knocked down, crying out in pain. The others managed to throw up shield spells just in time. Harry tried to peer out into the darkness to see who was there, but just as soon as the spells lit the darkness, the gloom swallowed the wizard back up again, giving him on a glimpse of a shadowed silhouette.

"Who is there! Show yourself!" Voldemort kept his wand at the ready, now turned away from Harry and Cedric, who had stopped screaming but was still moving off to the side. "I demand to know who is there!"

His only answer was another volley of spells, and from yet another location. This time, however, there was no break of silence. As soon as the Death Eaters had turned to face the new attack, one of them falling as the previous two managed to get back onto their feet, another set of spells came from another location. The attacker, or attackers, kept the volleys random in number, spell type and direction, and pushed things to such a rapid pace that the Death Eaters barely had enough time to throw up defensive charms before things changed again.

He saw a jet of light come towards him, but it missed by a few inches. Powdered marble and concrete from the headstone to which he was bound flew off and he felt his restraints slacken a bit. Harry's heart gave a little jolt. He continued to watch the frantic scene before him and, after a round of three spells from the left followed by a round of five from somewhere off to the right, another jet of light shot out and struck at his bindings again. The mysterious attacker was cutting him loose! Using the excitement and disorientation of the moment to get him free without being noticed. Another few volleys and another bolt of light, and the rest of his restraints fell free.

Harry forced himself not to cry out as he rolled over onto his injured leg, his hand feeling the ground until he found his wand where it had fallen. Clutching it in his hand, he kept low to the ground as he scrambled towards Cedric. The older boy had managed to roll over onto his side and was trying to get to his hands and knees. Harry saw a good deal of blood on his chin and felt a stab of fear shoot through him, but as he drew closer he realized that Cedric had bitten through his bottom lip to keep from crying out again. His skin was waxy and slick from sweat. Agony was etched into his face and Harry realized it was taking a great amount of determination and self-will for him not to pass out.

"Cedric, can you hear me?" Diggory forced open his eyes and peered back at Harry. He nodded, his body shaking. Harry felt around the ground and found his wand. Finding it he put it into the other boy's hand. Cedric's fingers closed around it automatically. "We have to get you out of here."

"H… Hermione." He tried to move again, tried to get his knees under him so he might get up, but Harry stopped him.

"She's back at Hogwarts." Cedric shook his head. "We're not at the school any more, Cedric. The cup was a portkey. We have to get it to get back."

The combat continued with the Death Eaters unable to tell where their attackers were. They managed a few hexes, but mainly they were kept on the defensive, forced to keep watch and try to keep up with each change of direction. Voldemort let out an angry snarl, his cold, high voice calling out into the gloom. "**Keogh!"**

Everything fell silent and the shadows ceased to be illuminated by spells. The Death Eaters kept their wands at the ready, mindful of another attack. Harry swallowed and watched them, not certain he should move now that the noise and confusion that had been shielding him had stopped. Voldemort was turning slowly in place. "Show yourself, Witch!" Harry frowned. Clearly he knew who his attacker was, and he did not sound at all happy. In fact, he thought he might detect a hint of trepidation in the wizard's voice.

Voldemort continued to turn until his examination brought him around to his father's headstone. He stopped, red eyes flaring as he saw the damaged marble and severed bindings, and no sign of Harry. He swung his head around again and found him where he crouched, one arm on Cedric's back, looking back into his eyes. "Potter!"

Harry's wand hand shot out. "Accio Cup!" The portkey sailed into his hand as his fingers bunched into Cedric's tunic. There was a jerk behind his navel and they were pulled away even as another volley of spells came out of the darkness to cut Voldemort off from advancing towards them. They were caught up in a spinning vortex but Harry was still too high on adrenaline and fear to feel any of the usual queasiness he got from magical travel. Not nearly soon enough they landed back in the arena.

* * *

_"Where is he?"_

_"Where is who?"_ Hermione had ducked back into the Continuum the moment Harry and Cedric were away. She was still there, floating in the dark light while trying to wrap her mind around what had just happened.

_"His thread! Voldemort's thread! I can't find it!"_

She frowned and started to examine the threads still concentrated around the 'point' of the graveyard. Mulciber. Knott. Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy. She could identify them readily enough, and it helped that they were all still where she had left them, but she saw Kathryn's dilemma. She could not find a bright strand that belonged to Voldemort. Or one that belonged to Tom Riddle for that matter. She found the faded strand of the late Tom Riddle, but there was no sign of the one that would help them track his son._"But that makes no sense. He has to have a thread, doesn't he? I mean, he exists."_

_"That would be the general rule."_

But something else was bothering Hermione. _"How did he know to call out 'Keogh'? And how did he know he was fighting a witch and not a wizard? Did you fight him?"_

She felt Kathryn's frown. _"No, and I never used wands. You're the witch, not me. It makes no sense."_

_"Like the people under the lawn. They said someone asked them to move from the cemetery in Hogsmede to the school decades ago. Are you certain that I'm the only witch in the family?"_

_"There have only been four of us in all! And two of those were men!" _Kathryn made an impatient noise, clearly not happy to have this odd little mystery on their hands.

Hermione finally felt herself calming a bit, which made her thoughts turn to Harry and Cedric. _"The school!"_ She turned on the spot and threw herself forward, moving along the path until she could open the door under the bleachers again. She stepped out and paused, straining her ears to hear what was going on above her. The crowd was oddly restrained, but she could feel an undercurrent of tension here. What was going on?

She moved out from under the stands, exiting through a gap in the scaffolding and running behind it towards the school. Stopping just as she was where she could see, she just saw Dumbledore levitating what looked to be the end of a stretcher with a pair of booted feet showing, the rest of it already through the doors. Mr. and Mrs. Diggory were right behind him, clearly worried. A bit of movement further along caught her eye and she glanced over to see Professor Moody helping Harry inside. She relaxed a bit, knowing her friend would be in good hands for the time being. Besides, Moody likely needed to know what had transpired after the portkey had taken them.

She was about to push off from the wall and follow when something crawling along a stone ledge not to far from her caught her attention. Hermione's eyes narrowed, anger lancing through her. She palmed her wands together in the same hand before bringing her now free hand in a cupping motion over an interesting looking beetle. The insect's wings buzzed in alarm against her skin as she leaned over to whisper to it. "Oh no you don't! I've had just about enough of you!"

She sent a silent summoning charm to get a specimen jar from Severus storeroom. It sailed from the school and she caught it against her belly. Setting it down onto the stones she used her wand to unscrew the ventilated lid before grabbing up some random sticks and leaves and tossing them inside. Satisfied she cast an unbreakable charm on the glass before picking up the beetle and dropping her inside. She screwed the lid back on quickly before picking the jar up and lifting it to eye level. The beetle with its eyeglass shaped markings seemed to be glaring right back at her.

Hermione only smirked. Grabbing up the jar she hurried inside the castle and practically ran all the way back to Gryffindor Tower. She hurried up the stairs to the dorms and deposited the jar on her closed trunk. "I'll deal with you later," she told the bug before giving the glass a firm thump, not caring if it caused a loud ringing inside the makeshift habitat.

_"Why are you wasting your time collecting bugs now?"_

Hermione hurried back out the dorms and a near run. She needed to get to the hospital wing. _"That's Rita Skeeter. I set one of the ghosts on her to find out how she was getting onto the grounds without being seen and they found that she's an unregistered animagus. I wanted to get her out of the way before she saw too much."_

Kathryn made no response as she continued to hurry towards the hospital wing. Her heart threatened to tear itself out of her chest it was hammering that hard. Her feet nearly skidded out from under her as she turned a corner a bit too sharply, but she recovered just in time to be caught up by a firm hand. "Miss Granger!"

She stopped and looked up into the wizened face of Albus Dumbledore. The Headmaster peered down at her curiously. Several yards behind him were the closed doors of the hospital wing. She saw silhouettes moving back and forth through the frosted glass of the doors, but she continued to stare at them as if she thought she could see through them to spy Cedric. She heard him however. Just then he let out another pain filled scream. It sounded so much worse now, with all the walls and hard surfaces to echo back from. She gave a gasp, her entire body flinching in reaction.

Dumbledore gripped her shoulders and made her look up at him again. He studied her eyes for a moment before pulling her into an abandoned room off to the side. "Miss Granger, I need you to tell me what happened tonight. Everything you know."

She looked at the shut door, then back to the headmaster. "They were taken to a graveyard. The cup was a port key. Kathryn… she called for me and told me they were there and that I needed to come. When I got there, he was back. The Dark Lord was back. They had Harry bound to a grave stone and there were Death Eaters standing around him while he told them how he got there. And Cedric." Her stomach lurched and she forced herself to take a breath. "Cedric was dead."

Dumbledore's gaze widened a bit. "Dead, Miss Granger?"

She nodded, forcing a swallow. "He was dead. I could hear him with the others. I… I froze. I couldn't act straight. I just couldn't get past him lying there. Not moving." She closed her eyes and shook her head in dismay. "I bungled everything! All my training and practice and I screwed it all up!" Cedric screamed again and Hermione's hand flew to her mouth as her stomach threatened to rebel on her. She did not even notice the two double wands she still held until Dumbledore snatched them from her grip and slipped them into his sleeve for safe keeping.

"What happened to Mr. Diggory, Miss Granger?"

"The others. They… put him back." She swallowed down the bile in her throat. "They said that it had been done before and that he wasn't so far gone that he could not be put back. Kathryn was yelling at me not to do it, but I… I couldn't leave him like that. I told them to put him back and he came to. And then he started screaming." Her eyes burned with tears. "I did this to him! I did this!" Another scream made it through both the hospital doors and the door of the side room, and she could not keep from sobbing.

"Miss Granger, look at me." He forced her to look up, his expression searching. "It is the curse they used that is causing his pain, not the fact that he is alive. You are not the cause of his suffering." She sniffed, trying to will the tears not to fall and failing. "You have nothing to feel guilty for and right now your friends need you. Dry your eyes. I need you to go and join Harry at the pitch, to stand with him against the questions."

She tried to calm her breathing, her mind working. "He's with Professor Moody."

Dumbledore's brow furrowed. "What was that?"

"Harry's with Professor Moody. I saw him leading him away from the pitch and take him back into the castle."

The headmaster stilled, his eyes inscrutable as he took in this new bit of information. "In that case, Miss Granger, I need you to stay here. I don't think I have to tell you not to tell anyone else what happened tonight. We don't want your involvement known if it is at all possible to avoid it. The Ministry of Magic would not understand and I fear it could go badly for you if they found out what you have done this evening. Do you understand?" She nodded, hugging herself with her arms. He nodded and left her in the room. She stayed there for a few minutes, uncertain of what to do with herself. Cedric had not screamed in a bit now. Perhaps they had stunned him, or drugged him so that he would fall unconscious. Or maybe, just maybe, they had stopped the pain all together.

Unable to stand it any longer, she left the room and crossed the hall to the hospital doors. She edged her way along the wall as though she were creeping through an old house and did not want to be heard. She needed to get into that room and see Cedric, to see for herself that he was all right. She had just reached the door when he screamed again. The sound tore through her like a hot knife and she flattened herself against the wall, eyes screwed shut. In spite of what the headmaster had said, she could not help but feel that this was her fault.

_"This is what happens when you play God! I_told_ you not to do this. You stupid, vain, idiotic child!"_She felt every one of Kathryn's words as though they were physical blows. What was worse, she could not find it in her to disagree. Her legs lost strength and she slid down the wall, her fingers scraping against the stone uselessly as she lowered. _"I knew it was a mistake to unlock you! I should have let them have you the day you were born. Let them put you down and be done with it!"_

_"**SILENCE!"**_

Hermione flinched, her eyes opening wide. The voice was unknown to her. It was freezing cold, masculine and very powerful. It seemed to be both inside her head and ringing out from the stones of the school all about her. Even though it was only a voice it somehow made her feel very small. Kathryn clearly did not like him, whomever he was, nor did she care for being ordered around. This much was evident in her hissed response. _"You dare to tell me…"_

_"I dare! I have had enough of listening to your venom! She does not need that viper you call a tongue lashing into her. She is suffering enough as it is."_

_"Do not presume to tell me how to…"_

_"_**_I said SILENCE!_**_"_

The corridor began to swim in front of her eyes as Hermione felt herself being pulled downward into blackness. She felt as though she had been plunged into ice water, or back into the Black Lake. Dimly she realized that she was being pulled inside her own mind, into dream, but she did not have it in her to call up her bedroom at home or some sunny hillside. She was falling into darkness and, at the moment, darkness was what she felt she deserved.

She opened her eyes to find herself in a cavernous chamber, seated on a wet stone floor. The place was unfamiliar to her, and yet somehow familiar. Turning her head this way and that she noted statues of snakes, poised as if to strike. To her left were feet carved from stone, and as her head tilted up, she saw that the feet were the base of a tall statue. Realization washed over her as the clues clicked into place. Slowly, she got to her feet and looked around the rest of the chamber.

Several yards away from her stood Kathryn in all her terrible glory. Gone was the teasing smile that she sometimes wore when she visited Hermione in her dreams and teased her about her non-existent love life. Her jaw was firmly set and her hands loose at her sides, but her eyes were not narrowed at Hermione. She was glaring at the slender, robe-clad figure of a man who stood at a point to the side that was half the distance between the pair of them.

The man swiveled his head from Kathryn to turn a dark-eyed look on Hermione. "Better grounded, now?" She swallowed and gave a little nod. "Good." He turned his gaze back to Kathy. "You will cease your abuse of her. It will no longer be tolerated."

Kathryn hissed and took a step towards the man. A pair of kamas materialized in her hands, but he only laughed. "I would consider my actions carefully were I you. Wizards continue to do in death what they did in life, just as normal men do." He drew a wand from his robes, twirling it in his fingers. "I imagine that I have gotten quite good by now. And here inside Hermione's mind, why, who knows how that might go? She is a witch, after all."

Her mother gave a soft snarl. "And just who the hell are you?"

Hermione was riveted to the pair before her. "Salazar Slytherin." It was very soft, even to her own ears. She looked from the man to the statue. "He's Salazar Slytherin, one of the school founders. This place… it's the Chamber of Secrets." The wizard gave a bow and a jaunty salute made by one hand flicking aside his temple. His wand remained ready.

"And this matters to me how?"

"It matters, St. James, because I have the power and the pull to put an end to your brutality. You've tarried too long as it is."

"You dare…"

"Yes I dare!" He stepped until he was effectively blocking Hermione's view of her mother, and thus Kathryn's view of her. "You have served your purpose, Kathryn. You've unlocked the girl and trained her to understand her gift. Unlike the others I do not disagree with your action of denying her access to her birthright, though for different reasons. You and your father are examples of what can happen when a child's only friends are dead and cold. The delay in her development allowed Hermione to learn how to interact with the living, and she's a better person for it. Far better than you."

Kathryn answered him with a bitter laugh. "A better person? Perhaps you have yet to be informed of her actions tonight. Hermione suddenly thinks she knows best about who should live and who should die. She interfered where she had no business!"

Hermione watched as Slytherin's shoulders seemed to widen. "I am aware of what happened tonight, and I seem to recall that it was the dead who suggested that Cedric Diggory be returned to the living. And with good reason. However, since you have never truly been in love, I doubt that you could appreciate their justification."

"Love." The word dripped from Kathryn's lips as though it was something bitter. "Love is for fools and idiots. Love will get her killed."

"Love is what gives her strength you never had." He shook his head sadly. "It's time for you to go, Kathryn. You are not welcomed here."

"You're kicking me out of my own child's mind?!"

"Until you can speak to her with civility and respect. You have put down the foundations, but Hermione is a blending of your world and ours. You cannot help her from here on out. She has to find her own way."

"She can't be trusted." The words were spat out and cut as deeply as knives. Hermione flinched, but watched as Salazar stalked forwards. He blocked Kathryn from view completely, but she knew they were toe-to-toe before he stopped.

"You should stop confusing her with yourself, St. James, or should we discuss just what actions you took that resulted in her being here in the first place?" The chamber fell silent save for the dripping of water from where it seeped down from the lake above. "Be gone."

She heard Kathryn draw a breath and imagined that she was trying to be intimidating. "Fine. On your heads be it. I wash my hands of the little bitch." For some perverse reason Hermione wanted to call out to Kathryn and beg her to stay. She held her tongue, however, her gut telling her that this was for the best. She did not see her mother's memory leave, but knew the moment she was gone. It was as though there was a hole in her mind where the woman had resided since the day she had unlocked the door.

She knew that Slytherin was watching her, waiting for her to say something. She swallowed and hoped she did not make a fool of herself. "I didn't expect you to be so… well that is to say…" No, definitely a fool.

The dead wizard chuckled. "I understand that my reputation has been much maligned since my passing. A pity, that, and I look forward to disabusing you of false notions regarding me in the very near future. Now, however, I think it is time you rested. It has been a trying day for all concerned."

She took a breath to say something more, only to find herself gently 'pushed' from her current dream/vision and into one which was far less intimidating. One that involved a sunlight hillside and a cheery red kite.


	24. Chapter 24

He had found her as he had come to send Madam Pomfrey to Moody's office. How long she had been there in the hallway he did not know, but her skin was cold as ice to the touch. Needless to say those inside the hospital wing were quite shocked when Severus crashed through the door with Hermione in his arms.

There were three mediwitches from St. Mungo's already present. They had been sent for to help deal with the Diggory boy who was finally succumbing to sedation and had quieted down. He would be moved to the spell damage ward as soon as they were convinced he was sufficiently stable and the aurors were satisfied they had a clear accounting of what had transpired. For the time being, however, three additional mediwitches meant that there was someone to examine Hermione as Madam Pomfrey hurried to answer the headmaster's summons.

She seemed stable. Unlike the last time she had been found in this manner her pulse was strong and steady. Her body temperature, however, was barely above the danger point. Finding no evidence of physical or magical trauma, she was covered in thick blankets and left to rest as Severus answered questions. Yes, she had been under quite a bit of stress with two close friends in the tournament. No, he doubted that she had done much in the way of studying. There had been a shock to her system earlier this year because she had been the one to find the body of Barty Crouch Sr. when he had been murdered. The healers decided that her friends returning in such a battered and beleaguered state had finally overwhelmed her and she had simply collapsed. He felt that they completely missed their mark. He knew his daughter handled stress far better than this.

Pomfrey returned with the real Alastor Moody and placed the wizard on a bed away from the rest of the crowd. Moody had been on a hair trigger before. Severus did not want to think how jumpy the paranoid git would be now. He sat by Hermione's bed, watching as the witch drew curtains around the grizzled form to shield him from prying eyes. A man in healers robes arrived to advise that the transport from St. Mungo's was finally hear and they started to prepare Diggory to be moved. The boy's parents looked pale and drawn, and at the moment he could sympathize with them.

The doors burst open and Molly Weasley came hurrying in, followed by her eldest and youngest sons. The matron's shrewd eyes darted from bed to bed, freezing as she spied Hermione. "What happened?!" She bustled over, a hand moving to the sleeping girl's forehead automatically. "She's like ice! Ron said she left the stands before the boys returned, feeling ill, and never came back!"

Severus' eyes narrowed. Had she been lying there in the hallway for that long? No, not possible. She would have been found when they had brought Diggory in. She must have made her way towards the hospital wing later, under what condition he could not fathom. She had not moved an inch since they had placed her on the narrow hospital bed, her slow breathing the only sign that she was still alive.

He knew when Mrs. Weasley pulled a chair to the other side of Hermione's bed and sat down. He faintly heard the boys badgering Madam Pomfrey for Harry's whereabouts but did not feel generous enough to tell them that the boy was still with the Headmaster. The youngest, at least, should be over here and hovering by his daughter's bed in a state of panic. In complete friendship, of course. That he was not did not raise him up in Severus' eyes in the slightest.

* * *

She woke up smothered in blankets as she had the previous year and realized that she must have passed out again when she had been 'pulled in'. Bloody inconvenient, that. It tended to throw people into a panic. Though why they insisted on responding to that state of panic by trying to smother her with blankets she did not understand. Hot and finding breathing rather difficult she began to attempt to wriggle free. Thankfully someone nearby noticed and decided to help. Hands peeled back the layers and she found herself staring up into Severus' eyes. Hermione blinked up in honest surprise before frowning. He arched a brow as he returned her gaze. "What is it?"

"Why couldn't you pass on your eyes? Black is more interesting than brown." The words came out with a bit of difficulty as her teeth were chattering. She was not cold any longer but it seemed to be taking her brain a bit of time to catch up to that fact. She managed to sit up after a couple of tries so she could look around. Ron, Bill and Mrs. Weasley were hovering around Harry's bed. Mrs. Weasley was hugging him close and he was clinging to her for dear life, hungry for the comfort she offered. Bill noticed her movement and looked up, sending a smile her way before telling his mother that she was awake. All three Weasleys and Harry looked over towards her bed.

Harry frowned slightly. "You all right, Hermione? They said you had another collapse."

She pushed a stubborn lock of hair out of her face after three tries. How was she supposed to explain this one away? "I'm fine. I just, got so caught up in helping you get ready for the task that I guess I didn't take care of myself." She ignored the glower coming from her birth father as she looked around. Her stomach clenched. "Where… where's Cedric?"

Severus answered her as Madam Promfrey bustled over with a restorative potion. "Mr. Diggory has been taken to St. Mungo's for further care."

She accepted the goblet of potion but did not drink right away. "Is he going to be all right?" _Please let him be all right!_ She turned her questioning gaze to the mediwitch who put her hand to the base of the goblet and urged it towards her lips so she would start drinking.

"Mr. Diggory will likely be fine, Miss Granger. However, the healers need a bit of time to drain the dark magic out of his body. He should be fully recovered long before classes resume in the fall, but he will miss the last bit of this year." She smiled as Hermione drained the last drop and took the goblet back. "But you need not be bothered with that at the moment. You and Mr. Potter both are to stay put until you have recovered." Hermione opened her mouth to protest but at that moment she glanced over to see Severus glowering at her and decided it might be wise to keep quiet just now. Instead she nodded to the mediwitch and reclined back against her pillows.

Harry was exhausted, she could tell, and he kept drifting in and out of sleep. She did, too, for that matter, but loud voices drawing closer to the ward refused to give her peace. She heard Molly Weasley fussing about the noise and could not agree with the woman more, even as the doors were thrown open to the hospital wing. Professor McGonagall came in, apparently furious with the Minister of Magic. Hermione listened to the conversation, her eyes staring at the ceiling as her fists tightened under the sheet. They had let one of _them_ into the school! They had let a Dementor get to Barty Crouch! The idiots!

Fudge was demanding to know where the Headmaster was about the time Dumbledore sailed into the room, upset that the patients were being disturbed. His displeasure upon learning of what had happened to Crouch was almost palpable. Hermione tried to sit up to watch the conversation, but Severus put a firm hand on her shoulder and held her down, his eyes fixed on the scene before him. She gave a huff and resumed starting at the ceiling, the voices ringing in her ears.

If Cornelius Fudge was the leader of the magical world, they were all doomed. The man was a complete and utter idiot. Harry was _there_! He saw the Death Eaters. He saw Voldemort. He saw Peter Pettigrew send a killing curse against Cedric and the man still refused to even believe that Pettigrew was alive and Sirius was innocent!

"Actually, Minister, I recall Mr. Pettigrew from when he was at school here." Albus' voice cut off that of Fudge. "I do not like to be unkind, but he never was very skilled, whereas Black was quite adept. Sirius Black would not have failed to cast a proper unforgiveable, but Pettigrew… well… it would not surprise me if he failed to have the power necessary to actually pull it off. The healers do agree that nearly every part of Mr. Diggory's body was suffused with dark magic, but somehow it failed to kill him as intended."

"Now see here, Dumbledore! This is preposterous! Clearly Potter does not do well under stress! Last year he tries to convince us that Sirius Black is innocent and now he claims that he saw You-Know-Who return?" Fudge did not even spare a glance for Padfoot who was growling from his place by Harry's bed. "It is beyond belief! He cannot be back!"

She heard Severus' snarl as he got up from his seat next to her bed and stalked over to the Minister of Magic. Hermione struggled into a semi-seated position, watching to see what he was up to when he yanked up his left sleeve and bared his arm to Fudge. "See there, Minister? The Dark Mark. It is somewhat faded from an hour ago when it burned black. Every Death Eater had the mark burned into his skin. The Dark Lord had only to touch the mark on any one of us and we were to apparate to his side at once. It has been growing clearer all year. That is why Karkaroff fled tonight! We both felt the summons. He ran because he betrayed too many of his fellows to remain."

Fudge recoiled from Severus, his complexion waxy from discomfort. Still he refused to accept what was right in front of his face. Hermione made to say something, to tell him that she had seen it all as well, when a strong, masculine voice spoke up inside her head. _"You couldn't have been there, remember? You don't want to have the Ministry poking around into your unique gifts."_ She swallowed and held her tongue, angry that she could not defend Harry and Dumbledore, but knowing that Salazar was correct.

The Minister of Magic tried to give Harry the cup and the prize money, but he stubbornly refused it. "I don't want it! Give it to Cedric. We both took the cup, and he's the one who came closest to being murdered. He should get it." Fudge sputtered, but Harry's mulish expression said he was not going to budge. Seeing that it was a losing battle, the man dropped the bag with the prize money into the cup and carried both out of the hospital wing, his nose in the air.

Hermione sat up fully in her bed, giving Severus her own mulish expression when he glared at her. He looked as though he were going to take her to task for her stubbornness when Dumbledore had Sirius transform into himself. Mrs. Weasley let out a horrified scream but Ron and Harry assured her it was all right. The Headmaster was right in that they had to start moving now. He called for old allies to be contacted and for Severus and Sirius to at least call an end to the open hostilities between them for the moment. The adults had to go their ways and prepare. They had to make ready for the oppressive weight that seemed to be settling down onto everything since Harry and Cedric had come back from the maze.

* * *

It was a few weeks before the healers felt confident enough to stop feeding him the pain relieving potions. Before then it had been all he could do to think, let along talk. All the better, really, because it gave his throat time to heal from all the screaming he had done in the beginning. The pain was nearly gone now. He still got the occasional twinge, but it had faded to nothing more than a sharp, hot stabbing that would last a few seconds before fading away. Nothing like the sensation in the beginning, of his skin being turned inside out while his bones burned and his insides were torn apart by steel hooks.

Many different healers had visited him, mostly because he was something of a medical oddity. A person who had survived the killing curse and was old enough to talk about it. They questioned him about how he felt and what he could recall of that night. Cedric had kept his answers as generic and benign as he could because he was not sure just how much he should divulge.

_Cold, black emptiness that was somehow filled with whispering voices, only to be broken by a warm, brilliant light that had made him want to curl up inside of it and never leave. Icy whispers parting for Hermione's voice which had washed over him like sunshine on a late spring morning. Knowing he was dead and hearing the dead around him telling Hermione that he could come back if she wished it. Hermione's voice telling them to send him back and the first new breath drawn into empty lungs, white hot and agonizing._

Had it been real? Had she been there? It had to have been her! He had been half mad from the pain, but he had seen the rapid-fire spells shooting from the darkness, but they had been too fast for even Hermione, had they not? Or had she been apparating from point to point? Did she know how to apparate? It would not surprise him given how advanced she was, but certainly the trace would have gone off with her being underage, or did they bother to monitor underage wizards during term?

The Minister of Magic had come to see him. His father did not care for Fudge very much, and Cedric could certainly understand why. He had brought him the cup and the prize money, all of it. When Cedric had inquired as to why Harry had not been given his half the Minister had said that Potter declined the winnings citing that he felt they belonged to Cedric. He did not really care to keep them, either. He did not want any part of the pretty trap that had been set to try and kill the fourth year. It felt like accepting blood money. When he had tried to decline, however, the Minster had become sharp with him and slammed the cup down, leaving it there. His mother had taken it away when she had his father had gone home for the evening.

He was supposed to go home soon. That is what the healers told his parents at any rate. They would send him home with a mild pain potion for the occasional flare ups but had every confidence that the last of the dark magic would have worked its way out of his system in plenty of time for the new school year. He would be able to resume his normal life soon enough. They had professional smiles and somewhat vacant eyes. None of them realized that life would not be 'normal' any time soon.

The door to his room opened and he glanced up. It was only eight o'clock, so it was not time for his visit from the therapist. His parents were already here, squeezing in that last bit of time before his father had to hurry off to work. His confusion as to who it might was cleared, however, as Professor Dumbledore came into the room.

"No, Mr. Diggory, please don't get up. There's no need under these circumstances." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he greeted his parents, his father getting a chair for the wizened man. "Thank you, Amos."

Cedric did manage to shift into a more comfortable position against his pillows. "It's nice that you came to visit, Headmaster."

"Of course I did, Cedric. I would have come sooner, however I was informed that you were not in a fit state for visitors until a couple of days ago." The headmaster peered at him over his half-moon spectacles. "How are you feeling, Mr. Diggory?"

"Much better, Sir, thank you." He swallowed. "Headmaster, I… Dad's been bringing me the paper and I've read what they're saying."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, it does appear that the Ministry has quite lost its affection for me." He did not appear overly concerned.

His father patted his hand. "Now, Cedric, don't get yourself worked up."

Cedric frowned. "But I am worked up. Harry isn't lying, Dad. I was there. I saw what he saw." He looked back to the headmaster. "Harry's telling the truth!"

"I believe you, Cedric," the Headmaster assured him. "I believe that you and Harry were taken to the graveyard in Little Hangleton that night and that you saw Voldemort and his followers. Just as I believe Harry when he says that Peter Pettigrew was the one who cast the killing curse at you."

Amos frowned. "But the papers said that Sirius Black was believed to be the one behind their kidnapping and the attack on Cedric."

Dumbledore sighed. "As I have told the Ministry, Sirius Black was a talented wizard and would have been unlikely to bungle the curse. Harry has tried to testify in the past to Peter Pettigrew still being alive but they refused to listen. And he swears it was Pettigrew who was in the graveyard."

Cedric blinked. "But, Sir, if Peter Pettigrew is alive, doesn't that mean that Sirius Black is innocent? I mean, he was convicted of murdering Pettigrew, wasn't he?"

The wizard nodded. Cedric heard his father give an indignant sputter. "You mean they're looking for the wrong man? That they kept an innocent man in Azkaban for twelve years? It's unconscionable!"

"I agree, Amos, but the Minister will not honor my request for an inquiry. As Cedric pointed out, I am not in favor with the Ministry at this moment."

Cedric saw his father's chin lift a bit. "We'll just see about that." He glanced at the clock and rose up from his chair. "It's time I was off at any rate. Work to be done and all that. If you will excuse me, Albus."

Dumbledore smiled. "Of course, Amos. Don't let me keep you. I just wanted to check on Cedric and make certain that our Head Boy will be present next term."

Cedric blinked. His father gave a start and his mother covered a gasp. "Head Boy, Sir?"

The headmaster chuckled. "But of course, Mr. Diggory. Who did you think I was going to choose? You are the most qualified candidate for the position this year."

Head Boy! He had dreamed of it, of course, but he had not dared to get his hopes up. The Ravenclaw prefect was very clever and there was a Gryffindor seventh year who had managed to not get a single detention his entire scholastic career. "Thank you, Sir. And I'll be at school. They're letting me go home soon."

He knew his father was near bursting with pride and it made his cheeks flush. Thankfully, for once, Amos controlled his impulse to brag and settled instead for giving him a congratulatory clap on the shoulder. "Well done, Cedric. Just wait until I tell Arthur! He's had two Head Boys in his family, you know, though those twins of his… well… I'll see you tonight after I get off." Amos leaned down to hug him before giving his wife a kiss and the headmaster another farewell.

After Amos had gone, Cedric looked back to Professor Dumbledore. He, however, was looking up at his mother. "Mrs. Diggory, I hope I would not be too presumptuous to ask if you would be so kind as to get me a cup of tea from the café on the fifth floor? These old bones of mine…"

"No trouble at all, Professor. I'll be right back." She gave Cedric a proud smile, her eyes shining with tears of joy, before heading out. The door closed softly behind her and Cedric turned his gaze back towards the headmaster. He had a feeling that Dumbledore really was not all that concerned with tea.

"Now, Mr. Diggory, I wanted to speak with you about that night in the graveyard and how much you recall." Cedric swallowed, hard, and lowered his gaze. He saw the headmaster's long beard give a moment as though the wizard had nodded. "I thought as much. I assure you, Mr. Diggory, anything you tell me will not leave this room unless it is between you, me and Miss Granger."

Cedric's head shot up, his jaw dropping open in shock. Dumbledore nodded where he could see it this time. "Yes, Mr. Diggory, I am aware that Miss Granger was in the graveyard that night. And I am very impressed with your efforts not to divulge that fact to anyone else. Would you care to explain your reasoning to me?"

He swallowed, gain not certain how much he should say. "I… didn't want her to get into trouble, Sir. She wasn't supposed to be there, and there were already so many accusations about… about cheating." He could not hold the headmaster's gaze. His eyes looked back at the cover of his bed. Dumbledore did not say anything for a long moment.

"I see. A very plausible reason. However, might not a better reason be that you are clever enough to understand that what truly happened that night might not be well received by the Ministry or the magical community at large?" Cedric still did not look up. "It's all right, Mr. Diggory. I have already spoken to Miss Granger. I know that Pettigrew's curse did not fail."

He shuddered, remembering his death. "No, Sir, it didn't fail." He swallowed again. "She… spoke to you, Sir?"

Dumbledore sighed and relaxed in his seat. "Yes, Mr. Diggory, she did. The circle of people who are aware of Miss Granger's peculiar talents is… quite small. She trusted you enough to let you know about her physical training, though I dare say you probably do not know how far it has progressed. She has other abilities that I have known were coming since before she started school, and which I suspect you now have an inkling of after the events of the tournament. She understands that, were her talents to be learned of, she would likely find herself enclosed within the Department of Mysteries for the rest of her natural life, and because of that she keeps her secrets tightly guarded. She was, perhaps, taking a big risk by asking you be returned among the living that night."

Yes, he had figured that much out on his own. Cedric shook his head. "Sir, I haven't said a word about it. They think the curse failed and I haven't told them otherwise."

"I know that, Mr. Diggory. If you had, the Ministry would have already sent someone to the Grangers' residence to talk with Miss Granger. And I would request that you continue to keep her confidence. I dare not go into any further details myself, because they are not my secrets to tell, but keeping her confidence is your surest way to allow for her to one day share more of herself with you."

"I would never betray her trust, Sir. Never." He sighed and leaned back against the pillows, looking up at the ceiling. "Professor, that night after… after I was murdered, everything was so cold and dark. It was like I had been encased in black ice, with nothing but strange whispers buzzing around me. I think… I _know_ it was the people in the graveyard. The ones buried there."

"Yes, Mr. Diggory, it is most likely that they were."

"Then Hermione was there, Sir. One of the voices, a woman, said that she knew where _she_ was and would bring her back, and then Hermione was there. Everything wasn't cold any longer. It was as if she brought warmth with her. I've never felt anything like it." He knew his voice sounded awestruck and he did not care. "It was wonderful."

He heard the headmaster make a contemplative sound. "Yes, I suspected that she might have some noticeable affect. I would suggest that if you discuss that night with Miss Granger that you are very delicate when relating that part of things, Mr. Diggory. She has mentioned to me that she finds the unquestioning affection she sometimes encounters to be a bit disquieting. But beyond that, is there anything else you remember? Anything that seems important?"

He was going to say 'no', but then something did cross his mind. "He knows about her, Sir. You-Know-Who that is. At least, I think he does."

"Oh?" There was a note of surprise in Dumbledore's voice, tinged with a bit of worry. "How do you figure that, Mr. Diggory?"

"When the voices were talking, after the one went to get Hermione, I asked the others who she was going for. They told me she was going after someone called 'Keogh'. Then, when Hermione was attacking and pulling the Death Eaters' attention away from me and Harry, You-Know-Who yelled out for a Keogh and then demanded 'show yourself, witch'."

"I see. Yes, I suppose he would have an idea of what was happening, though I daresay he will be looking for someone entirely different from the young woman we know." Just then Cedric's mother returned with the tea and their conversation stopped. "Ah, Mrs. Diggory, thank you so much." His mother gave Dumbledore his tea before moving over to the bed and making certain that Cedric's pillows were properly fluffed. It did not take the wizard to finish his drink. "I should be going. In spite of what people believe, there is a lot of preparation that goes into getting a school ready for term. I rarely get a three-month vacation. It was lovely seeing you again, Mrs. Diggory. And I look forward to seeing you at start of term, Cedric."

The headmaster gave them both a pleasant smile before heading out. Cedric rested back against his pillows and longed for the day when he could go home.


	25. Chapter 25

Twirl. Spin. Punch. Punch. Flip. Kick. Twirl. Throw.

The sai sang through the air and embedded themselves into the walls of garage, one on each side of the glass jar. The beetle inside buzzed its wings nervously in response. Certain she had made her point, Hermione walked over and unscrewed the lid of the jar. "Let's talk."

The insect flew up out of the jar and materialized as a tall, blond witch in acid green robes a few feet from her. Rita eyed her nervously as Hermione watched her with a dispassionate gaze, hands on her hips. "N… now Miss Granger, let's not do anything rash."

"Here are the rules, Skeeter." Hermione reached out nonchalantly and plucked one of the said from the wall. She held it with deceptive calmness as she stepped towards Rita. The witch matched each step forward with one of her own back. "You are going to reign in that poison quill of yours. If I read one word attributed to you that is disparaging against Harry, Professor Dumbledore, myself or _anyone_ I happen to respect and hold dear that is not one hundred percent true then the Ministry is going to find out about your little secret. No more lies. No more casting a negative light on half-truths and twisting them about in a way that suits your purpose. In fact, it might be best that you have me edit your stories if you are uncertain if what you write is going to piss me off or not."

Rita's eyes flew wide. "But… that's how I _live_! It's my livelihood!"

"And you can still write. I just don't wish to see that claptrap you've been passing off as news any longer." Hermione paused, her head cocked to one side as she watched the witch. "Now don't get me wrong, Rita, I don't hold it against you that you're an unregistered animagus. Quite the contrary, actually. I admire the amount of cleverness it takes to pull such a transformation off, and I know of other unregistered animagi. The difference is that they did what they did for the good of someone else, not to go running about spying people and doing their best to injure. I can fully understand the need to keep such a secret from the authorities because there are valid reasons to do so, but you have abused it."

Skeeter was watching her closely. The witch clearly did not know if it would be safe to try and make a run for it. Hermione imagined that she came across as a bit unstable at the moment. At least in the eyes of the witch. "Now, do we have an understanding?" Rita nodded. "Good. And before you start getting any ideas and think you can get out of this by simply running to the Ministry and paying whatever fine they levy against you by registering, let me give you something else to consider. If you think I'm good with these," she gave the sai in her hand a few easy twirls that would look impressive to the untrained eye, "you should see what I can do with a wand."

Rita paled behind her slanted glasses. She swallowed, her ruby nails reaching up to rest against her throat. Hermione could see the fear there and fought down the thrill of triumph that threatened to bubble up from her chest. "Get out."

Skeeter did not have to be told twice. The witch left with a hurried pop as Hermione turned from her and went to collect the other sai. She heard what sounded like applause inside her mind. _"Beautifully done! I especially liked the part at the end."_

_"I didn't, but it was needed. If she's clever enough to figure out how to become an animagus, then she's clever enough to figure out she can petition to be added to the registry late."_

_"There is nothing wrong with having a little streak of ruthlessness inside you, Hermione. Intimidation can be more useful than physical violence, though that has much to recommend it as well."_

She secured the sai and ran a hand over her face. It was hot inside the garage where she practiced while at home, and sweat dampened her workout gear. Her father kept a small fridge in here for cold drinks and overflow from the main house during large family gatherings, and she used it to keep bottles of water on hand. Taking one now she leaned against the cold metal of the door as she drank.

_"Have you figured out, yet, what you did wrong at the graveyard."_

She swallowed a drink of water and gave a nod. _"I was too nice. I didn't aim to kill."_

_"Correct. They would not have hesitated to kill you, so you have to be willing to do the same. There is no shame in your actions, Hermione. It is the mark of a good person that you find killing distasteful. However, even good people have to sacrifice their morals somewhat in war. It was very clever of you, though, to keep to the outside of the gathering as you did. They were not able to see your face and they did not see how you got around so quickly. You will have unhinged them, somewhat."_

Salazar was like this. He was a better teacher than Kathryn, likely because he had been a teacher during his lifetime. He asked her to examine her own answers and actions to learn from her own mistakes rather than yell at her and tell her what an idiot she was. His method of teaching was more like Professor McGonagall whereas Kathryn had been more like… well… Severus.

_"I don't know if I have it in me to kill, Sir."_

_"Sadly, everyone has it in them to kill another living person, Hermione. Fortunately, most never have to. I fear that it is your fate to shed blood, and more than once. With the coming darkness there will be little choice in the matter."_

She drew in a breath and let her head fall back against the fridge. _"Everything's changing. Everything is changing and we're still just children."_

_"True, and it is not fair that you are being forced to grow up so quickly. Then again, it is not fair for that demented descendant of mine to raise his hand against an infant or slaughter an innocent family or to dare to think that he has the right to control the magical community. In his madness he is becoming no better than the people I argued to defend the school against."_

She frowned. _"I thought you wanted to keep muggleborns out because they were 'unworthy'. That's what everyone believes."_

Salazar gave a snort inside her mind. _"I told you that my reputation had been maligned. My intentions have been warped and the real meaning behind them lost over the centuries. I never felt that magical children born to muggles were unworthy to learn magic. I believed them to be untrustworthy, though to be fair it was no fault of their own. It was how they had been raised."_

Hermione puzzled over this. What had been the political landscape when the school was new? She summoned up all she knew of history in the British Isles and came upon a possible answer. _"The Church."_

_"Exactly! The general populace, the muggle one at any rate, was illiterate and superstitious. Now, I do believe that most of the clergy were there for the right reason and truly believed the teachings of their faith, but it only takes a few hungry for power and wealth to twist a good message. And an illiterate populace is an ignorant and easily controlled populace. Children were murdered by their parents when their letters inviting them to the school arrived, if they had lived that long. Many were killed when they started showing their first signs of magic."_

_"That's horrible!"_

_"That was the way of the age. My concern was about the muggleborn who could not cope with being a witch or wizard and sought to gain salvation for his or her perceived 'sins' by coming to the school and then leading the bishops and soldiers there. That was why I was against bringing the muggleborns into the school, but the others disagreed with me."_

_"So you left."_

_"Yes, but I did not stop supporting the school. I merely took a different tactic."_

She finished the first bottle of water and reached in for another. _"What did you do?"_

_"I started looking for muggle children exhibiting signs of magic. And when I found them, I moved them."_

_"Moved them?"_

He chuckled. _"Yes, I moved them. I tried to find them when they were very young, preferably between four and six years, though there were a few who were seven. Young enough to adapt and still not yet so blatant in their magic that their parents or their villages were fully aware. A few memory charms here and there and the family either completely forgot there had been a child or it was believed they had drowned or gone missing in a forest."_

_"You stole the children?!"_

_"I _moved_ the children. Once I had the child I would find a magical family with as many similar physical features as I could. Hair or eye color was all I needed in most cases. It was more of a fostering than a true adoption, and I only approached families who were willing to take on another child. They pulled the young witch or wizard into their own family, taking them on as one of their own and keeping them safe until school while also re-educating them to assure them that they were not demons."_

Hermione stared across the garage at a nail embedded in the far wall. _"Then that means that the pureblood families…"_

_"Are not as pure as they would like to believe!"_

She couldn't help it. She laughed. Imagine, there was most likely a bit of muggle blood in the Malfoy family tree somewhere. Somewhere so far back that they probably were no longer even aware of it. _"But what about the Chamber of Secrets and the basilisk?"_

_"The Chamber was meant to be a hiding place should the school ever come under attack. And as for my pet, she was supposed to leave the chamber in such times to face the attackers or to deal with traitors. Riddle was the one who used her against fellow students who had done no wrong. I am sorry you had to go through that."_

She mulled this over in her mind. So the Death Eaters had it completely wrong. Everyone had it completely wrong. _"Sir, I am sorry if I ever called you any foul or less-than-respectful names."_

_"Apology accepted, though it was hardly your fault. This is the first time I have ever been able to speak in my defense."_

She smiled to herself and returned her attentions to her water when she heard the screech of an owl. Looking through a window in the side of the garage she saw a tawny owl seated on her mother's birdbath. Curious, she opened the fridge and tore off a bit of luncheon meat from one of the packs stored there before going out to meet the bird. "Hello, lovely. Do you have something for me?"

The owl preened and stuck out his leg. She untied the roll of parchment there and offered him the chunk of ham, which it accepted gratefully. "Feel free to rest here as long as you like if you need to." She stroked his feathers with the back of her fingers so as not to get too much of her own oils on his feathers before moving over to the outdoor swing to read her letter.

_Hermione,_

_Thank you for your last letter. I am home now and feeling much better. Mum and Dad still fuss over me, but I suppose that is only to be expected. But what about you? I heard rumors that you took ill after the maze but no one seems to know much more than that._

_Dad says you've been called to testify at the inquest into Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. He was furious when he found out that the Ministry might be looking for the wrong man and demanded someone take a serious look into the allegations that Peter Pettigrew is still alive. He believes they are indulging him because of me and what happened, and we really don't care if that is there only reason behind it. I do, however, want to caution you to please remain calm no matter what the Wizengamont throw at you. The Ministry is determined to undermine Harry and Professor Dumbledore, please do not give them any reason to act out against you._

_I have started up again with my teacher here at the village near our home. He was surprised at how far I progressed while at school. I told him that I practiced with a girl who had been at it a bit longer than I and had to keep up. He asked if you competed and I told him that I did not think so. Do you? I saw the tournament schedules and most of it conflicts with our school year, so I don't see how you could possibly find the time._

_One last bit of news before I close; I've made Head Boy. Professor Dumbledore visited me in the hospital and told me, then. He said he wanted to be certain I would be well enough to return to school and take up the position. Dad's been flying high ever since. You know how he gets. I feel sorry for the blokes at work._

_I hope to see you soon. Mum and Dad have been talking a lot with the Head Master and I've heard them saying something about sending me to stay somewhere with the Weasleys after the inquest, though they haven't gone into much detail. I do get the impression, however, that it has something to do with what happened in the graveyard that night and they're trying to tuck me away for safekeeping. I suppose that means Harry will be there soon as well. Has anything been said to you? If not, then I suppose I will see you on the train._

_Yours,_

_Cedric_

She smiled. She could not keep herself from it. Head Boy! Hardly a surprise as Cedric was perfect for the position. And she would wager he would make a much nicer Head Boy than Percy. She could not imagine Cedric with his nose buried in Prefects Who Gained Power.

Folding up the letter she tucked it back into its envelope and headed into the house. The cool air was a welcome after working up a sweat. She dropped the empty water bottle into the bin and snagged an apple from a bowl on the counter as she made her way through the kitchen. The idea was to go upstairs for a shower but voices in the den stopped her.

"It is a first rate school, and with her marks I have no doubt that Madam Maxime would welcome her and gladly."

"We appreciate that, Severus, but still… change her schools this late into it all? All of her friends are at Hogwarts, and she has been working so hard at keeping at the top of her studies. She's hoping to make prefect this year, but she won't have a chance of that if she switches schools now."

"Unfortunately, Jacob, that cannot be avoided. It is in Hermione's best interests to leave England. Certain… events have been set in motion which put her at risk."

"What kind of risk? Does this have something to do with that boy being attacked last term? She wouldn't go into any details about it."

"Doubtless because she wished to protect you and Hannah." She heard Severus give an impatient sigh. "Jacob, not too long ago the magical community was caught up in a war. One that was fueled by bigotry magical families had against children born into non-magical families and was manipulated by a madman who wanted power. It ended shortly after Hermione was born, but there are still those who held tightly to their misled beliefs. Now tensions are mounting again and we may very well be facing another war. One that Hermione will be caught in the middle of unless we remove her from the front lines."

"But why? We've made no secret of your connection to her and thought you had done the same. Wouldn't the fact that you're her birth father protect her."

Hermione gripped the apple in her hand, bruising the tender flesh. She hovered in the archway of the den. "Why not tell him the rest of it, Severus? Why not tell him which side you were on during the war?"

The two men, her two fathers, turned to face her. She looked a mess, of course, but right now she looked angry. If she looked as angry as she felt then both men were made of very strong metal, because she felt mad enough to incinerate the house with a thought. Jacob, apparently, recognized the signs. "Princess, you look exhausted. You should probably go clean up. We're supposed to take your mum to dinner tonight, remember?"

She did not move, her eyes fixed on Severus. "I will not change schools. I will not be sent away because you were an idiot when you were my age."

_"Easy, Girl. Do not let your temper run away from you."_

Severus lifted his chin slightly. Jacob frowned. "Hermione! Mind your manners."

"No!" She took a step into the den. "Do you want to know the rest of it, Dad? Severus once danced to the same tune as those 'bigots'. He believed that muggleborns didn't belong at Hogwarts. He treated me like dirt until he found out that I was his!" She turned to face Severus. "What? Are you afraid they'll demand you bring me in? Order you to make me toe the line?"

"That is _precisely_ the danger!" He spat the words out at her, his black eyes flashing. "They will expect you to disown your muggle family and parrot their beliefs back to them. And your association with the Potter boy does nothing to help you!"

"I. Will. Not. Leave!" She punctuated each word with a downward punch of the hand still holding the apple. "I don't care what you have to say or do, but you do it! Tell them that Dumbledore is keeping too close a watch on me. Tell them you need me to stay close to Harry in case I might accidentally pass on some important bit of information in confidence. Tell them I'm stark, raving mad, I don't care! _You_ made this mess, Severus Snape, and you can bloody well fix it! I will not pay for the sins of my father!"

Jacob, wisely, held silent during her tirade. Dad had seen her like this before, and it was never pretty. Fortunately she was well trained enough now that she no longer blew up the telly. Severus folded his arms, trying to stare her down. She would have scoffed if she did not think it would be seen as a sign of teenage angst. The idea that he could intimidate her any longer was foolish.

"Very well, Hermione, I will not send your application for transfer to Beauxbaton. However, I should also inform you that the Headmaster has decided that rather than coming to Spinner's End this summer you should instead join the Weasleys at an as yet undisclosed location. He intends to speak with you and your parents regarding the change in plans when he comes to collect you for the inquest hearing.

She gave a sharp nod, enjoying her little victory. The nerve! After all the time and effort she had put in over the past four years! After all the times she had been with Harry and Ron defending the school from one thing or another! Now he sought to take her out of it all and leave the boys dangling on their own? Not that they were not both clever in their own right, but sometimes they were just too thick to see the answer right in front of them.

Jacob cleared his throat. "Well, I suppose that is settled." He gave her a nervous look. Sometimes she wondered if her parents were not just a little bit frightened of her, even before Kathryn's death and her more recent changes. They were proud of her, she knew, but they did not understand this strange world into which she had been thrown. "Severus, thank you for coming by to speak with me about this. I'm afraid Hannah and I don't know a great deal about your world. It had never occurred to us to look at other possible schools, but sending her off to France… well… I don't think her mother would like that very much."

Severus gave Jacob a sharp nod before looking back to Hermoine. She refused to back down, her jaw tight and defiant. "I should not take up any more of your time, Jacob, and I really should be going." He collected his cloak from where he had draped it over the back of a chair, folding it over his arm rather than putting it back on. "I'll see myself out."

And he did, giving her one last look. This time, though, she thought she saw a glint of approval in the depths of those black eyes. As though he was pleased that she was able to hold her own against him.

The front door closed with a firm sound and she felt some of the tension drain out of her. Her father cleared his throat delicately. "All right, Princess?"

She gave a sharp nod of her chin. "I'm fine, Dad." Taking a breath she looked down at her bruised apple. "I should head upstairs and shower. Italian tonight?" He nodded. "Nothing white, then. It attracts tomato sauce like a magnet."


	26. Chapter 26

Remus Lupin had agreed to be questioned under veritaserum. As had Ron and Hermione. Harry had not been invited to testify as everyone already knew what he thought and, Hermione suspected, the Wizengamont did not want to give him the chance to start talking about You-Know-Who again.

The hearing went on for hours and in front of the full Wizengamont. They had to recount all that had happened their third year of school. Lupin recounted how his friends became unregistered animagi in order to keep him company during those times he was a werewolf, with Peter Pettigrew's other form being that of a rat. He admitted that he, too, had thought that Sirius must have betrayed them until he had learned that Peter was still alive.

Ron and Hermione recounted their side of things. How Ron's pet rat had turned into Peter Pettigrew. How the man admitted to having betrayed Lily and James Potter out of fear. And how Pettigrew had made a run for it when Lupin had changed that night.

Healers were brought in to examine them and confirm that they found no trace of the witnesses being confunded or bewitched. Not all of the Wizengamont was convinced, but they had managed to win over more than one half, nearly two thirds. Sirius Black was cleared of the murder of Peter Pettigrew and the muggles caught in the crossfire. He was to be awarded one million galleons for every year under false imprisonment in Azkaban less one million as a fine for failure to register as an animagus, which was now part of the public record.

Sirius was at last a free man.

Peter Pettigrew was now wanted for the kidnapping of Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory as well as the attempted murder of Cedric Diggory.

Fudge was not pleased.

Hermione and Ron could not wait to join the others. Lupin was grinning like a fool as he led them from the courtroom alongside Amos Diggory, eager to get back himself. "I believe we should stop and get something for an impromptu celebration, don't you? Sirius is likely to want to out and about tonight, but no place he'll want to frequent will be suitable for underage wizards."

They were too happy to question any of it. Remus and Amos were to see them safely to headquarters, Hermione's things having already been taken there and Ron's entire family already safely tucked in. Mrs. Diggory had taken Cedric there the previous morning. Dumbledore had thought it prudent to remove him to safety with the others given that he was there the night Voldemort had returned and thus might become a target as well.

The house at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was dark and unwelcoming. It was almost as though the house detested their presence. Hermione could not suppress a little shiver as she went inside with Ron, who was making quite the disgusted face. "I hate this place. It's creepy." He kept his voice at a low whisper.

"Why are we whispering?"

"Because we don't want to wake _her_ up." He jerked his thumb towards a pair of dusty curtains in the entry hall. "She screams her bloody head off when you do." Hermione frowned and looked over at the curtains, but did not question any further.

Remus led them into a basement kitchen, filled with the scent of freshly baking bread and slowly cooked roast. Sirius looked up from a stack of maps he had been perusing with Bill, his expression curious. It was Amos Diggory who broke the news. "Cleared of all charges! Well, save failure to register as an animagus, but you've just got to pay a fine for that."

Sirius gave a shout and leapt from his seat, looking very much younger than he had the last three times Hermione had seen him. He engulfed Amos into a fierce hug before letting him go and giving one to Lupin that pulled the man off the floor for a brief moment. Remus laughed. "And the Ministry has seen fit to award you the galleons to pay your fine and then some. We made certain the funds were put into your account before we left the Ministry."

Black set him down and frowned. "Funds?"

"Restitution for your false imprisonment. One million galleons for every year in Azkaban. Likely they hope to buy your forgiveness so that you don't tear into them for how you were treated. So that's twelve million, eleven once you subtract the fine."

Bill and Mrs. Weasley gaped at him. Sirius blinked. "What do I need more galleons for? They couldn't empty out the family vault. The goblins would never have relinquished the gold."

Remus gave a shrug before pulling up a chair and accepting a cup of tea from Molly. "As I said, it's likely false hope that you'll refrain from pointing out how bad of an error they made."

Sirius fell back into his chair, beaming. "Cleared of all charges. At last! And they've got a warrant out for Wormtail now? Good."

"How'd it go?" Everyone turned around to see four newcomers into the kitchen. Ginny, Fred, George and Cedric had walked in. They were covered in cobwebs and dust and looked as though they had been hard at work cleaning something unpleasant. Cedric caught sight of Hermione and she felt as though everything about them gave a little pause. Did he smile at her?

Fred asked again. "How'd it go, Remus?"

Sirius spread out his arms. "Cleared of all charges! A free man again in every way!"

The twins gave a loud whoop. Ginny laughed and clapped her hands before rushing over and throwing her arms about Sirius' neck. Hermione was still finding it difficult to turn her eyes off Cedric. He looked all right. No more screaming. He did not look to be hurting at all. He looked like had before; tall and handsome. "Hi."

Cedric's small smile got a bit bigger. "Hi." He moved a bit closer, stopping a couple of feet away from her and shoving his hands into his pockets as though not quite certain what to do with them. "So, you made it."

"Yeah. Right after the inquest." She motioned over her shoulder. "We stopped to pick up some things to celebrate."

"Oh, I've got a different idea of how to celebrate." Sirius was leaning back in his chair so that it balanced on its hind legs. Remus gave him a look.

"The kids are too young to go scouring muggle clubs for girls, Padfoot. Seventeen isn't of age for muggles."

"We can whip up something that says we're old enough," volunteered Fred.

"Yeah," agreed George. "Hermione, you got an ident card of some kind we can use for a pattern? Ouch!" He rubbed the spot on his head where his mother had just struck him with a spoon.

Black chuckled, but shook his head. "I'm not going clubbing, Moony, although the idea has merit. No, I think it's past time that I paid a visit to Petunia Dursley and delivered my condolences of the loss of her sister. And while I'm at it, I might as well pick up my godson and bring him back here for the rest of the summer."

That finally got Hermione's eyes torn away from Cedric. "Harry's not here, yet?"

"Dumbledore felt that he should be with his aunt and uncle a bit longer." Black scowled, clearly finding the idea distasteful. "Harry's under the protection of a charm that keeps him safe as long as he has a residence with a blood relative, which leaves his aunt. Lily cast it the night she sacrificed herself for him, and it means that he has to return to the Dursley's for at least a small amount of time each year." He shrugged. "As far as I am concerned, he's been there quite long enough for one summer."

She felt Cedric step a bit closer behind her, one arm bracing against the wall above her head. His voice was directed towards Sirius when he spoke. "Shouldn't you clear this with Professor Dumbledore, first?"

Sirius waved off the concern. "He only has to return for a little while, and we were planning to bring him here eventually at any rate." He smirked and looked over to Lupin. "Feel up to taking a trip, Moony?"

Remus waved his cup carelessly. "I thought you'd never ask." He downed the rest of his tea in a gulp and pushed away from the table. "But you really should get cleaned up first, Padfoot. You look a fright." The other wizard kicked out at him with a foot that did not connect before getting up as well.

Hermione watched them as the two wizards left, but turning as she did brought her face-to-face with Cedric. "Oh." She blushed, suddenly feeling uncertain of herself. "You look well."

"All better."

She tilted her head to one side. "Really?"

Cedric gave a shrug. "A twinge now and again, and they say I might feel a bit of stiffness when the weather changes, but nothing too terrible." He peered at her. "How are you doing? They said you collapsed."

"I'm fine."

Cedric looked like he wanted to say something more, but thought better of it as he looked up and saw that there were still quite a few people present. "Come somewhere private with me? Where we can talk?"

Hermione swallowed and nodded. He stepped back a bit and motioned for her to come with him out of the kitchen while the Weasleys and his dad were all chatting amongst themselves. They made their way into a little sitting room that still smelled of disinfectant and wood soap, though the cushions on the chairs were threadbare in places and there was still an air of gloom clinging to it.

"Smells like you've been busy."

"Yeah. I just got here yesterday and I'm already beat. Mrs. Weasley is a slave driver. According to the twins she's had them scrubbing anything that sits still too long."

"I imagine that's how she copes with stress. She likes to keep busy and take care of people."

"Sounds about right." He ran a hand through his hair. "Are you certain you're all right. None of them managed to hit you with anything that night, did they?"

She blushed and shook her head. "No. I managed to keep clear." She chewed on her bottom lip a bit, her chest hurting as though it were going to burst. "Cedric, I _swear_ I had no idea it would hurt you that much. I really didn't!" Her eyes were burning and she was aware that she was dangerously close to tears. "You were just there and they said that they could… I just reacted without thinking. I couldn't stand the thought of you… being gone."

He shushed her, one hand reaching out to steady her face, the palm resting against her cheek. "Hermione, I'm not sorry to be alive. I'm not angry with you for having me… I'm not sure what it is you did, actually, but I'm grateful you did it."

She searched his eyes, looking for any sign that he might be sparing her feelings. "But you were in so much pain."

"That was the curse, Hermione. Dark Magic is nasty stuff, and it hurts like hell. But the killing curse isn't meant to stay with you. It's supposed to get its job done and fade off. Sure it hurt to survive it, but I'd rather go through the pain than be dead. No offense, but it wasn't very pleasant the short time I was in there."

"No, I don't suppose it was. I understand it's rather… well." She looked down at her hands, not certain what to say next. She was torn between wanting to hug him and tell him that everything would be all right and wanting to make a run for it.

"I didn't tell them you were there." She looked up at him. He gave her a slight smile. "About a dozen different people, aurors and healers both, asked me to recite what happened that night but I didn't tell them you were there. I let them think what Professor Dumbledore suggested; that Pettigrew used the killing curse but didn't have the power to pull it off properly. Of course, since the Death Eaters aren't likely to admit to being there, I don't think they're going to admit that someone was attacking them from the shadows. Sorry I couldn't have been of more help."

"You were injured, Cedric. You and Harry both. I just wanted to get them away from you so you could get out of there, and I almost failed you both." She shuddered. "I lost my focus, seeing you like that. I almost got us all killed."

"You got us out of there." He rubbed his thumb over her cheek. "It's a bit humbling, being rescued by a girl," his teasing voice was the only thing that kept her from scolding him, "but you always were a bit scary."

She felt herself blushing. "I don't mean to be."

"No, you just mean to be Hermione." He kept his voice low, always mindful that someone might walk past the door. "There's so much I want to ask you about that night, so much I don't understand about what happened, but I don't want you to feel that you have to tell me anything at all unless you really want to. And if you do, I'll keep your secrets. I promise you that."

She looked back into his eyes, wanting to tell him everything that had been happening over the past two years. Wanting there to be someone else who knew what she was going through and how upside down her life had become. Hermione knew she could trust Cedric. He had been there to help her from the beginning, just by acting as a shield between her and the Slytherins. She believed him when he said that he would keep her secrets.

A smile touched her lips. She felt a tension she had not even known was there drain out of her. Cedric returned her smile and leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers. They sat like that for an extended moment, not saying anything and yet it seemed to relieve so many burdens from her just by sitting there.

She felt his hand slide down the side of her face until he could hook his thumb under her chin. She allowed her face to be tilted upwards by the gentle pressure he applied there, instinct telling her his intentions.

The door to the sitting room flew open with enough force to bang against the wall. They sprang apart a bit, looking over and spying Sirius smirking at them, his eyes sparkling with humor. "So sorry to interrupt, but Moony and I were just about to leave and get Harry. Either of you want us to pick up anything on our way back? Whipped cream? Chocolate sauce? Key to a hote…"

"Sirius!" Remus moved behind the wizard, giving his friend a scolding look. "Leave them alone." He grabbed Black by the arm and pulled him away, leaving the pair inside the sitting room with burning faces.

* * *

"I'm warning the both of you now; I mastered a good number of spells for that tournament last year so you'd best think twice before trying anything on me."

Fred (or was it George) looked offended. "We would _never_ do anything so cruel as play a prank on you, Ced."

"Yeah, you're all right for a Puff."

Cedric rolled his eyes and slipped his wand under his pillow where he would be able to reach it in a hurry if need be. He did not trust the twins any further than he could have physically thrown them.

"But, Puff or not," began one twin who decided to take a perch on his footboard.

"We've been meaning to have a little talk with you," added the other, who pulled a chair from the battered desk in the corner and sat on it backwards.

He narrowed his eyes at them cautiously. He had a bit of a buzz from the whiskey Sirius had brought back along with Harry, but he had stopped before he could get truly drunk. The twins had a bit more, but they still seemed dangerously sober. Sirius and Remus were likely still downstairs tying one on. "A talk about what?"

"Seems you've been getting a might close to a certain young lady."

"A young lady who happens to be a Gryffindor.

"And who happens to be very close to our family.

"Almost like a sister, you might say."

Cedric propped himself up onto his elbows, looking from one twin to the other. He did not like that they had positioned themselves so he could not see them both at the same time. "What if I am?"

"She's a good girl," said the twin on the bed.

"A _very_ good girl," added the twin on the chair.

"But even very good girls can let their heads get muddled up by a bloke with a pretty face."

"And we would hate to see _our_ very good girl get her head muddled up."

"Wouldn't do for her to lose her spot as top of her class."

"Think of all the points we wouldn't get!"

Cedric was not fooled for a moment. This had nothing at all to do with Hermione's position as top student. They were trying to intimidate him into keeping his hands to himself. "I would remind you that she handled Krum well enough, and he was likely planning to kidnap her and drag her off to a marriage altar in Bulgaria if he'd had his way."

"Don't get us wrong, Diggory."

"We do think you're an okay chap."

"Decent and fair minded and all that."

"But it is OWLS year for her."

"And she's likely to be frazzled, knowing her."

"And I'm not? It's NEWTS for us, you know. I'll be studying just as hard, if not harder. And at any rate, what happens between Hermione and me is none of your concern. And even if it were, I would never press her into anything she didn't want and wasn't ready for."

The twin on the bed gave a smirk. "We've used_that_ line before."

"Loads of times."

"Yes, well, that's the difference between a Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff. I actually mean it." He ignored their sounds of mock outrage. "And at any rate, I won't bother to waste my time going into detail about my relationship with Hermione. I doubt either of you have the maturity to understand."

"I think we've just been called 'immature', Fred," the twin on the chair said to his brother.

"Yes, well, at least he's not calling us anything we don't already know. Just know we'll be watching you, Diggory."

"Constantly."

"And, again, I know a good many spells now, so I caution you against trying anything." He lay back down on his bed and ignored them as they finally left him alone. Mrs. Weasley must have thought it a grand idea to put him in there with the twins as they were all three in the same year at school, but he would have rather bunked down with Harry and Ron. At least he would not have to worry about waking up with his hair turned rainbow colors or all his shoes stuck together around them.


	27. Chapter 27

Cedric ignored the screeching of Mrs. Black as he studied the area around her frame. "So what's under here?" He was pointing to the fabric that had been used to paper the walls.

Sirius made a face at his mother before answering. "Walls, of course."

"But what kind of walls? Oak? Maple? Pine?"

"Don't know. Why?" Cedric frowned at the still screaming portrait. Taking out his wand he made a jab at the painting and Mrs. Black was instantly muffled by the addition of a gag." "Oh, that's useful. You really are good at charms."

"Best subject after Transfiguration. At any rate, if we can't find a way to undo the permanent sticking charm, then maybe we should consider cutting out this portion of the wall. You can either put in a door to the next room over or just patch the hole with new wood. If you repaper the wall a patch shouldn't show."

Black gaped at him. "That's so bloody simple. I can't believe we didn't think of it before."

Cedric blushed and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "Although, I'd be careful in this house. No telling what might be living in the walls."

"You've got a point there." Sirius grinned at his mother, who was still fuming about the gag she couldn't seem to pry off, and closed the curtains. "So, Head Boy is it? Bloody shame."

He frowned. "How so?"

"You have to be a good boy to get that position. Seems like a waste of a perfectly good face to me. Although I noticed you were getting awfully cozy with Hermione the other night."

"You're not going to threaten me, too, are you? I've already gotten it from Harry, Ron and the twins. And I'm fully aware that this is going to make my time in NEWT level Potions a nightmare once Professor Snape finds out."

Black frowned. "What's Snivellus have to do with it?"

Cedric blinked. "He's… her father." Sirius' jaw dropped. "I thought everyone knew that."

"_Severus?_ That clever little sweetheart came from _him_?" He nodded. "Impossible. I can't believe it. Who would even touch the slimy git?"

"I don't know the particulars, but everyone found out about it around two years back. Turns out she was adopted and she was told everything when her birth mother died. Don't know much more except she still lives with her muggle family and has a touch-and-go relationship with Professor Snape. I think they're making an effort but they don't always deal well with one another."

Black was still shaking his head in disbelief as they made their way into the basement kitchen for breakfast. He sat down at the head of the table, his eyes going over to the brunette seated next to Ginny, gaze narrowing as he studied her. Harry came down, his hair messier than usual, and plopped down beside his godfather. He mumbled a sleepy 'hello' before noticing that his attention was elsewhere. Following the older wizard's gaze he frowned and looked back to him. "What's up?"

Sirius leaned over to Harry, pitching his voice low. "Diggory's having me on. He says your friend is Snape's kid."

"Yeah. I know. We all do. But it's all right. She doesn't take after him." He reached over and snagged a piece of toast. "You'd hardly know it except when he hands out detentions to anyone looking at her."

Black shook his head in disbelief. "Poor kid. At least she didn't get his looks. Her mother must have been easy on the eyes."

"I guess." They ate their breakfast, lingering over it so they could chat until Mrs. Weasley put her foot down. There was work to be done after all.

* * *

"Bless you."

"Thank you." Hermione accepted the tissue Cedric offered her with a grateful smile and blew her nose. The dust was really getting to her. "This place doesn't look as though it's had a proper cleaning in years."

"Probably hasn't if that house elf is any indication." She detected a less-than-pleasant note in his voice.

"Cedric, I don't think he's in his right mind. He's just spouting what he's heard his masters say all his life. You can't hold him responsible."

"I can so. He's Sirius' elf. He's supposed to mind him, not insult his guests."

"Yes, well, Sirius isn't very nice to him, is he? Hand me the polish?" She accepted the little tin from him and scooped some of the brown paste onto her cloth before resuming her work with the table. "I don't think Sirius sees Kreacher as a sentient being with feelings. Who's to say that if he weren't nicer to him that Kreacher might be more pleasant?"

Cedric looked skeptical. He reached for the polish tin but gave a sharp gasp and put a hand to a spot just under his right arm instead, rubbing it. Hermione paused, but he shook his head. "Nothing. Just a twinge. It'll pass." She peered at him. "It'll pass. It's the first one I've had since coming here. They're getting less and less frequent."

She swallowed, the feelings of guilt pricking at her again. He nudged her lightly and told her not to worry. "Actually, I wondered if you'd like to get some practice in with me today. We could slip off once we finish this table. She had me and the twins scrub out the attic the day you arrived and it's got a nice solid floor we can use. A few silencing charms and no one will know we're up there. Shouldn't be too hot if we open the windows."

Hermione would be grateful for a bit of exertion that did not involve trying to keep cursed crystal from cutting her hand. "I'd like that." She picked up the elbow grease and together they had the table near to glowing, enough so that the deep scratches from age did not look too terrible. They were both quiet so as not to draw Mrs. Weasley's attention as they made their way upstairs to change before Cedric showed her the way to the attic.

The trunks and old furniture had been stacked neatly against the walls, leaving a floor space that, while not as large as the one they used at school, was large enough for both of them to maneuver. Cedric cast the charms on the floor to prevent any creaking before waving the windows on either end of the long room to open so that something of a breeze could pass through.

Hermione stretched out, getting herself limber. "Did I tell you about that Skeeter woman?"

Cedric put his wand over to the side and stripped out of his over shirt. He had grown more comfortable with the less concealing attire. "What about her?"

"I found out how she had been getting onto the grounds after the Headmaster banned her. She's an animagus, unregistered. She can turn into a beetle."

His brows rose up. "You mean she was flitting around as a bug and spying on us? I wondered how she was digging up all that stuff on you and Harry. We should report her."

"No, we can't do that." She came to the middle of the floor and shook out her arms.

"Why not?"

"Because I told her I wouldn't. Besides, there are reasons for not registering. Look at Sirius and Harry's father. They did it because they wanted to keep Professor Lupin company when he was a wolf, but as they were too young to be doing it and had done it under the teachers' noses, they had to keep it on the sly. I just told her that if she continued to abuse her ability then I would report her. She's to keep her quill in a civil mode from now on or else."

He shook his head at her as he came to join her in the center of the room. "Just when I'm about to forget it, you do something that reminds me your dad's a Slytherin." She made a face at him and he chuckled. "Shall we?"

Their sparring was physically demanding, but always friendly. Each knew the other would not harm them intentionally, after all. Cedric had size and his Seeker reflexes on his side whereas Hermione had greater skill. He managed to block most of her attacks, but she pulled back a bit on the successful ones so as no to hurt. He managed to get the upper hand on her a time or two, but when he would throw her he always managed to bring her down gently so she would not bruise.

In spite of the breeze from the windows, they both grew flushed from their workout. It Hermione reached to grab Cedric and put him over her hip, but her fingers lost their purchase on his sweat slicked skin. He took advantage of the miss to put her over his instead. She landed on the floor with a muted thump, Cedric coming to one knee beside her and both laughing over her less-than-graceful attack. "I win."

"Says who?"

"Says me." He was still smiling down at her as she rested there, trying to catch her breath. "You did put up a valiant effort though, Miss Granger."

"Yeah, well, you just wait until next time, Mr. Diggory." She giggled and let one hand fall above her head, looking up at him. "Good showing, by the way."

"Why, thank you." His eyes rested on her face, his smile receding to a slight one that seemed more content. Hermione met his gaze without trouble, just enjoying the time together. She had missed him since he had been taken away from the school. Missed seeing his smiles.

Cedric leaned down, pausing halfway as though uncertain of himself before plucking up his resolve and finishing the journey when Hermione did not make a move to turn away. She was expecting this after last night. Her heart seemed to pause as she waited until finally she felt Ced's lips come to rest against her own.

It was a tender kiss, one filled with uncertainty as though he feared she might reject him. It was nothing like Viktor's who had been self-assured and confident that he would not be turned away. Cedric was somewhat broadcasting that she had the right to push him away, but she had no intentions of doing so. Instead, she allowed herself to return the kiss, one hand coming up to rest lightly against Cedric's bicep.

He lifted his face from hers a bit, just long enough to shift his position and stretch out beside her where he would be more comfortable. His kept his torso half-hovering over her own, one arm above her head to brace himself there before he kissed her again. This time she allowed herself to return it with a little more surety, certain that she wasn't dreaming. He nudged her lips to part with his own and she did, allowing him to deepen the kiss a bit more. Cedric tasted of sunshine and the cinnamon from the biscuits they had eaten after lunch. She thought it was the most wonderful flavor she had ever encountered.

How long they remained that way she could not say. They were each gentle with the other, just tasting and getting to know one another, but keeping things innocent. Fingers lightly traced the curves of muscles, but they never grew so bold as to wander to more intimate locations. They shifted position when Cedric's arm grew tired of holding him up, and he had rolled onto his back before pulling her over and letting her use him more like a warm pillow and giving her control. Hermione melted into him, contented to be there until the end of time.

There was a giggle from the doorway. "You two going to come down for supper or should I tell Mum you're too busy snogging to eat?" Hermione looked up to find a grinning Ginny in the attic doorway. The redhead seemed pleased as punch to have caught them. "Or I could have her bring your supper up here."

Cedric had a hand resting on the inset of her waist as he craned his neck back to look at Ginny. "We'll be down."

"You sure? Because I'm certain Mum wouldn't mind."

Hermione snorted. "No, she wouldn't mind after she skinned us both alive." It was with great reluctance that a blushing Hermione got up and to her feet, followed by Cedric. Standing, she was reminded how much taller he was than she. She met his eyes and saw something there that she could not put a name to, something that made her stomach flutter. "We should probably go down."

"Yeah, we should. I don't relish any more threats of violence upon my person."

Hermione frowned. "Who was threatening you?"

"Name any male in this household and you'll probably be right." He shook his head as he handed her t-shirt to her so she could pull it over the workout top. "There are a lot of blokes looking out for your honor." She blushed and mumbled a quiet sorry. He got his own shirt on and walked with her out of the attic, his hand holding onto hers.

They reached the area outside the basement kitchen to find the boys and Ginny there, all muttering amongst themselves. Fred spotted them and waved them over. "Where have you two been? They were just having a major meeting in there, not that we could hear anything. Mum's fixed it so the extendable ears won't fit under the door."

George had been peering at them with narrowed eyes. "Not forgetting our talk are you, Diggory?"

"Not forgetting that I don't care what you think are you, Weasley?"

Ginny sniggered and exchanged a look with Harry. Ron joined George's narrow-eyed perusal of Cedric who continued to ignore them both. Just then the kitchen door opened and Severus exited, his robes billowing. He stopped upon seeing the teenagers, his eyes flicking over most of them dismissively before landing on Hermione. "You made it here safely, then."

She nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"So formal!" Sirius came out, reaching out to ruffle Harry's hair affectionately. "No hug and kiss for your daughter, Severus?" The wizard looked over at Cedric and grinned. "Keeping busy, Mr. Diggory?"

The implication was not lost on them. Hermione glared at Sirius while Cedric somehow managed to look politely puzzled. She turned her gaze to her father. "You're not staying for dinner?"

Severus was watching Cedric with a suspicious interest. "I think that I will." He turned back around and re-entered the kitchen, leaving everyone in the hall gaping at him.

Fred shook his head and clapped Cedric on the shoulder. "He never stays for dinner. You're really in for it now, Mate." Hermione gave him a somewhat apologetic look before heading inside.

Severus took it upon himself to sit directly across from Hermione and Cedric. She gave him a hesitant glance as she settled into her chair, realizing full well that he wanted to keep an eye on the pair of them. She did her best not to fidget under his watchful gaze. She looked down the table to see who all was joining them and met Sirius' gaze from where he sat at the head position. The wizard gave her a wink, clearly finding Severus' plight amusing.

Harry passed on a plate of rolls, looking over at his godfather. "What was the meeting about?" It seemed like an innocuous statement save for the fact that no one ever told them what the meetings were about. Sirius, however, did not always follow the rules.

"Dementors in Little Whinging?"

"Sirius!" Molly glared at him. "There's a reason the children aren't included in the meetings."

Cedric frowned. "What were Dementors doing in Little Whinging?" Harry responded to the news with even more alarm.

"What were they doing there? Are… are the Dursleys all right?" It was a testament to just how good of a person Harry was at heart that he thought about the well being of his relative, no matter how awful they were to him.

Kingsley accepted the bowl of rolls. "They're fine, Harry. As for what they were doing there, the Ministry line is that they were looking for Pettigrew and thought he might try to attack you at home. Of course, they're wanting to know why you weren't at home."

"What did you tell them?"

Sirius smiled. "That you're with me, of course. A bit of a celebration for my new status as an innocent man. Undisclosed location for our privacy. Don't want to be bothered by a lot of reporters."

Moody sniffed of the roast on his plate. Molly had learned not to be offended by his constant distrust of anything he did not prepare himself. "Trouble is we're not sure who sent them. The Dementors are supposed to be under the control of the Ministry, but they'll jump to You-Know-Who's side the second he asks them. Seeing how they still guard the prison that hasn't happened just yet, so it had to have been someone inside the Ministry."

"Hermione?"

She gave a little start and looked over at Cedric. He was watching her with a puzzled frown. His eyes flicked down to her hand and she followed his gaze. She had a strangle hold on her knife, her thumb pressing on the base of blade and inching dangerously close to the cutting edge. She had not even realized she had picked it up, she had been so angry. Blushing, she set it down beside her plate and helped herself to some of the potatoes. "There can't be that many people with the authority to boss around the Dementors, can there?"

"Enough to make it a bother to filter through all of them," answered Kingsley. "More than a few of them are swallowing Fudge's denial that You-Know-Who is back. They believe that Crouch and Pettigrew were the ones orchestrating everything. Now that Crouch is out of the picture, they are confident that Pettigrew's efforts will falter."

The 'children' rolled their eyes. Harry shook his head in disbelief. "What is it going to take to convince Fudge that I'm not mental? Voldemort belly-dancing in his skivvies before the entire Wizengamont?" The twins sniggered. "Fudge is the mental one!"

Harry had found it ridiculous beyond belief that Fudge feared Dumbledore was vying for his position as Minister of Magic. Hermione thought so as well. Had Harry not still been so happy to be away from the Dursleys this soon and relieved that Sirius could finally live his life without fear that he would be captured and thrown back into Azkaban (or worse) he might have put up an argument at being barred from knowing more.

Hermione shook her head at the incompetence of Fudge and reached for the salt and peppershakers. Her eyes glanced up towards Severus to find that he was still watching Cedric. She clenched her jaw and gave him a sharp kick under the table. He winced and gave a jump, looking towards her to find her frowning at him. His response was to arch a single brow.

Dinner continued on amidst chatter and discussions. Hermione knew that Cedric was not unaware of Severus' interests, but he did a very good job at pretending to be. He exchanged barbs with the twins as well as any Gryffindor one moment and then was making Mrs. Weasley blush prettily by complimenting her cooking the next. Those paying attention, however, noticed how he always got whatever dish or bowl Hermione wanted more of, levitating them down the table if need be. They also noticed how he gave her his undivided attention whenever she spoke to him. His attentiveness was subtle, but enough to make Hermione feel a little flutter of happiness that came and went throughout the meal.

Dessert was raspberry tarts with cream. Hermione took her time with hers; a little nervous about calling it a night because she was pretty sure that once they broke up Cedric would be tossed into the proverbial lions' den. Or would snake pit be a better description.

"Children, time for bed." Mrs. Weasley was levitating the dirty dishes up and away from them. "We've got a lot more work to be done, yet."

The Weasley children all groaned in protest. Harry gave Sirius a hug goodnight before joining Ron. Cedric pulled Hermione's chair out for her as she rose. They exchanged a smile as he pushed it back in and moved with her to follow the rest of the 'children' out of the kitchen.

"A word, if you please, Mr. Diggory." Severus had gotten to his feet. Hermione and Cedric both paused. She looked back at him as he looked at Severus. She watched as he gave him a nod before giving her a reassuring smile.

"Leave the boy alone, Snivellus!"

"Sirius," Lupin began gently, but Black was having none of it.

"Give over, Moony! The girl's almost sixteen. Another year she'll be of age! And it's not like that's Malfoy's brat over there. He's a Hufflepuff for Merlin's sake; they're loyal to a fault. What are you going to do, Snape? Put her in a chastity belt and lock her in the highest tower of the castle?"

Hermione thought she might die of embarrassment. Cedric squared his shoulders a bit. "Mr. Black, I appreciate the support, but I can handle this." He turned to face her birth father. "After you, Professor."

She watched them nervously as Severus led Cedric from the room. Ginny took hold of her elbow and pulled her away, the younger girl's brown eyes also watching them as they vanished into another room. "He'll be all right. Everyone likes Cedric."

"Severus doesn't like anyone."

There was no arguing with that. Still, hovering about was not going to be allowed. Molly shooed them up the stairs, leaving Hermione hoping that, whatever he did or said, Snape wouldn't destroy everything that had happened up in the attic that afternoon.

* * *

Severus did not like it when he failed to intimidate, and Cedric Diggory did not look the least bit intimidated. The boy stood there before him, hands clasped behind his back and his expression calm, behaving all the world as though this were simply an interview for a job or a casual conversation regarding something they had both read in the paper that night.

"Mr. Diggory," he began, his voice soft as he tented his fingers before him, "I believe this is the point where I inquire as to your intentions towards my daughter."

"Nothing but the most honorable, Sir, I assure you."

His lips twitched. "I seem to recall that I heard that same response from a man a year or two your senior last Christmas." He thought he saw a muscle tick in Diggory's jaw. Interesting. "Do I need to give you a lecture in the expectations regarding the Head Boy and his behavior? You are to set an example for the rest of the school, after all."

"I am well aware of what is expected of me, Professor. And I will not disappoint. However, my duties as Head Boy and my feelings for Hermione are not mutually exclusive."

"Feelings." He hissed the word. He did not think he cared for anyone to have 'feelings' towards Hermione, even as some part of him rationalized that she was of that age where 'feelings' began to emerge and sometimes carry off a person's sanity.

"Yes, Sir."

"And just when did you first notice these 'feelings'?"

Cedric blinked, his expression changing to one of mild contemplation. "Well, I am not certain I can put an exact time to it. They likely started emerging the early part of last year. They were certainly already present when Krum beat me out to asking her to the ball." He frowned slightly. "There have been a few obstacles hindering progress, but I believe we have moved past those now."

Snape arched a brow. "Do I wish to know just how far past?"

"I have not taken excessive liberties, if that is what you are inquiring. And if we were to progress as such in the future, I do not see how it would be any of your concern. Suffice it to say that I will always treat Hermione with the utmost respect."

His lips curled. "Watch yourself, Diggory. In a few short weeks you will be back at school."

"I will," he admitted, "and you will again be the one in power. However, I have no intentions of deviating from my present course." He lifted his chin a bit. "I care for Hermione, Sir, likely quite a bit more than even I fully understand just yet. And I promise you that I will do nothing to hurt her. I couldn't even if I wanted to. You will have no cause to seek retribution from me."

Severus truly did hate it when he failed to intimidate. His gut told him that threatening to lock the boy up in detention his entire year would not faze him, and it could not have gotten away with it anyway. Diggory never did anything to merit a detention. Sprout's Golden Boy was too bloody perfect. But when did a Hufflepuff grow enough of a backbone to stand up to him?

"See that I don't, Mr. Diggory." He gave the boy an appraising glance. "I assure you that my nasty reputation is well earned, and you do not want a demonstration."


	28. Chapter 28

Mrs. Weasley kept them on their toes all while they were at Grimmauld Place. Everything needed to be scrubbed, polished and dusted, and a good many things needed to be chucked out all together. Finding Cedric's idea a very good one, Sirius and Remus enlisted his help in cutting a hole around the portrait of Mrs. Black, taking her down once and for all. The space behind the wall opened up into a large sitting area and they decided that there was enough room that they could build an entryway cloakroom there without crowding the room too badly.

Although he would rather be working with Hermione, Cedric did not mind working with Black and Lupin. The older wizards were jovial when together; Sirius somewhat daring and tending to push the boundaries of polite talk and Remus being the more gentle and well-mannered one. They did; however, tend to have debates over the strangest things.

"I will not accept it."

"C'mon, Moony! It's not charity! You've as much a right to it as I do. More, if you we're going to be honest about it. If anyone deserves 'restitution' for poor treatment at the hands of the Ministry, it's werewolves."

"I am not taking your money, Sirius."

"It's our money, Moony." Black had Cedric hold a crossbeam up while he hammered it into place. "Always has been. We're practically brothers and have been since school. When I think of how many times you covered for James and me... well… I'm certain I would have been chucked out of school on my handsome derriere had it not been for you. Besides, we've always looked out for one another."

Lupin shook his head as he used his wand to check that the boards were level. "It's not the same, Padfoot."

"Of course it is. Besides, it's only half. Well, almost half. Five for you, five for me and one for a… business venture I've decided to invest in."

Remus paused and gave the other wizard a curious look. "What sort of business venture?"

"Oh, perfectly harmless, I assure you, Moony." Sirius gave the other man a bright smile. "Just a little start up that I believe will be wildly popular in the near future." Something like a warning bell sounded in the back of Cedric's mind. He was not at all certain that he liked the glint in Black's eyes. "But, I won't take 'no' for an answer, Moony. The Ministry has all but black listed you from finding a decent job, and if their gold can see to it that you never want for another thing as long as you live then you might as well take advantage of it. Besides, you think I want you living here and being underfoot all the time? What if I want to bring a lady friend home?"

"It's never stopped you before," Remus responded dryly. Cedric could not keep himself from laughing, almost dropping the piece of lumber he had picked up in the process. Sirius looked over at him with an evil grin.

"And speaking of 'lady friends'"

"Leave him alone, Sirius." Lupin gave him a sympathetic smile as he helped Cedric fasten another board into place.

"Oh I'm not going to give the boy a hard time, Remus. I'm happy for him. Both of them, actually. And if it tweaks Snape's oversized nose, so much the better. No, I just thought we should have a talk with the lad while we have him to ourselves. See just how good his knowledge of the castle is and fill him in on any places he doesn't know about, yet. Places where a young couple in love might find a little privacy without fear of being caught."

Cedric mopped his brow before giving Black a somewhat speculative look. "I take it you're quite familiar with such places?"

"Oh, I was in love quite often at your age. Of course, it might be against some unspoken code to give all the secrets to someone such as you, but Remus here kept them to himself well enough. Just remember, it would be bad form for you to use the knowledge for bad."

His lips twitched with a smile that wanted to get out. "'Bad' being using it to seek out rule breakers rather than breaking the rules myself?"

Black's grin returned. "Exactly. I knew I liked you, Diggory. Always did like Hufflepuffs. Don't care what people say about your lot, you're not nearly a squeaky clean as you let on."

* * *

He dried off his hair after a shower, grateful to be rid of the sweat and grime now that the new cloak closet was finished. Sirius had celebrated by using his mother's portrait as kindling, much to Kreacher's dismay, and had insisted that he and the twins join him and Lupin in a round of firewhiskey. They had only taken one shot, though, to avoid Mrs. Weasley's wrath.

He was just pulling on his clothes when the twins arrived. "Booklists are here," announced Fred (he was getting better at telling the difference between them) as he tossed a heavy envelope onto his bed before tearing open his own. Cedric finished pulling his shirt on before opening his own letter and letting the heavy Head Boy badge fall into his hand. He had known it was coming, of course, but having the badge in his hand made it somehow feel more real.

"Stop grinning like a prat. We all know you're Head Boy." George flopped onto his own bed as he perused his list. "At least you're likely to be better than Percy." The name, as always, was spat out as though it were something distasteful. Cedric could hardly blame them for their vitriol. He wagered that he would feel the same had he been in the Weasleys' shoes. His heart went out to dear Mrs. Weasley, knowing that the estrangement from her son was hurting her deeply.

"Looks like Dumbledore finally found someone for the DADA job. About time, too. It was getting close."

Cedric looked over the book list and frowned. "Someone interesting if the book is anything to go by."

Fred looked up. "How do you reckon?"

He waved his book like slightly. "Whoever it is has assigned us Harriford's Guide to Defense and Survival. I've read it, and it's an aggressive take on thing. Still, I'd give anything to have Professor Lupin back. He was the best teacher we've had in that class all my years combined."

"Yeah, well," George spoke darkly, "that's not likely to happen until people pull their wands out of the arses, is it." He folded up his book list. "Let's go see what the ickle babies are up to."

"You really shouldn't call them 'babies'."

"Why not? It annoys the hell out of them." The twins grinned and disapparated with a crack. Cedric closed his eyes and shook his head before walking out of the room to go pull them off Harry and Ron. George was talking as he opened the door. "Ced says the book's good, so hopefully we're getting someone who knows what he's doing."

Harry did not sound surprised. "Reckon it's getting hard to find anyone who'll take the job. It doesn't come with a very good track record. He should have asked Sirius to do it."

Fred snorted. "Right, like he'd go from hiding from the law to being shut up trying to teach a bunch of kids. Doesn't strike me as the academic sort, anyway." He looked over at the youngest Weasley boy. "Oy! What's up with you, then?"

Cedric was closest, having come through the door like a normal person. He glanced over Ron's shoulder and recognized the layout of the supplementary letter that had arrived with his book list. "Congratulations, Ron." He smiled and clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder before looking over at the twins. "He's made Prefect." The twins looked gob smacked. One of them snatched up Ron's envelope, dumping the heavy red and gold badge into his hand while the other snatched the letter from his hands, holding it up to the light as though to check for signs of forgery. "Hey, now!"

"But it's got to be a mistake! Nobody in their right mind would make Ron a Prefect."

"Oy!" The back of Ron's neck was turning purple and Cedric saw him clench a hand into a fist. He kept his hand on the younger boy's shoulder before he did something stupid.

"Spending the summer with you has made me realize just how fortunate I am to have been an only child. Why would you think Ron couldn't be a Prefect, after all he's done? Harry didn't get into all those messes on his own, you know."

"But that's it, Ced," began George as he shoved the badge back into Ron's hand as though it might contaminate him.

"We thought Harry'd get it for sure."

"All the mad stuff must have counted against him."

"Yeah, Harry, you're too much of a trouble maker. At least _one_ of you has your priorities straight. Oh, Mum's going to be revolting."

Ron stepped out from under Cedric's hand towards Harry, holding the badge out to his best friend so that he might confirm that it was genuine. Harry took the badge and turned it over in his fingers. Cedric thought he saw a little light of envy in the smaller boy's eyes and knew that this probably did come as a shock. Just then the door opened to reveal a very excited Hermione. He reasoned the likely cause of her joy even before she squealed in delight, waving her own Prefect's letter and rushing towards Harry who quickly disabused her of the notion that it was he.

"Ron? But that's…"

"Unbelievable?" supplied one of the twins.

"No! Not really. Ron's done loads of things… he's the perfect choice." Her discomfort was almost tangible and Ron's face was turning purple again. Cedric cleared his throat and tried to lighten the mood.

"I guess that means the two of you will be answering to me this year, then. I think my first order will be that one of you heads upstairs and makes my bed. I never got around to it." He clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels slightly. The room fell silent as everyone looked at him. Hermione broke the silence.

"It doesn't work that way, you prat."

Everyone started to snigger, but at least the youngest Weasley no longer looked on the verge of committing fratricide. Cedric grinned at his new girlfriend and motioned her over. "Come here. Let's see how that badge fits." He took the red and gold pin from her hand and fixed it to her shirt, polishing away his finger smudges with the cuff of his sleeve once it was in place. "Looks natural there. Always knew you'd get it."

She blushed, still unable to keep the happy smile off her face. Mrs. Weasley came in with fresh laundry, her mind clearly on several things at once. "Ginny says the book lists have arrived. Give them to me and I'll head over to Diagon Alley to get everything. Ron, you're going to need new pajamas. Yours are way too short. You just keep growing so fast! What color would you like?"

It was too much to hope the twins would have let it slip by. "Get him red and gold to go with his badge."

"His what? What are you on about? What badge?"

"His badge! His shiny, new Prefects badge."

Once she got off the initial shock, Mrs. Weasley proceeded to show Ron just how Cedric felt every time his father was overly pleased with him. The boy's protests were somewhat muffled, smothered as he was in his mother's embrace as she kissed his cheeks. The twins made choking noises a few feet away. After promising to look about getting Ron a new broom as a reward, though appearing somewhat uncertain about it, she hurried off back downstairs.

The twins looked back at their brother. "You don't mind if we don't kiss you, do you, Ron?"

"We could curtsey if you like."

"Lay off him." He shook his head as the twins sniggered and apparated away with a crack. "Ignore them, Ron. You've got nothing to be ashamed of. Quite the contrary, actually." The other boy still looked a bit uncertain about what to think.

"Fred and George say only prats made prefect, no offence, Diggory."

"None taken."

"Still… they've never had a new broom, either." His face brightened a bit. "We can't afford anything like a Nimbus or a Firebolt, but there's a new Cleansweep out. I think I'll go see if Mum's gone yet. Tell her I'd like the Cleansweep." And just like that he was off, brightened not by Cedric's words of encouragement but by the prospect of a new broom. It was almost humbling.

* * *

Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Harry, Cedric and herself. Seven students to get packed, dressed, fed and off to school. If Mrs. Weasley had not raised just as many children of her own, and thus had developed organizing such a mess into an art form, Hermione would have considered it a lost cause. Of course it helped that the twins and Cedric were all of age and therefore allowed to use levitation charms to assist in moving all the trunks.

Hermione had found it difficult to pack everything she needed. On top of her muggle clothes, school clothes and school supplies, she had her work out gear, kamas, sai and a few blades. The trunk was a bit overfull, but Cedric quietly offered to smuggle some of her non-school items in his own trunk since he would be able to give them back to her when they met for practice at the castle. They managed to get the owls in their cages but she had trouble locating Crookshanks. After calling out for him in an increasing state of panic the massive ginger cat was found curled up on Cedric's pillow up on the room he had been sharing with the twins.

Moody, Tonks, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Sirius escorted them to Kings Cross. All about them on the platform for the school train people craned their necks to get a closer look. Some were looking at Harry. Most of the older girls, Hermione noticed, were looking at Sirius. She supposed that he did have that attractive, 'bad boy' air going for him. That he knew he was good looking did not help matters much. She rolled her eyes and turned to board the train after she caught him give a wink to an older girl who had come to see off her younger sibling.

Cedric had a little more trouble getting through. Every few feet another Hufflepuff student would stop him to congratulate him for making Head Boy. The entire house, it seemed, was dead chuffed that one of their own had reached the exalted position. She hid her grin at his flushed cheeks as he tried desperately not to let all the praise go to his head. Why would any girl want the rouge when the modest Prince Charming was so much more appealing?

She and Ron left Harry and Ginny to find them a compartment as they made their way to join the rest of the prefects along with the Heads. Someone could have knocked her over with a feather when she saw who were to be their Slytherin counterparts.

"Malfoy?" Ron gaped at the pale boy their age in disbelief. Of course his grades were good, but she would have thought his disposition would have kicked him out of the running.

Draco smirked. "Surprised to see you here, Weaselbee. Gryffindor must be really scraping the bottom of the barrel if you've been made a prefect." She reached out and gripped Ron's elbow automatically, knowing how easily Malfoy could prick his temper. "Though I can't say I'm surprised to see you've gotten a badge, Snape."

She drew in a hiss. "It's _Granger_, Malfoy. Or are you too thick to remember that?" If Malfoy being prefect was a surprise, then his female equivalent was a complete shocker. Pansy Parkinson was beyond dense and was doing well to spell her own name correctly. Honestly! What was Severus up to naming her as a prefect? Of course, there were not many choices amongst the Slytherin girls in their year, but Hermione was pretty sure that Millicent still scored higher than Pansy.

Draco sneered at the mention of her preferred surname and looked about to respond when the head students finally joined them. Cedric took a silent headcount, pausing to wink at her before speaking. "Sorry for the hold up. Had a bit of a tense situation to diffuse. Let's get down to business, shall we?"

She was aware of the curious glances sent her way when Cedric took up the seat next to her. She ignored them the best she was able, and that included the sullen looks that Ron sent her way every now and again. Honestly, for someone who seemed to forget she was even a girl until a silly dance was almost upon them he certainly did get jealous at the least little bit of attention she might receive from someone _other_ than Harry or himself. Between his glares and the twins' not-so-subtle threats, she would be lucky if Cedric did not run screaming for the hills.

The briefing done, Cedric asked if there were any questions. He slid a gaze over to one side when Adrian Pucey, the seventh year prefect, raised his hand. "Yes?"

"Do I get to be Head Boy after you die from poisoning?"

Everyone gaped at him. It was Ernie, the Hufflepuff prefect, who sputtered indignantly. "Is that a threat?!"

Pucey gave a snort. "Honest curiosity, because Professor Snape is going to murder Diggory once he finds out he's sniffing around _her_ skirts." He gave a nod with his chin towards Hermione. She gave him a sneer in return. Cedric was far more tactful.

"Don't let it bother you, Pucey. Besides, I imagine Davies is next in line if I encounter an unfortunate accident during Potions." She gave him a scolding frown coupled with a sharp jab to his ribs. His response was just to laugh.

The majority of the train ride went as expected. Insults exchanged between Draco, Harry and Ron were par for the course. Cedric tried to stay in their car as much as possible, but he also had his friends from Hufflepuff to spend time with and there simply was not a single compartment large enough for everyone. Hermione assured him it was all right and that she would not feel slighted if he went to join his friends as long as he did not feel slighted if she wanted to spend time with hers. Besides, it was not as though they were not going to see one another once they got to the castle. The only added strangeness was Luna Lovegood being in their compartment. Sometimes she truly wondered about that girl.

After disembarking from the train, Hermione watched Cedric shepherding the first years over to Professor Grubbly Plank. "Where's Hagrid?"

Ron and Harry were just as mystified. "Must not be back from whatever Dumbledore sent him off to do." They all three exchanged worried looks before getting into one of the carriages. Cedric joined them as soon as he was able, not looking the least bit repentant as he stretched his long legs out to purposefully crowd Harry. The younger boy gave as good as he got by snatching his legs up and then using Ced's knees as a footrest. It was all in good fun and so very much a boy thing to do that Hermione had to shake her head at them.

Of course she could not sit with Cedric at his house table. She had to sit at her own table like a good little prefect. It took a while for Cedric to be able to sit down at any rate. He had to keep stopping to accept cheerful congratulations from his house with just about every step. His face was burning before he was halfway through. Harry leaned over to her to whisper, "This is why I hate being famous. Nice to see someone else have to deal with it for a change."

She sat down between him and Ron. "They're also happy that someone has drawn the spotlight onto Hufflepuff. They really do get the short end of things." And they did. Hufflepuffs were not weak or 'leftovers'. They were actually quite wonderful, and it was not just her inner-girl saying that.

_"Helga was a wonderful woman and a dear friend. She also could trounce Gryffindor in a wizard duel any day of the week. And did on several occasions."_

_"You've been quiet."_

_"You've been busy. I've heard good things about that young man, though I would remind you he is still a man. I was his age at one time and I assure you that much the same desires and lusts motivates us all. Do not let yourself be pressured."_

_"Cedric wouldn't do that."_

_"Perhaps not intentionally, but good intentions can be lost in the heat of passion."_

"Harry! It's Sirius!"

Hermione was pulled out of her conversation by Ron's voice. She frowned and looked up at the head table. There, seated between Professor McGonagall and Severus was, indeed, Sirius Black. She blinked, shook her head to clear it, and looked again. No, it was still him. "He couldn't… I mean… Professor Dumbledore couldn't have…"

"He must have!" Harry's grin was so wide that it looked as though his face might split in two. "This is brilliant!"

"But is he even qualified to teach? I mean… "

"Hermione, he fought in the first war against You-Know-Who!" Ron craned his neck to get a better look. "And he and the Marauders did all sorts of things while at school that were well past what we learn normally. Look at Snape! He's furious!"

Her eyes moved over to Severus. If she had been concerned that he might lash out at Cedric this year, she was not concerned any longer. If he was going to be poisoning anyone it would likely be Sirius. He looked even paler than he usually did and she thought she might actually be able to see him shaking from anger. "Shit-Fire-Mother-Fucking-Damn." She did not notice her two best friends gawking at her. "He's going to be a nightmare in class. Just see if he isn't." Harry and Ron exchanged a look behind her back of which she was completely unaware.

After the sorting was complete and the hat carried off for safekeeping until next year, Professor Dumbledore got to his feet for the announcements. "I would first like to welcome back Professor Grubbly Plank who has kindly agreed to join us while Professor Hagrid is away on other matters. We are glad to have you, Professor." Everyone applauded, some with a bit more enthusiasm than the Gryffindors liked.

"I would also like to introduce a new member to our faculty. After finally being cleared of alleged wrong doings, Professor Sirius Black has agreed to join us to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts." Sirius rose from his chair and gave a winning smile to everyone, throwing a wink over to the Gryffindor table. "Welcome, Professor Black. We wish you the best of luck." The applause was an odd mixture of trepidation and robust enthusiasm. Those who knew Sirius applauded loudly, of course, but so too did many of the older girls. Many others, however, were still a bit nervous. Especially those who remembered two years ago when Black had somehow managed to break into the castle and into Gryffindor Tower.

"I bet Sirius will be every bit as good as Remus," Ron suggested. "Probably even better since he won't have to take off when the moon gets full."

"I bet he even breaks the jinx on the job." Harry was still grinning. "Bet he makes it more than one year."

Hermione forced a reassuring smile to her face that did not quite meet her eyes. _"What is it? I thought you liked Black."_

_"I do, but I've got a bad feeling about this. Something tells me this is going to be a very long year."_


	29. Chapter 29

Michael frowned. "Why me?"

"Dunno, but he asked for you by name. Twitchy fellow. Bad trait in one like him." David gave a shudder and rubbed his temple. "Pyro."

Michael could not keep himself from wincing. He hated pyros. If they did not have a good grip on themselves they could set random things blazing, which was never much fun. "Where did you put him?"

"One of the interview rooms. Third one on the right." He handed him a slim file folder. "Yank by the sound of him, but we don't any much on him but his name."

He took the file and opened it, perusing the scant details of name, date of birth and hometown as he walked down the hall towards the third interview room on the right. The lock disengaged under his badge and he stepped in, looking up to study the name seated at the plain, white table. "Eric Schultz?"

He was too thin; almost starvation thin, and he had a greasy, unkempt look about him. His black hair was pulled back form his face and was caught at the nape by an elastic band, a few shorter lengths hanging limply about his face. When he lifted his head it was apparent that he had not shaven in several days, the growth of his beard short but thick. There was something altogether unsettling about this man. "You Turner?"

"I am." Michael set the file on the table surface before claiming the chair directly across from him. Schultz gave him a cursory once over before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette. He put it to his lips and the tip flared to life with a spark. Turner supposed it was meant to impress him, or perhaps the man was so confident in his control that he was casual in the use of his abilities.

"You're younger than I expected you to be. I figured you'd be older."

"They tell me you wanted to see me specifically. Care to tell me why?"

The man looked at him in silence for a few seconds, pulling on his cigarette, before answering. "Someone told me that you're the best at rearranging memories. He said you could probably make a man forget everything he'd ever done, from his first steps on, if you really wanted to."

Michael raised a brow in his direction. "I didn't know I'd ever made such an impression on anyone. Care to tell me who this person was?"

Schultz gave a look that was half-smirk, half-sneer. "Geoffrey Trout."

He stilled. "You know Geoffrey Trout?"

"Unfortunately. Worked for the bastard for a time. Paid well, but he was a bit unhinged."

That sounded like Trout. Michael tried to keep his expression calm. "And where is he now?"

The man gave a short, bitter laugh. "Don't know, and I don't give a damn, either." He took another drag. "Are you as good as he said?"

"I've been known to rearrange history a time or two. Why? Does Trout have someone he wants me to see?"

Schultz shook his head. "I don't care what Trout wants. If I never see the bastard again it'll be too soon. I'm here because I need your services. I need you to make me forget."

"I see." A sinking feeling entered Michael's stomach. He was taken back to the weeks and months after Trout had been sacked. There had been so much damage to repair. So many of their kind who had been damaged psychologically because of Trout's heavy handed tactics and despotic regime. Was Schultz another casualty of Geoffrey's thirst for power and control? Another broken weapon? "Sometimes it's better to deal with painful memories, Eric. It can make us stronger."

Schultz snarled. The cigarette in his hand caught blaze for a moment, the flame visible before it died down again. "I've tried coping. Tried it for over two years. It doesn't work. I can't sleep. Can barely eat enough to keep alive. I'm jumping at shadows everywhere I turn. It's not getting better and I'm sure as hell not getting stronger."

He might not be an empath, but even Michael could feel the anger and bitterness pouring from the man on the other side of the table. "I see." He looked down at the file on the table, his fingers giving it a little turn so that it was perfectly straight. It was just an empty movement to give him time to think. "Before I can decide if I can help you or not, I need to know what it is that you're wanting to forget? What's hurt you like this?"

Schultz gave a shudder. It wracked his whole body. A wave of revulsion and fear that shook the grown man and suddenly made him seem much smaller. Michael swallowed. He had an idea that he did not want to hear what was coming.

* * *

"I've told Moony to come up whenever he feels he needs to escape Molly and her quest to renovate the house." Sirius looked over the scroll on his desk. "He's been a big help. Gave me all sorts of advice on lesson plans and told me which students he remembers were real troublemakers. And which students I could depend on to participate in class." He looked up and gave Hermione a grin. "Of course, he says if I lose my book I can just ask you what the next page says. Claims you're likely to have it memorized by heart."

Ron and Harry sniggered as they pretended to be helping Sirius put his office in order. "Ha. Ha. Ha. But really, Professor Black…"

"None of that! I'm still Sirius when it's just the three of us. Or Padfoot, if you'd rather."

"All right, S…Sirius," she did not like it. It felt disrespectful to call a teacher by his name. Severus was all right, of course, but she was not related to Sirius that she knew of. "But why did you agree to teach? I'm sorry, but you never struck me as the teaching type."

"Special favor to Dumbledore." He gave a shrug. "It was getting close to the wire, and there is apparently a clause in the school charter that says if the headmaster cannot find a teacher for a subject, then the Ministry can assign one of their own. Fudge already had a person in mind. A woman named Delores Umbridge. My mum liked her, which means she's the wrong sort to expose you kids, too. Not to mention she's one of Fudge's most devoted lackeys. I'd think she was his little something on the side if she wasn't so homely. Even Cornelius has standards. And that voice of hers." He gave a shudder as though someone had scraped their nails down a chalkboard right next to his ear.

Ron made a face. "Better you than one of Fudge's lap dogs any day, Padfoot." He grinned and turned a curious looking device over and over in his hands. "So what are you going to teach us first?"

"We'll be running over the basics for the first two weeks. I want to get a feel for where you are. The first years will be easier since I won't have any bad habits to break but my own." They all laughed at that. "But you older kids, you've been bounced around so much I'll likely have to re-teach you some things. And who knows what that fake Moody did to you."

"Actually, for an imposter he wasn't half bad." Harry sat down in a chair and propped his feet up on Sirius' desk. "He was no Remus, of course, but we learned a lot."

"That's something, at least." Sirius pushed a plate of biscuits Dobby had brought up to them towards Ron and Harry so they could help themselves. "Now, there was something that I wanted to talk to you three about. I've been thinking how we can give you an advantage and I think it's for the best if you took a leaf from the Marauders' book."

Harry and Ron leaned forward eagerly, eyes glinting with mischief. Hermione was intrigued herself. "What did you have in mind?"

"I think the three of you should try and master the animagus transformation. On the sly, of course. If no one else knows that you can or what animal you turn into, then you can use it to either give an enemy the slip or sneak into places you need to poke around in." They all blinked at him. "You're all three quite clever. Granted, Hermione's got more brains, but you boys can do anything you want to if you put your mind to it. I'm certain you could pull it off."

Harry and Ron looked at one another with excitement. It would figure that after all the effort she had put into trying to get them interested in learning, it would be something that required bending or breaking a few rules to stir their interests. Still, she would not mind the challenge herself. "When would we start?"

"My Mondays are full, but I believe Tuesdays are good for all three of you?" The boys nodded, but Hermione frowned.

"I can't on Tuesdays. That's the night I have tea with Severus." They all looked at her. "What?"

"You have tea with Snape?" Ron looked a bit green.

"Every Tuesday. Oh, give over, Ron! We're trying very hard to keep things civil. And I really need to keep this up, especially after putting my foot down about changing schools."

Harry frowned. "Who said anything about changing schools?"

"He did. He came to my house right after the end of last term and spoke to Dad about it. He was trying to convince them to move me to Beauxbaton. Felt it would be safer for me there."

"You never said anything about this!"

"I told him I wouldn't go, Harry. I was a bit rude about it, actually. He was worried that, now that You-Know-Who is back, he might be expected to bring me in line, so to speak. I told him that I didn't… well…" she blushed, suddenly thinking that she did not need to tell the others just how cross she had been. "At any rate, I refused to go."

Sirius rubbed his jaw, listening to the exchange closely. "Well, then, Tuesday is out. Thursdays, then?" Hermione thought a moment before nodding. "Good. We'll work around Quidditch practice when we can and, if we can't, I'll work with Mione here and she can help the two of you when she's able. I figure she'll be the quickest to pick it up anyway." She blushed under the subtle praise.

* * *

Cedric was grateful that he did not make a fool out of himself. Not just because it would have galled him to lose to Adrian Pucey, but also because he really did want to make a good impression on Professor Black. The man already had proven he was not above lightly teasing him over Hermione and, although he had never said so, something told Cedric that this was yet another wizard who would have no qualms making his displeasure known if he showed the slightest hint that he might not be good enough for her.

He briefly wondered what it would be like to have a girl who just had a father to worry about. Pretty boring, likely.

"Mr. Diggory!" Sirius paced up and down between the students. He had paired them off to test out their dueling abilities at the beginning of class. "Since you seem to be the best at it so far, care to explain why it's useful to master non-verbal spell casting?"

Pucey was scowling at him, rubbing his arm where his stinging hex had struck his wrist. Cedric had offered to cast the healing charm to relieve it, but the Slytherin had refused him. "Because it's a bit faster than verbal and because it keeps your opponent in the dark about what you're about to do."

"Correct. So you can do something other than stand there and look pretty." It was delivered with such good-natured humor that no one mistook it for anything else. Even Cedric laughed. "Five points to Hufflepuff. Now, for next class I want everyone to read the first three chapters in your textbooks. No essays just yet. As I recall both Professor McGonagall and Professor Binns love to assign massive essays the first week of seventh year. Somehow I doubt they've changed much since I was your age." Everyone laughed again, mostly because he was spot on. "Now get out of here! All of you! Not you, Mr. Diggory. Stay behind, if you would."

He lingered after class, fastening his satchel over his books. Black waited until the last of the other students were gone before he spoke. "How are you holding up, Cedric? Any problems hanging on from last year?"

He blinked, looking back at his professor. "No, Sir, nothing at all. Even the twinges have mostly stopped." He frowned. "Why?"

Black looked concerned. "That was a nasty curse you got hit with, even if Peter failed to cast it properly. And, well, if you recall I was on the grounds when you and Harry got back. I know you were in bad shape."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm fine, Sir. Truly." He had hoped to put the events of last year behind him for the most part. "Are… are all the teachers worried about it?"

"Can you blame us? Not many people can say that they survived the Killing Curse. Just two people, actually. And I suppose there is some concern that you might find it hard being back here after all that happened at the tournament."

He sighed. "It is… strange. Sometimes I feel like I've… outgrown it. School, I mean. If it weren't for my NEWTS and Herm… well…" he blushed, not sure he should admit that a good part of why he had come back was because he wanted to be close to Hermione. Sirius, however, seemed to understand perfectly.

"Nothing wrong with following a girl if the girl's worth following. But there's another reason I wanted to talk to you. Now, I know I'm probably the last person who should be preaching self-control, but sometimes when a man faces death and lives he can get a bit cocky. I know things are going to get progressively worse now that we're on the verge of another possible war, but you need to keep yourself aware that you are not indestructible. We're all going to have to make sacrifices as time moves on, but that doesn't mean we should risk ourselves foolishly."

But he had not just 'faced' death. Cedric had fallen to it. Had fallen down into that cold blackness that was filled only with whispers until Hermione had come and filled it with warmth and light. Did it make him feel a bit indestructible? Not really, because he did not want to be there again if he could avoid it. "I won't lose my head, Sir. I promise." He shouldered his pack. "Is… is that all? Only I'm supposed to meet Hermione to study before lunch."

Sirius' concerned expression gradually gave way to an oddly pleased smirk. "Is that what you kids are calling it these days?" Cedric felt his cheeks flame. "I'm only teasing. That's a good girl you've managed to catch, there, Diggory. Brightest witch of her age, if not the brightest in the past century. Be sure you treat her right."

"Always." He made his way out of the classroom and down the sparsely populated halls. With the last class of the day over with most students wasted no time either getting the library or anywhere else as long as it was not inside of a classroom. Of course, Cedric was not going to a classroom. He made his way up to the Room of Requirement and found Hermione already there. "Sorry. Professor Black wanted to speak with me." He unshouldered his pack and set it by the wall.

They were not practicing or sparring today. Hermione wanted to speak to him today. She had been holding this in until they could get back to the castle and be guaranteed some measure of privacy. There were no combat dummies or weapons, just a large number of fluffy pillows and cushions crowding the floor so that they would be comfortable. She looked up at him from where she was sitting, her knees hugged to her chest and looking very small and afraid.

"What is it?" He came over to join her, sinking down into the pillows close enough that he could reach out and put his hands onto her shoulders without having to make an effort to reach for her.

"I'm afraid you won't like me very much once you know everything."

He shook his head. "There is nothing you can tell me that will make me stop liking you, Hermione. I promise, and I always keep my promises."

She gave a little half-smile. "Always?"

Cedric reached out and brushed a stray curl out of her face. "Always." His hand slid down and cupped her cheek. "Just start at the beginning and go from there. I'm not going anywhere."

He watched her as she took a deep breath, bracing herself, and then listened as she started to speak. Cedric was quiet, paying attention to every work as his mind linked together events and thoughts from the past two years. The knowledge that she was adopted brought about by the death of her birth mother and soon followed by the headaches that had plagued her the beginning of her third year. The physical training and how she seemed so advanced for her years, even more surprising now that he knew she had only been at it for less than a year by the time he had come along to watch. How she had been so fluent in Bulgarian, of all things. She told him things he would never have thought possible and explained the existence of muggles with unusual abilities rivaling those of wizards. And all of it stemmed from a rare gift that, as far as she knew, only showed up in her late mother's bloodline.

She faltered off when she had run out of steam, her expression watchful as she studied his face. Cedric had shifted into more of a reclining position, resting on one elbow a few inches from her hip with his legs stretched out behind her. He mulled everything over in his mind, linking facts together in order to get the entire picture. "So… she wasn't a muggle after all, your mum. Not an ordinary one at any rate."

"Apparently not."

He nodded. "Does Professor Snape know?"

She shook her head. "He suspects, of course, but I think he believes she was either a witch who did not care to advertise that fact or that she was some other type of magical creature. I _do_ think he understands that she was using him to get close to the necromancer, but I don't think he really feels any loss at that. I… get the impression that they didn't think much of one another as people. It appears to have been mostly physical on his part and a means to an end on hers." She shrugged. "Kathryn admitted that I came along because she got 'sloppy'."

He frowned. "That's a horrible thing to say to your daughter!"

"She would be the first to admit that she's a horrible person. Sometimes I think she takes pride in it." She wriggled her toes against the cushions.

"So that's how you did it. How you got me back in my body and fixed it so I overcame the curse."

"Not really. I didn't put you back in, I just accepted it when they told me that you could be." Her eyes flicked back to his. "I couldn't bear it, seeing you lying there." Her eyes were shining but the tears did not fall. "I let it distract me, too. I could have lost us all."

"We've been over this, Hermione. You got us out of the graveyard, you didn't get us killed." He rolled onto his back, looking up at her. "And now I understand how you did it. I wish I could have been there for that part of your training. Does this Continuum really work through the anti-apparition wards?" He frowned. "Well, it must or you wouldn't have been able to get there so fast. Harry says who ever was in the graveyard was moving so quickly he was certain that it had to be more than one, though he didn't understand why they weren't all attacking at once." He frowned. "Just how fast can you work math? I might need you to help with my arithmancy work."

"Pretty fast." She looked back at her toes.

"And now you've got Salazar Slytherin rattling around inside your head and he's nothing close to being the bigoted bastard everyone thinks he is." He paused. "Uhm… Hermione… just how much do they see? When they're inside your head, I mean."

She blinked. "I… well… everything if they're up front at the time, but most of the time they just sort of… hover in the back of my head. I can usually call someone up if I need something, but it's not as though they're spying on me all the time." He let his relief show. "So… just how big of a freak do you think I am now?"

Cedric blinked. "What?" She still had that nervous, little-girl-lost expression in her eyes. "Hey, come here." He reached up and took hold of her wrist, gently pulling her lower until she had no choice but to stretch out next to him. He lay on his side, facing her and slipped one hand about her waist. "You are the most extraordinary person I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. And if anyone calls you a freak, they'll have to answer to me." He gave her a gentle hug, pulling her against him briefly. "Provided they aren't stupid enough to say it in front of the twins, in which case there may not be much left of them." It may have been corny, but it got the desired result of her letting out a brief laugh. A weak laugh, but a laugh all the same.

"I expected you to run screaming."

He trailed his fingers lightly up and down a three-inch section of her spine. "Not likely to happen. I already suspected something was up. I can remember everything that happened that night, Hermione. What I was capable of noticing at any rate. Towards the end there was too much pain to see through. I remember trying to tell Harry that we needed to help you, but he didn't realize I meant you were there as well. I couldn't see the fight other than flashes of light. I clearly remembered being dead and I definitely remembered your voice talking to me. And to the others, for that matter." He smiled at her. "I'm not Head Boy for nothing, you know. I'm clever enough to put things together."

She rolled her eyes. "I know you are. Still, I guess I've had Kathryn and Professor Dumbledore telling me to keep things quiet for so long I'm afraid to let anyone know. I'm afraid of what they'll think of me."

"They have a point." He frowned a bit. "Dad works for the Ministry and they can be idiots when the mood strikes them. Even more so than what they're doing now with Harry and Dumbledore. They don't like to listen, and I doubt they'd stop long enough for you to explain the difference between you and a necromancer before they had you hauled off to Azkaban for safe keeping. And if they did, they'd likely shut you up in the Department of Mysteries for study. The main trouble with the Ministry is that it's run by the purebloods, and the purebloods fear change. All the silly talk of pureblood versus mudblood aside, the thing muggleborns have that scares them the most is the desires to change. They're willing to leave the world they've always known to come into ours, and when they do they bring fresh ideas."

Hermione frowned a bit, looking into his eyes. "You're very wise, Cedric."

He gave her a crooked smile. "Don't sound so surprised, Hermione. You'll bruise my ego."

"You don't have an ego."

"Of course I do. Everyone does." He nuzzled her nose with his own, giving her another gentle squeeze. It would be wonderful to stay where they were, lying on the soft pillows and just holding one another for the rest of the night. However, he did not think that would be wise given that he and Professor Snape were still circling one another as he continued his attempts to firmly establish himself as an important part of Hermione's life. "We'd better be going. Harry and Ron will wonder where you've got off to, and I'd never forgive myself if I let you faint from hunger."

She grumbled a bit, not wanting to ruin the sweetness of the moment any more than he. Still, she allowed him to coax her to her feet before smoothing over her hair. They claimed their satchels and made their way out of the Room of Requirement to join the others for dinner. Sure enough, Ron and Harry had saved her a seat at Gryffindor table, and they were not the only ones who noticed the Head Boy and Know-It-All Granger entering the Great Hall together. Whispers abounded as he walked her escorted her over to join her friends, and more than a few giggles could be heard.

Cedric made his way over to join his own table, Dylan and Sebastian exchanging knowing smirks as he did so. "What?"

"Just wondering how much to put down, Ced." Dylan claimed a bit more roast for his plate.

"Put down for what?"

Sebastian snorted. "Fred and George Weasley have opened a betting pool as to how long before Professor Snape tries to kill you. They say the pot's gotten pretty big."

He shook his head. "Professor Snape is not going to try and kill me." Dylan nodded in agreement.

"I'm going to see if they let me put down a galleon for emasculation, instead. Granted, death might be preferable."

"Don't make me give the both of you detention." They laughed, knowing he would never give them detention for something so trivial.


	30. Chapter 30

_November 13th, 1978_

"That tickles."

Severus gave a smirk as he traced the outline of the oval shaped tattoo on the small of her back. It was not the first time he had made a study of it. She remained facing away from him, her bare back exposed all the way down, only a bed sheet draping her staring from about mid-way down the curve of her hip. "What's the story behind this, anyway?"

She rolled over onto her stomach, her arms slipping up and underneath her pillow as she turned her sleepy eyes towards him. "What's the story behind yours?"

His smirk died, but he took the hint to drop the subject. She knew he would not divulge the secrets behind the Dark Mark to her. It was for her own good, really. Instead he moved flat on his back and folded his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. "You were gone for over a week."

"I wasn't aware that I was supposed to check in with you." She lifted her head up to peer at him. "You're not trying to alter our arrangement, are you Severus?"

"Of course not." No, he was not trying to alter the agreement. No emotional attachment. No strings. An easy enough promise to keep with a muggle when his heart was firmly somewhere else. Had Kathryn had the decency to be born a witch, however, it might be a different story altogether. Even without love, he would have pressed for marriage had she been a witch. Neither of them needed love at any rate. Kathryn was like him, cold inside. Perhaps even colder. She had no use for emotional entanglements. But the pair of them fit together well.

He felt the bed shift and lowered his arms as Kathy's lean form came over him to straddle his hips. His hands moved to her sides, a thumb reaching out to trace the angry pucker of an old scar just below her ribs. Kathryn had several scars. Some he recognized as cuts from a blade. There were also a couple of round scars that looked to be from one of those guns that muggles used. Her body was a testament to just how strong and resilient the woman was, even if she did not talk to him about the altercations that had put those scars there.

Keeping Kathryn as a lover was akin to keeping a pet tiger. The beast may look and act tame most of the time, but there was always the danger that she would turn on you. That was Kathryn, even though she had never shown any violence towards him. The fact that she could was there in the tension of her muscles just beneath her skin. It was in the sharpness of the knives and blades she practiced with almost daily.

They had journeyed into London one night, the pair of them seeking out a bar where they could have a few strong drinks before going back to her flat. The night would not have been important save for the pair of men who had approached them, lust in their eyes and apparently under the mistaken belief that she would rather have them than remain with her current escort. Severus had been about to go for his wand when Kathy was suddenly no longer at his side. Instead, she was behind the smaller of the two men, a knife pressed to his throat, and the larger one on the ground, groaning and clutching his crotch in pain. Severus had never seen her move.

It was just one more of the little things that made him question just how 'muggle' she was.

His body came to attention with little effort on her part. His fingers trailed over her hips as she leveraged herself upwards and impaled body onto his. She was still not quite wet enough, and he was not a small man, but she liked it this way. Kathy always liked a little pain with her sex. Nothing too heavy or sadistic, but she did not mind if it he bit her hard enough to bruise or even break the skin a bit. He could make her purr by pulling her hair a bit too firmly.

She was almost perfect.

* * *

Severus was pulled out of his sleep by the sound of angry shouts and curses. His eyes flicked over to the mantle and he saw that it was only one in the morning. With a snarl he threw the covers of his bed aside and got up, pulling on his robe as he did so.

Oh, the trials of being Head of Slytherin House!

He stormed from his quarters through his office and ducked through the secret door behind a heavy tapestry. He was not actually that close to the student dorms, but some key enchantments were in place and meant to alert him to any problems. As he made his way down the spiral stone staircase and through another secret door that let out in an alcove on one side of the common room, a 'problem' was what he found.

Draco and Blaise were engaged in what could only be a full out brawl. Severus hovered behind the bust of Salazar Slytherin as his eyes moved over the scene, taking in the clues. Most of the students were still in their pajamas. Miss Parkinson was surrounded by her dorm mates, clutching her bed robe to her like a lifeline and trying to stifle her sobs with a hand to her mouth. Malfoy had Zabini pinned to the floor, but the darker boy was too busy laughing to feel threatened.

"It's not like she's even that good! Her mum was much better!"

Pansy gave a mortified wail, hiding her face in Miss Greengrass' shoulder. Mr. Zabini had struck again.

"Draco! Blaise! Stop this at once!" His voice filled the common room. Most of the students sprung away, but Draco was too intent on murder to care. Severus stalked across the room and drug the boy up by the collar of his robe. "I said stop!"

Zabini smirked up at Malfoy as he casually picked himself up off the floor. He smoothed out his robe, retying the belt and acting as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He even sent a wink over to Miss Greengrass. From any other boy it would have been mere bravado. From a Zabini it was a clear 'you're next'.

That impotency potion was sounding more and more like a marvelous idea.

"Malfoy. Blaise. My office. Now!"

* * *

Hermione frowned at the red velvet curtains about her bed. _"Excuse me?"_

_"I asked what it was that you wanted to learn?"_

_"I don't understand."_

She heard Salazar chuckle. _"It occurred to me that everything you study and learn is because others tell you to do so. The teachers set your course curriculum. You have mastered dueling and physical fighting because Kathryn insisted on it. You're studying the animagus transformation because it's felt by the Order that it could be useful for you to do so. No one, however, has asked what _you_ would like to learn and master. I am rectifying that oversight."_

He was correct. No one had ever asked her what _she_, Hermione Granger, wanted to learn. It was a novel concept, but now that she was faced with it she had no idea. _"I don't know."_

_"Consider it. I am certain something will come to you. I will be ready to listen once it does."_

She pulled herself out from the solitude of her bed and padded to the lavatory. Sure she could use the prefects' bath, but she did not want to bother with getting completely dressed and walking all the way down there. Not in the morning. She might indulge in a leisurely bath, however, at the end of the day.

Cleaned and soon dressed, she packed the books she needed for the day into her satchel and made her way out of the tower. There was still a good hour or more left for breakfast before classes and her stomach was in full-blown snarl mode. Right now she might even be able to eat her Potions textbook and find it quite delectable.

Harry and Ron had saved her a seat at the Gryffindor table, waving her over when they saw her enter the Great Hall. Ron's face broke into a large grin when he presented her with the last of the strawberry jam, which he had saved for her knowing it was her favorite. "Thank you, Ron."

"Anything for our Hermione." Still, he did snatch a bit of the jam for his toast, not that she minded. She spread some onto a slice for herself. It went wonderfully with scrambled eggs and bacon. Oh, and pumpkin juice was the perfect finishing touch. And she was not eating like a starved hippogriff. Honest!

"They won't take the food away before you're finished, Hermione." Harry smirked at her as Ron sniggered around a mouthful of sausage. They always found it amusing how she could practically inhale her food while still maintaining decent manners.

"Stuff it."

"Or you'll what? Swear at us?" Ron reached for the pitcher, grinning.

"I don't swear!"

"Oh, really? Well, Ron, we must have been hearing things at the Welcoming Feast."

"I don't know, Harry, sounded like swearing to me."

She frowned at them. "What are you two on about?"

"What was it she said? I can't quite remember."

Harry screwed up his face as though trying to concentrate on something. "Y'know, Ron, it's right on the tip of my tongue. Rather inventive, actually. Crap-Flame-Something-or-Other…"

Ron nodded. "Close, but I think it was more like Shit-Fire-Moth-Umph!"

Hermione and slapped her hand over Ron's mouth before he could go any further. Had she really let _that_ slip out where they could hear? "Not another syllable. I was in a state of shock and cannot be held accountable for my actions."

Harry grinned. "We're just surprised you know those words. Scandalous, coming from a prefect and all."

"Shut it. Both of you." She yanked her hand away when Ron licked her palm, wiping it dry on a napkin. "That's gross." He did not look one bit ashamed.

A screech drew their attention upwards as the morning owls arrived. They swooped over the tables, dropping letters, parcels and copies of _The Daily Prophet_ down upon the students. Hermione caught her paper easily, opening it up and handing the sports section to Ron out of habit. That done, she propped the rest against the juice pitcher to read the front-page stories as she finished her breakfast. She did not get far, however, before she dropped her fork back into her eggs. "I don't believe it."

"Believe what?" Ron was marking on the page holding the Quidditch scores, making note of who would advance in the league. His quill paused, however, as he noticed a swell of whispering growing throughout the Great Hall.

"Look at this!" Hermione snatched up the paper and flattened it out for the other two to see. "Minister of Magic Appoints High Inquisitor for Hogwarts."

Harry frowned. "High Inquisitor? That doesn't sound pleasant, or like anything we want to happen. What's this all about, then?"

Hermione was reading the printed lines very quickly. "That witch Fudge wanted to send to teach DADA, Delores Umbridge, he's sending her on anyway to poke her nose into things. He's citing concerns about the education being provided at Hogwarts and is giving her the authority to observe classes and made assessments of the teachers and their abilities."

Ron blinked. Harry looked incensed. "That's outrageous! Who does Fudge think he is, poking his nose in at Hogwarts?"

Hermione shook her head, but the voice inside was even more upset. _"It's tantamount to slapping the headmaster in the face! What does a politician know about education anyway? The Ministry has never interfered with this school! Hogwarts teaches the politicians, not the other way around!"_

_"It appears that they wish to change that practice. I knew Fudge was paranoid, but this is beyond ridiculous!" _She made an irritated noise in the back of her throat and looked up at the head table. Professor Dumbledore was absent; a fact that just about everyone was taking note of. Turning about on her seat, Hermione looked over at the Hufflepuff table to find Cedric leaning forward and conversing with several of the older students, his expression serious. Clearly she, Harry and Ron were not he only ones concerned about this turn of events.

"Mione, you know what you said at the start of term about this being a long year?"

"What about it, Ron?"

"I think you're dead on."

She sighed. "I wish I weren't. This isn't going to be pretty."


	31. Chapter 31

"She rather looks like a giant, pink toad, doesn't she." It was not a question. Ron was leaning over so he could see around Hermione and Harry and catch a better view of the woman standing on the raised platform where the head table was placed. She did look like a toad, and the tiny fly-like bow on the top of her head was not helping matters. "I can see what Sirius meant about doubting she was shagging Fudge. Ugly thing, ain't she? I doubt even a troll could get it up for that."

"Ronald!" Hermione glared at him for his use of language, but he only smirked at her. Her glares were not anywhere close to as effective now that they had clearly heard her curse. They thought her new vocabulary was highly amusing, even.

She looked over at the Hufflepuff table where a few of the prefects from his house and Ravenclaw had gone over to his side, bending down somewhat to speak with him, eyes darting occasionally towards Umbridge. The head boy was hearing all their concerns with the serious, firmly jaw-set expression he had taken to wearing more and more often these days. The duties that came with his badge were heavy and quite the bother when you were supposed to be preparing for NEWTs. Hermione knew that their now bi-weekly training sessions were more and more important to him as they let him work off the tension and the stress. And if they developed into a bit of a snogging session, so be it.

She pulled her mind away from thoughts of Cedric, as difficult as that was for her, and recalled that it was Thursday. "We need to get going. We're supposed to meet with Sirius for our extra class."

'Extra Class' was what she had taken to calling their secret tutoring sessions while they studied for the animagus transformation. If Harry and Ron had thought they were going to be able to goof off during their meetings and just get Hermione to help them catch up afterwards, Sirius had disabused them of the notion quickly. He might joke and laugh with them, but he was serious about teaching them. The animagus transformation could go horribly wrong and he wanted to be certain that there were not any unfortunate mishaps. The more time they spent with him, the more Hermione came to respect Sirius' skills as a teacher. He was very good at it, though he admitted that he got frequent pointers from Lupin.

They found him in his office atop the short, spiral staircase at the front of the DADA classroom. As always he had biscuits and pudding there, knowing that they skipped the desert portion of dinner to be on time. He sprawled nonchalantly in his chair as they piled in, dropping their satchels by the door. "I understand Fudge's little snitch has made her way here safely. Pity that. I had a wager with Moony that she would meet with some unfortunate end while en route."

"Sirius! That's a horrible thing to say!"

"But not a horrible thing to hope. I assure you, Hermione, she is not to be trusted." He waved them over to take their seats that were set up to complete a rough circle around the small table holding the sweets. "Now, I'm certain you finished the reading. What about you two?" His eyes peered at Harry and Ron who grinned back smugly. They _h__ad_ done the reading this time. They had blown it off the previous week and did not desire having a repeat of the lecture he had given them.

They were progressing much further faster than when the Marauders had tried to do this back in their day. Sirius believed it was because they had a teacher helping them rather than trying to figure it out on their own. He was able to cut through the many books he and James had found to direct them only to the ones that were actually useful, brining them to the point they had come to this evening. It was his hope that one of them might actually manage the transformation this evening.

Hermione wondered what animal she would turn into. She would dearly love to become a cat like Professor McGonagall. Or perhaps an Owl, though she doubted that since she was not comfortable with flying. If she was going to be something larger, then she thought she might like to be a Rhodesian Ridgeback, the breed of dog used to hunt lions in South Africa. She had a cousin who had one and it was a beautiful animal and surprisingly gentle given the breed's reputation as hunters.

Harry was hoping to be a stag like his father. Ron was just hoping to get it right. Tonight they were supposed to relax and let their minds 'wander' over the magic, trying to get in touch with the animal they would become and hopefully manage to actually become said animal.

Hermione ignored the sweets, feeling perfectly full from dinner, and relaxed into her chair. She could hear Ron and Harry helping themselves and shut out the sound of their smacking. Sirius gave a chuckle and she knew he was amused at the differences between her and her two best friends. She shut him out as well as she recalled what he had told them about tonight.

She pushed the din of their voices away, much like she would push away the thoughts of the Great Majority when she wanted to concentrate. Drawing herself inwards, she imagined herself letting the magic overtake her. She could almost feel it bubbling up from inside of her and cascading over her skin, almost as though she was not wearing clothes at all.

Then she thought she felt her ears twitch.

_"Don't lose your focus, Hermione."_ Salazar's sibilant voice was a whisper in the back of her mind._"Maintain your concentration and let the magic guide you where it will."_

She gripped the mental reigns of her magic again and pressed on. Ron, Harry and Sirius barely even registered as a blip on her metaphysical radar any longer as she felt her skin tingle and warm. Just a bit more. Only a little bit more.

Then there was the feeling much like what you might get when riding a roller coaster as the train plummeted down the highest hill.

She opened her eyes and found herself looking upwards with strangely altered vision. Everything seemed to be a mixture light, but no true colors. The boys were brighter than the table, but the hearth behind them was brighter than all three wizards in the room. She could not actually hear their voices very well so much as feel the sounds they were making through every part of her with those sensations eventually making their way to her 'ears' and becoming something recognizable.

Once she got over the initial disorientation she realized that the now recognizable sound was Harry laughing. Through her now poor vision she saw that Ron's chair was overturned, leaving him sprawled onto the floor. Salazar's voice was dry inside her mind. _"Well, this is unexpected."_

What was unexpected?

Hermione looked about, trying to get a glimpse of her new self. She swung her head around, which required swinging a portion of her body around, and saw what the fuss was about.

She lost her control and morphed back into Hermione Granger instantly. "Bloody fucking hell!"

"Do you kiss young Mr. Diggory with that mouth?" Had Sirius' voice been toast not all the butter in the world would have combated the dryness. Her swearing sent Harry off into a fresh peal of laughter.

"It's not funny, Harry!" She was aware that she was wailing, but she did not really care at the moment. "This is a disaster!"

_"I don't see what's so disastrous about it."_

She ignored the offended tone of Salazar's voice as she glared at her 'best friend'. This could not be happening. "I want something else!"

Sirius shook his head. "It doesn't work that way, Hermione. We don't get to choose what we turn into. The magic seeks out inner characteristics of yourself."

Ron pulled himself up off the floor. "She turned into a great, dirty snake!"

Harry snorted. "Yes, but she was a cute snake. Didn't you see her tail? It was all twisty and curly." He wriggled the pinky of his left hand to illustrate, his grin broad.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Harry. "I'm going to hurt you." He started laughing again and she took a step in his direction. Sirius stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Calm down, Hermione. If you're looking for someone to blame, I'd say lay the fault at Snivellus' feet. After all, he's the Slytherin in your happy little family."

"I don't want to be a snake! What good is a snake in the British Isles anyway? It's bloody cold here most of the time! "

Harry finally came up for air. "She's got a point there, Sirius. And she looked like that python I set on Dudley my first year. They're used to warmer climates. She'll freeze."

Sirius gave a sigh and patted her shoulder supportively. "I know it's not ideal, but it's what you've got to work with." Harry was sniggering again, causing Sirius to arch a brow. "And, unlike this pair of wastrels, you actually managed to get it right." That shut up the boys. Harry and Ron blinked at their teacher, then glowered before settling into their own chairs to begin working. They did not manage to change that night, and Sirius awarded Gryffindor twenty-five points for her excellent progress.

* * *

Cedric forced himself to keep his attention focused on Professor Black and what he was teaching. It was not an easy feat for him. Today was a practice day, which meant that he would be meeting Hermione up in the Room of Requirement. Just the two of them, alone for two hours or more. Two hours of watching Hermione's lithe form twist and turn without the voluminous robes to hide her figure.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He really had to stop thinking about her like this. It was distracting him from everything else and he really did need to keep focused. NEWTs were nothing to take lightly.

"And so, the problem with inferi is that they are already dead and thus bloody hard to take down a second time. But it can be done." Black was walking the aisles between their desks, the notes they were to take down appearing magically on the board at the front of the room. Cedric's quill moved over his parchment dutifully as Black continued on.

_Of course, the ideal situation is just have Hermione ask them to stop._ There he went again. Letting his thoughts wander to his girlfriend.

"Can I help you?"

Cedric felt himself being pulled out of his musings by the question. He looked over at Professor Black who was standing about two meters in front of him but looking towards the back of the classroom. All of the students turned around to see who had arrived and found themselves looking at the fuzzy pink form of the school's 'High Inquisitor'.

He felt that familiar tug of annoyance. His father had mentioned Umbridge more than once. An unpleasant woman with a thirst for power. She thought the sun shone out of Fudge's arse, apparently oblivious to his multitude of flaws. From everything he had heard of the woman she was a nasty piece of work. Her being in the school could not be good.

The toad like woman gave a smile that did not reach her eyes before speaking in that high, girlish voice that made Cedric's skin crawl. "So sorry to interrupt, Professor Black, but I was needing to schedule a time to observe your class in its entirety."

Sirius arched a brow, his thumbs hooking into the pockets of his waistcoat. "Observe?"

"Exactly, Professor Black. The Ministry of Magic is requesting an audit of all Hogwarts classes and their teachers." She pulled out a clipboard from behind her back and perused it with pursed lips. "Would… Wednesday next be all right with you? During your fifth year Gryffindor/Slytherin class. Yes, I believe that would be for the best."

Black gave a smile just as cold as hers, coupling it with a jaunty tilt of his head. "Of course, Madam. I look forward to seeing you there. Now, class, as I was saying…"

"Hem. Hem."

Sirius arched a brow and looked back towards Umbridge. "Something more?"

"Pardon me once more, Professor Black, but I am curious as to why you think it appropriate to instruct these students on inferi."

The students all looked back towards Black, who was looking at Umbridge with an expression of feigned surprise. "Because dark wizards have been known to raise them and set them against innocent people. Not to mention that they're covered in the chapter of the text we're currently studying."

Cedric fought to keep from smirking.

"I see. Then, perhaps, the text you've chosen for this class is not appropriate for this school?"

"And why would you think that, Madam?"

Umbridge gave a girlish twittered. Someone should tell her that you really needed a few dimples and corkscrew curls to pull that voice off. "Why, because, Professor Black, it is hardly likely that any of these students are going to be attacked by inferi."

Black gave her a look of polite inquiry; his feet moving lazily up the aisle. "And how do you know that, Madam?"

Delores blinked. "Surely, Professor Black, you don't believe someone is going to attack children."

"Oh, I will admit that the idea of someone using dark magic against an innocent youth is distasteful. It is our nature to protect the young, is it not? However, not every witch or wizard in this world has the same decent nature. Why, Mr. Diggory here can attest to that." He had reached Cedric's desk and gave him a firm clap on the shoulder. "There are monsters in this world, Delores."

Umbridge squared her shoulders. "Surely you have not believed the lies stating that You Know Who has returned."

Cedric felt Black's fingers squeeze into his shoulder reflexively. The wizard was keeping his temper in check and somehow managing to keep his voice to its usual, winning tone. "I do not believe they are lies, Madam. However, if it turns out that they are the results of mistaken identity, it still stands that someone _has_ used dark magic against young wizards not yet out of school. And even if Voldemort," he ignored the flinches and gasps from around the room, "has not returned, then it is only a matter of time before the next power-hungry megalomaniac bent on world domination rears his annoying head."

Umbridge seemed a bit confused. "I beg your pardon."

Sirius released his shoulder to wave his hand about. "Voldemort was not a fluke, Madam. Before him was Grindewald, and before that was Higgenthrope. And there were others before that. If you remember your History of Magic you will recall that one of the bastards pops up at least once or twice a century, sometimes even more frequently."

He turned away from the woman to address the class as a whole. "That is what you must remember, students, and why you must learn your defenses. We should not go through life paranoid and jumping at our own shadows, but we should be ready to stand and protect ourselves and those we love if need be. Greed and lust can make even a sane man turn to evil, and when evil settles into the heart of a wizard the results can be disastrous. And this is coming from a man raised in a family of such idiots. There is no clear limit as to what a trained wizard with a mind bent on destruction can do, such as bringing the dead out of their graves to do his dirty work for him."

And, just like that, Delores Umbridge was forgotten. Cedric glanced back just in time to watch the annoying woman pull herself up straight, lift her chin haughtily and stalk from the room. This time he did allow himself to smirk. He had harbored his doubts about Sirius Black when the headmaster had introduced him at the beginning of term, but now he had to admit; the man was good.


	32. Chapter 32

"I'm sorry? Could you repeat that? I can't have heard you properly."

Severus was inclined to agree with Black, but he would never admit to it vocally. Instead he merely concentrated on stirring his sugar into his tea as Sirius studied the odious woman. He sent up a silent prayer to whatever power ruled the universe that Umbridge had not become an actual teacher.

"As I said, the Ministry of Magic feels that a theoretical knowledge of defense should be sufficient enough to get the students through their examinations, which is what school is all about in the first place." Umbridge gave another one of those girlish giggles. Black might very well deserve a medal for not killing her for that alone. "There should be no need for them to use spells inside the classroom."

"Really." Severus watched as Black added too much sugar to his own tea. "And what about the practicals?"

Delores blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

Black opened his hands wide as he leaned back in his chair. "The practicals. The portion of the examinations where the students are supposed to demonstrate that they can _do_ the magic, not just write down the theory of it. As I recall they were quite vicious, and you're already nervous about it. Surely you don't expect these students to manage through the physical portion of their exams without first actually _doing_ the spells."

Umbridge faltered. Severus hid his smirk behind his cup as she came up with a rather pathetic response. "If they learn the theory well enough, they should have no trouble with the practicals." It was all he could do not to laugh. Black did not bother to hold back.

"Ha! No trouble? Oh, I'll admit there are a few who could manage it. Hermione Granger for one. A couple of the Ravenclaw students likely could pull it off. Oh, and that Casanova of yours, Snape. The dark one."

Severus arched a brow. "Mr. Zabini?" Yes, he could probably manage a spell the first time. He was cleverer than he let on.

"Yeah, that one." Black looked back to Umbridge. "At any rate, the students need to practice the spells if they're to pull them off come time for their examinations."

Umbridge pulled herself up to her full height. She still looked pathetically undersized when faced with Black. Even while seated anyone could tell he would tower over the woman. "Am I to understand that you are going to ignore the Minister's recommendation?"

"You understand correctly. Tea?" He held up the silver tea service, his expression mildly polite. Black's ability to be charming in any situation truly was amazing, as much as it was annoying. Still, watching Delores turn her nose up and stride from the teachers' lounge in all her haughtiness was entertaining if nothing else.

"Fudge has really lost it. His paranoia is getting worse by the day." The bane of his existence ran a hand through his shaggy black hair before craning his neck to look at Severus over his shoulder. "I mean, really! Teach the students defense without having them actually practice the spells? It would be like sending lambs out to slaughter."

"We know why he's doing it, Black." He downed the rest of his tea and made to rise. "At any rate, you're more likely to be a target of her attacks than I. The Ministry is bound to believe you're the Headmaster's lapdog, considering all the effort he put into getting your name cleared. Fudge probably believes you to be the general in Dumbledore's non-existent army."

Black grinned one of his lop-sided grins. "That's not a bad idea, that. If that old toad is going to be watching the kids like she is…" He trailed off, scratching at his jaw line with his eyes narrowed in contemplation.

"What are you scheming about?"

"Nothing, Snivellus. Nothing you need to concern yourself with at any rate."

Snape's eyes narrowed into a glare. "If you do anything that results in my daughter being expelled from this school, I will be measuring my office for a new dog-skin rug."

Sirius waved off his threat. "Don't worry about it. Besides, the girl can take care of herself. You shouldn't smother her so." He looked at the clock on the wall. "It's Tuesday, isn't it?"

"Congratulations, Black. You've learned how to read a calendar."

"Funny. I was just thinking that I'll have to talk to the kids some other time. This is the night Hermione has to do the family thing with you, after all." He looked back towards Snape. "I still can't believe that adorable little witch came from you. Must be more to you than meets the eye."

"Yes, well, just keep in mind that 'adorable little witch' is young enough to be your daughter as well."

"Oi! I'm not going to lay a hand on the girl. Besides, she's already set her eyes on Diggory, the lucky bastard. Good match, there, Snivellus. He's almost as clever as she is and quite the wizard."

"Go change your flea collar, Black."

Sirius narrowed his gaze. "You're not giving the boy a hard time, are you?"

"No more than is my right as a father, not that it is any concern of yours." Having had quite enough of Black's company, Severus tugged his robes smooth and left the lounge. Not giving the boy a hard time, indeed!

If the truth were to be told, he was starting to accept Diggory. He doubted he would ever be fond of the boy, but Black was correct in his assessment that it was a good match. A pureblood from a good family with not so much as a whisper of shady dealings as well as a talented wizard, and as he was the consummate Hufflepuff he was more likely to be pursuing Hermione based on her own merits rather than the sizeable fortune she held at Gringotts or for any political or social connections. If the girl had to marry one day, she could do far worse.

However, the idea of Hermione getting married still did not sit well with him. He supposed it was the natural inclination of a father not to want to dwell on the thought that his daughter would one day be a woman and inclined to do the things adults do. Perhaps it was time to reintroduce the concept of chastity belts into society.

* * *

"Are you certain you want to do this?" Cedric nodded. He looked uncertain, but stubbornly set upon his course. Hermione studied him for a moment before giving him an encouraging smile and knocking on the door to Severus' private quarters.

She had been surprised when the message from her biological father had arrived, inviting her to extend her usual invitation to his quarters so that it included Cedric. Something inside of her was not altogether at ease with the prospect of the two wizards in her life being in the same room outside of a classroom setting. She really did not want to play referee tonight.

The door swung open without warning, but as it always did Hermione took it in stride. She stepped through first, followed by Cedric once he had steeled himself. The hearth had been stoked so that the damp chill normally present in the dungeon levels was banished. In spite of what the rumors were about school, Severus did not decorate his personal abode with skeletons and specimens in jars; those were in his private workroom. His living quarters were quite cozy, if somewhat Spartan, and were thick with bookcases ladened with all manner of tomes.

For tonight the modest table had been set for three. The house elves had provided a scrumptious cake with lemon curd filling and delicate sugared flowers for their tea. It seemed oddly out of place in this room, better suited for a table meant for Professor Sprout or perhaps even Professor Flitwick. Severus was more of a shortbread kind of person, simple and unadorned.

She heard Cedric clear his throat as quietly as he could manage and realized that Severus had turned his black gaze upon her boyfriend. "Thank you for inviting me to join you, Sir."

Hermione swallowed at looked towards her biological father. Severus raked an appraising gaze over the student he had seen often over the past six-plus years. "Yes, well, as you seem determined to make yourself an important part of my daughter's life, I suppose I have no other option but to become better acquainted with you." He waved a hand at the table. "Be seated. Both of you."

That was about as polite as Severus ever got. He truly was a surly, often nasty, individual. Still, he had not drawn his wand or threatened to poison Cedric, so she supposed it was a start. She summoned a polite smile and took Ced by the hand, leading him over to the table. He pulled out her chair for her and let her be seated first. They were past such painfully proper behavior, but he seemed determined not to make any misstep upon which Severus might pounce.

Hermione took it upon herself to serve the tea and lemon cake. Severus took his with two sugars. Cedric took his with one sugar, just to knock the bitter off, and a splash of cream. She took hers with honey. She was cutting slices of the lemon cake when Severus opened up with the first salvo.

"So, Mr. Diggory, your achievements while here at school have been exemplary, but have you given any thought as to what you plan to do with the rest of your life?"

She placed a plate with a slice of cake before Severus as her eyes glanced over to Cedric. His shoulders squared unconsciously before he answered. "My ultimate goal is to join the diplomatic corps of the Ministry of Magic. I've always found foreign affairs and negotiating trade and treaty agreements to be fascinating work."

"Your 'ultimate goal'? What are you plans in the short term?" Her father picked up a silver fork with his long fingers, letting the tines hover over the soft cake.

"I'm being heavily scouted by several professional Quidditch teams. It has been brought to my attention that I should consider taking advantage of my youth and fitness now by signing on as a seeker. Try my hand at gaining fame and fortune that way first while making connections with foreign players that are likely doing the same. It would be a good way to lay the ground work for my future."

She had not known that the teams were scouting him. Perhaps she should start paying more attention to the Quidditch talk. She gave Cedric his slice of cake before claiming one for herself. Severus did not seem to be impressed. "Professional Quidditch? That requires a life out on the road, not to mention the slatterns that most skilled athletes attract." She looked up and met his black eyes with a warning look. Severus ignored it. "How do you intend to nurture a serious relationship if you are always away from home?"

Cedric took up his own fork but did not start in on his cake right away. "It should be about as difficult as keeping up a relationship when Hermione has two more years of schooling after I graduate, Sir. I am well aware that things will often time be strained between us, but Hermione would hex me into the next century if I were to hover over her constantly."

She frowned. "Why would I do that?"

Cedric slid a smile her way. "It would interfere with your studies. I'm far too clever to do something _that_ foolish. I know that if it came down to you choosing between your books and me, I'd likely lose."

Hermione gasped. "That's not true!" Cedric looked unconvinced. She looked towards Severus and found him smirking as he looked to cutting another bite of his cake. She sat back in her chair with a huff. "There's nothing wrong with being serious about learning."

"Nothing wrong with it at all," agreed her father, "and I am quite pleased that you are. And I have to admit that Mr. Diggory here is handling things far better than I would have predicted. Of course, he still has to go through this entire process again. Or have you already met the Grangers, Mr. Diggory?"

The color drained from Cedric's face. Hermione thought he suddenly looked quite ill. Surely he could not be afraid of meeting her parents! Compared to Professor Severus Snape the Grangers were practically kittens!

* * *

Hermione gaped at Sirius. Surely Umbridge had to be joking; only she was quite certain that the woman had no sense of humor whatsoever. "But… how do they expect us to pass the practicals?"

"Precisely the question I asked her. She didn't have a satisfactory answer, either." He glanced over at Harry and Ron who were concentrating on completing their animagus transformations and had not heard the quiet conversation between friend and teacher. "This means, of course, that she'll be watching the students even more closely than before."

She shook her head in disbelief. "How can the Minister of Magic think Dumbledore has designs on his position? It's insane! And to continue to bury his head in the sand over all the disappearances and everything!"

"I know, Hermione. The entire Order is aware that Fudge has lost it. We even suspect that he might be bewitched in some manner, though his actions aren't quite on par with _Imperious_. And he's acting too clear headed to be confunded, though granted it's hard to tell with Fudge."

She gave a huff. "How did that man become Minister of Magic in the first place?"

"By saying all the right things and having all the right connections. Most of them the old families with their extensive power and wealth. Of course that means most of them are former Slytherin students and more than a few of them were Death Eaters even if they did manage to talk their way out of Azkaban. Hopefully after the dust settles this time the heroes of this war will be able to correct the social ills that plague our society."

Hermione frowned. "Such as?"

Sirius arched a brow in her direction. He was reclining in his chair, looking boneless and comfortable. "First and foremost the severe lack of half-bloods and muggleborns in positions of power. The old families are dying out as it is, and they are too blinded by their own prejudices and pride to see that they're over bred. Idiot children. _Hideous_ children. Failed births and failing power."

"But you're a pureblood. Of course, there are always exceptions to the rule, and perhaps they haven't quite gone too far just yet. I mean, look at the Weasleys. Seven children, all of whom are exceptional in some way. Even Ron when he doesn't let himself get too caught up in feeling overshadowed."

"Oh, there are always exceptions, Hermione, but I promised myself long ago I would never marry a pureblood if I ever married at all. James had the right idea, marrying Lily. Of course, it helped that he was completely knackered over her from the day he first set eyes on her. The man had a weakness for red hair. I imagine his son will fall prey to it soon enough, once he gets over his fascination with Miss Chang."

Hermione frowned and glanced over at Harry, who was currently muttering with Ron over one of the books. "You don't think it's serious, then? Harry and Cho, I mean?"

Black shook his head. "It feels real enough to Harry, of course, but it isn't even a candle flame compared to what James felt for Lily at your age. No, I rather think that Miss Weasley's patience will reward her in the end. It might be a year or two yet before Harry wises up to it, but it will happen." A smirk tugged at his lips. "Of course, I don't envy the row that's likely to cause between him and Ron."

She covered her mouth and nose as a snort threatened to escape her. Yes, that likely would be a fight for all to see. Fred and George could sell tickets, provided they were not helping Ron by holding Harry's arms back so he could pummel him properly.

"So, Hermione, what do you think you should do about Umbridge?"

She blinked and looked at Sirius. "What should _I_ do?"

"Not just you, but all of you." A bit of the young, prankster Sirius glittered from out of the wizard's eyes. "She's not going to lay off for us to teach you properly in class, so what do you propose is to be done about it?"

Hermione frowned and looked down at the open textbook lying forgotten on the coffee table. "Well, I suppose we'll have to take it upon ourselves to practice. Though we'll have to do it under her nose, and that won't be easy. She's using Slytherin House as her own personal spies. Not to mention Filch. I think he's barely holding back from proposing."

Sirius grimaced. "There's an image I didn't need. Can you imagine what their children would look like? Still, her greasy little fingers will be in the way and often." He beamed. "Fortunately for the more scholastically minded, the current generation of Hogwarts has you three to do their thinking for them. Of course, as a teacher I must insist on being kept out of the loop. Whatever you three come up with, I don't want to know about it. That way I can't be forced to rat you out."

There was a certain sense to that, of course. Hermione gave a little nod that froze halfway as Ron let out a yelp. She and Sirius looked over to find a rather large and somewhat disoriented stag trying to find purchase on the floor without trampling the furniture. He was failing miserably as he sent the serving tray with their nightly snacks and tea tumbling over. Ron was scrambling away from the animal to keep from being stomped.

Sirius gave a bark of laughter and clapped soundly. "Well, hardly a surprise, is it?"

Hermione smiled as the stag shifted back into a rosy cheeked, pleased looking Harry. "No, it's not a surprise in the slightest."


	33. Chapter 33

Cedric sighed and shoved another useless tome out of the way. Of course, the fact that he couldn't keep his mind focused on his work because of distraction could mean that it wasn't entirely useless. He just couldn't seem to keep these thoughts from running back to the meeting at the Hog's Head.

Hermione's 'few people' had turned into a sizeable number. Far more than she had anticipated and so many that they clearly drew notice. Otherwise Umbridge's new move to disband all student organizations until review probably would not have come about. Then again, it might have come about anyway as evil as that woman was. The part of him that preferred to follow the rules as much as possible, barring the occasional sparring session involving wickedly sharp blades and trying to pin his girlfriend to the floor, wanted to balk at going behind her back. The bolder part of him, the one that had grown stronger since his return from death and now laughed in the face of danger, was all for it.

Perhaps Gryffindor bravery was contagious?

Hermione had suggested they use the Room of Requirement. It was the logical move, of course. It didn't even show up on Harry's map, which his girlfriend had strictly forbidden him from confiscating or telling a teacher about (as if he would), and thus was likely undetectable by the teachers. Well, except for Dumbledore probably.

A stack of books was set down at his table as Hermione flopped into the chair across from him. "What's got you frowning so?"

He gave her a lop-sided smile as she reached across the table to straighten his hair. He did have a bad habit of mussing it up when he was frustrated. "I'm trying to work on my NEWT Level Potions Project. Your biological father has apparently decided to drive me to suicide from frustration rather than killing me outright."

"That sounds rather Slytherin of him." She gave him a cheeky grin and studied the titles of the books he'd pulled from the shelves. "These are all about moon cycles and werewolves."

"Yeah, he's assigned me an in-depth study on the Wolfsbane Potion. I'm to take it apart and try to think of ways to possibly refine it and make it better."

She frowned. "That's not NEWT level! That's Potions Master work! It shouldn't be attempted until after a full apprenticeship and at least ten years of dedicate work."

He held his hands wide. "Thus my theory that he's trying to drive me to suicide." He propped his chin onto the palm of his hand and gave her a slight smile. "So how's my best girl doing?"

"Your _only_ girl, I hope."

"My one and only from now until eternity."

She blushed and straightened her books out of habit. "Enjoying my classes, of course, though the ones with the Slytherin students are still a trial. And preparing for my OWLs." She rolled her eyes. "Ron and Harry seem to think it's scandalous that I'm starting before the Christmas holidays."

"Well, it is Ron and Harry." He tilted his head to one side, noting a little creasing in the center of her forehead which usually meant she was worried about something by trying to hide it. "What's wrong?"

She looked around before leaning forward so she could speak without being overheard. "It's Harry. I'm afraid he might be under too much pressure."

"Well, of course he is. He always has been and likely will be until we get rid of his personal demon."

She shook her head. "It's worse than that. Most of the time he's all right, but then he'll get extremely grumpy and snappish. And I _know_ his scar's hurting him again, but he won't go talk to Sirius about it. And Professor Dumbledore… well… he's not helping matters much."

Cedric frowned. "How so?"

"Well… he seems to be avoiding Harry. Haven't you noticed? He never talks to him directly and he avoids even looking at him. It's like he's pushing him away."

To his guilt, Cedric hadn't noticed. Not the part about the Headmaster, but hadn't noticed Harry's mood swings. What kind of a Head Boy was he if he wasn't going to look out for the other students? "Any clue as to why?"

She shook her head. "Not one, but I'm certain it has something to do with the Dark Lord being back and Harry's scar hurting him. But, well, it's really upsetting Harry."

And it would, of course. Potter's own family treated him like dirt. The boy was clearly starved for the slightest bit of affection he could get. It was the most likely reason why he clung so fiercely to the Weasleys and their imposing matriarch. It was also why his connection with his godfather was so strong. Albus Dumbledore was someone with whom he had formed another tight connection, and if that was now being chipped away it would unbalance him.

Cedric reached across the table and took one of her hands into his. "Hey, it'll be all right. Likely the Headmaster just has so much on his mind at the moment that he can't allow himself to be distracted. The Ministry's not helping any with getting ready for what's coming after all."

She gave another side, sinking into her chair. "You're right about that. And with Umbridge breathing down all the teachers' necks it's only going to get harder." Cedric watched as she summoned a brave smile for him. "So, Severus' plot to drive you batty, want some help?"

"You want to help me kill him first?"

She giggled. "Not today. I'm on a 'kind of like him' day. But I might be able to help with research." She paused, looking a bit nervous. "Do… do you want me to try and talk to Mr. Hallifax for you?"

Cedric blinked. "Mr. Hallifax?"

Hermione nodded. "I did some reading on the potion when Professor Lupin was teaching here. I found it when I was researching that essay Severus set us the day he substituted. The potion was developed by Ignatius Hallifax. It was surprising because he wasn't a potions master, but his youngest son was bitten by a werewolf and he was desperate to find a cure. In the end the best he could come up with was a way to keep his son calm and non-violent during the change."

He blinked again, gaping at her. "I didn't find anything that said that. Where did you find that?"

"It's not in a potions book. I found it in A Guide to Who's Who in Magical History. No one hardly ever visits the history section outside of homework for Professor Binns. The potions books only listed the name of the creator of the potion and I had to dig further to find out who Hallifax was."

The level of dedication she put into her studies was astounding. "Thanks for the offer, Hermione, but I have to be able to show where I got my information from. I can't very well put down that you chatted up a wizard who's likely been dead for a few hundred years. What would the professor think?"

She smiled. "He'd likely down a bottle of whiskey and then yell at me for a week. But I was thinking more along the lines of asking him how he went about his research. What steps he took when trying to develop the potion. That way you could have an idea of how it progressed and it might give you a clue as to how to proceed."

Now there was an idea. Still, he hesitated a moment before nodding. It couldn't hurt to have a little help, could it?

* * *

Dennis' eyes had rolled white as he walked through the empty halls of the structure. Michael walked behind him, weapon drawn and heart hammering in his chest. They were fairly certain that no one was here, but it never hurt to be cautious. As they rounded another corner he swallowed. He could well understand why Eric Schultz had come to him to erase his memories.

The bodies were in varying states of decomposition. Some looked as though they had been gone from this plane for decades if not longer, little more than dried sinew holding bones and a few lingering scraps of petrified flesh together. Others had probably only been here for the past three years.

All were blissfully still.

He touched the link on his com unit. "Hector, what's your status?"

There was a crackle followed by an answer. "We're on the third floor, moving towards what should be the control room." There was a pause. "No activity from our friends. I thought Schultz said they started moving whenever anyone tried to get in."

Michael looked down at the body of what might have been a man at one time. It was hard to tell now. "They started moving whenever Trout's people tried to get back in. I doubt he's on their list of favorite people." No, he probably wasn't. And if Eric was right about the surveillance cameras and the footage of what had happened here, then the Great Majority would not have wanted the bastard to have a chance to destroy the evidence. "Proceed as planned. See if you can locate the computer system."

"Copy that." The link cut out and Michael watched as a blind Dennis nearly stumbled over a body lying width-wise across the hall. "You okay?"

It took a moment before the Cog answered. When he did it was with a raspy, not-quite-there voice. "They got through the doors, pouring in by the dozens." His hands moved over the walls as his vision looked into the past, painting the man a picture of what had transpired. "Some had likely traveled miles to get here, some dragging themselves along. Their legs had decayed beyond use long ago."

Michael understood what Dennis meant as his eyes drifted over a legless corpse with the tattered remains of what had once been a nice suit still clinging to it. And still the Cog went on. "Trout ordered them to evacuate, but the dead pulled them down as they ran. Only a few escaped."

Turner's eyes snapped up. "What about Trout? Did Trout fall or escape."

Dennis' head turned, his eyes seeing nothing currently there as he craned his neck around, staring up at the ceiling. "Escaped. Helicopter on the roof. Just barely made it." The man shuddered. "He was screeching that it wasn't possible. They shouldn't still be advancing."

Michael frowned. "Can you tell why?"

"She was already dead. He thought they would stop when she was dead."

Michael would have thought that, too, but apparently not. A chill ran through him. Could the dead move on their own without a Keogh to urge them to it? Had the dead continued to advance out of loyalty?

His gut told him that it had been out of revenge.

He swallowed. "Dennis, where was he keeping her?"

The other man looked around again, his shoulders starting to shake from the effort of holding the vision. Finally he lifted a hand and pointed to a metal door at the far end of the hallway. "There. She's in there." He lost the vision at last and sagged against a wall, his eyes closed. "That's all I've got. I can't keep it up any longer."

Michael patted the man's shoulder. "That's all I need. Thanks, Dennis." He walked past the Cog, stepping over the dead bodies as he made his way to the door. Once standing before it he tried the knob and found it locked. Stepping back he took aim and shot out the locking mechanism. The door swung open on its hinges, banging against the wall behind it. His gun fell limply at his side.

She had been the greatest of them all. Unique and seemingly unstoppable. A force of nature that never seemed to be satisfied with the status quo, but always wanting to push the boundaries. He remembered how she moved in life; her body taught and trained to move like a weapon in her attempt to make up for her gift not being exactly physical. That and her general distaste for asking the dead to disturb their own slumber to do her fighting unless it was absolutely necessary. And the things she had known!

Geoffrey Trout had said it best once, before his disgrace and when he had tried to convince the higher ups that she should be hunted down; if knowledge was power, then the Keoghs could be likened unto gods.

Michael stepped in slowly, ducking under one of the chains extending from the walls while taking great care not to disturb the body. He came around and turned so he could look at her. In spite of the lack of protection here, she appeared unmolested by insects or maggots. Her body had mummified on its own in the dry heat of Trout's abandoned Arizona stronghold. Dark hair that had once been lush and shone like silk was now brittle and dull, still up in a pony tail that would likely come apart if the aged band was disturbed. Her black t-shirt was torn and had a faded AC/DC logo on the front and her jeans were stained from blood and from where her body had let go upon death. She even still had her biker boots on. He didn't dare lift her head up from where it hung down. He doubted that it would budge now anyway, permanently stuck in that almost prayer-like position.

He stepped back and looked at the arms still stretched out, manacles holding the desiccated wrists and connecting to thick chains that were fastened into the walls. That was how he had kept her still. She could not jump into the Continuum if she was physically anchored to the tangible world. The massive outer doors had kept out the dead for weeks, according to what Eric had described, and the chains kept her from being able to flee. She had been at Geoffrey's mercy.

Michael felt the wet heat of tears starting to slither down his cheeks. She had been here, suspended and forgotten, for over three years. Ever since Trout had killed her. He didn't doubt that she went into death unafraid, knowing she would be welcomed amongst those with whom she had been friends since birth, but it did not make the way she had died any easier to swallow.

He swallowed and wetted his lips. "Hello, Kathryn."

The com link crackled to life. Hector's voice came over the earpiece. "Michael, we found the control room. Looks like everything's still here."

He swallowed again and touched the link. "Pack everything up. We'll take it with us. And send a retrieval team down to the basement level. I've found St. James."

There was silence for a long moment before Hector answers. "Understood. And the rest of them?"

"We'll tell the Yanks where to look, but we're not leaving her here. She's one of us. We're taking her home."


	34. Chapter 34

Hermione twisted the lens of the torch in her hand, turning on the beam of light so she could see her way around the structure. A light spell would work better, of course, but as she wasn't supposed to be away from the school grounds she didn't want to risk being picked up performing underage magic. The rubber-skinned flashlight would have to do.

"All right." She ran the light over the crumbling wood of the abandoned cottage. Ignored and empty for the better part of a century, the elements had done quite a number on it. Scavengers had already stolen most of the useable glass and fixtures, things that were hard to come by in less prosperous times. She noted a support beam had fallen down after someone had taken the iron bracings that had once attached it to the wall frames, blocking the way to the narrow staircase leading up and pretty much confirming that the floor above would probably be a death trap. "Fortunately I'm not going upstairs."

She picked her way gingerly across the kitchen floor, taking care to test in front of her before putting her full weight down. She didn't care to crash through the floor and into the basement. She'd rather get there taking the stairs, thank you. Eventually she reached the door leading down, finding that the hardware had already been stripped. It fell free under the slightest tug, forcing her to take a step backwards quickly so that it wouldn't fall on her. The impact of door to floor sent up a cloud of dust, thrusting a brief cough and sneeze fit upon her.

Once she had gained control of herself again she pressed on, taking the rickety steps one at a time with the light shining before her. Something small and furry with a long bald tail dashed across her field of vision and she let out a rather girlish shriek that she was very happy Kathryn wasn't around to hear. "How about that Gryffindor Bravery?" She heard Salazar chuckle inside her mind.

_"If the rat attacks you can always turn yourself into a snake and eat it."_

_"No thanks, and 'ewww'."_

_"It was only a suggestion." _She rolled her eyes and moved downwards until she was standing on the earthen floor of what had been Mr. Hallifax's work area.

A blacksmith by trade, it had been most unusual for the wizard to delve into potion making, but there was no end to what a parent's love could do. Her torchlight moved over the thick bars of a cage that took up all of one wall. This was where Hallifax had been forced to keep his son during the full moon. She remembered Remus telling them that when he had changed he had been secured in the Shrieking Shack. Having no one else to bite, he would claw and bite himself. Had Hallifax forced himself to listen to his son's howls of pain as he did the same?

She suppressed a shudder and moved on. What she was looking for was hidden in the east wall, the opposite side of the cellar from the cage. Hallifax had hidden it out of concern. There had always been a great deal of animosity towards werewolves, and his research into finding a way to allow them to be out and about in wolf form had not been well accepted. There had been those who had thought he should put his son down rather than work to find an answer to his curse. Because of this, the wizard had hidden his journals to keep them from being stolen or destroyed.

Hermione ran the torchlight over the east wall. She was looking for a sconce that was subtlety different form the others. Unfortunately, they all looked the same. Stepping closer she peered at each one in turn, examining the wrought iron until she came across one that was missing the inverted _fleur de lis_ present at the base of the others. She took a breath and gripped the sconce with one hand. A quarter turn to the right, one half turn to the left and finally a quarter turn back to the right so that the sconce was righted once more. Just as Hallifax had instructed. She was rewarded by a click followed by the sound of stones grating against each other. To the left of the sconce the stones seemed to shudder before vanishing, leaving a sizeable compartment no more than two feet square. Inside, covered in thick dust and yellowed from age, were Hallifax's journals.

"Brilliant." She reached in and took them up gently before slipping them into the satchel slung across her torso to rest against her hip. "Glad that's over. This place gives me the creeps."

_"Understandable. I don't trust it not to fall in on you. Now that you are relatively secure I would recommend teleporting from here rather than risk making your way back outside."_

"Sal, you read my mind."

The dead wizard gave a growl. _"How many times do I have to ask you not to call me 'Sal'?"_

* * *

Hermione was quite pleased with Harry at the moment. He was really taking to the task set before him, even if he didn't realize it just yet.

_"I still believe that it should be you running this."_

_"It can't be me. I've told you! Harry has to believe in himself and everyone here has to believe in Harry. He's The-Boy-Who-Lived. He's more than a teenager or a wizard, he's a bloody symbol."_

_"And a 'bloody' symbol is likely what he'll become if you insist on putting a boy that young up against a fully grown dark wizard."_

_"I don't like it any more than you do, but this is the way things have to be." _Harry worked to correct Neville on his technique as Cedric worked with the Patil twins. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Padma giggle and flirt with her boyfriend. Lucky for the witch, the wizard didn't show the slightest interest.

She was finding that it was a bit tricky to hold herself back in the group. True she was known to be a bit more advanced than the other students, but not to the levels that she had reached in her private training. Working at their pace, however, felt like moving at a snail's pace. She knew that Cedric was having the same trouble but he made up for it with a natural aptitude for teaching. If his future in diplomacy fell through, she was certain that Hogwarts would welcome him back gladly.

The session went on for nearly two hours, which was all they dared considering that many of them still had class work to do. After deciding when next to meet they departed a few at a time so as not to raise suspicion. Hermione and Cedric were the last to part, walking hand in hand down the corridor. "Have you had a chance to look through the journals?"

He nodded. "Yes, and thank you for getting them for me. His grammar and spelling leave much to be desired, I don't think he had a strong formative education, but he was thorough in keeping track of what he was doing. It's… humbling, really. I can't help but imagine him, this barely literate, impoverished wizard embarking on such an endeavor and coming up with the results he did. I can think of very few educated wizards who would have managed it."

"He was a father desperate to save his son. His goal was to find a cure, and he worked on it even after his son died, but Hallifax died himself before he could complete his work while here."

Ced frowned. "While here?"

Hermione shrugged and lowered her voice. "While he was alive. He's kept up with it since passing and has gotten quite a bit of progress done, though he still hasn't found what he thinks would be a true cure." She tucked an errant curl behind her ear. "But the journals should put you on the right path, and I can help by looking over your work if you get stuck. I'm not going to give you the answers, even if you wanted me to. You need to work it out on your own or you'd always wonder if you cheated and feel guilty over it." He didn't bother to argue the point. Hermione grinned at his quiet acceptance.

He pulled her to a stop as they reached the point where he would break off to go to the Hufflepuff dorms and she would head back to Gryffindor. "Quidditch match tomorrow. We're playing against Ravenclaw. Come and watch me play?"

She smiled. "Of course. I have to cheer you on."

He grinned. "I'll send up my scarf so you can wear it during the game. Should be easy to spot the yellow amidst all that red."

"You're supposed to spot the Snitch, Mr. Diggory."

"True, but you're so much prettier." She rolled her eyes as he leaned down to kiss her. She returned it, pressing forward and up on her toes a bit for better reach. The all-too-familiar _hem hem_ of Delores Umbridge caused them to spring apart.

The High Inquisitor was watching them with narrowed eyes and one of her sugar-sweet smiles. "Cavorting in the halls, Miss Snape? I hardly think your father would approve of such behavior. And Mr. Diggory, a Head Boy really should know better."

Hermione gritted her teeth. "I hardly call holding hands and a peck on the lips 'cavorting', Ma'am. And it's _Granger_."

_"Temper, girl. I know she's an odious toad but she holds a good deal of power right now."_

Umbridge's brow shot up, along with her chin. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, Miss Snape, and another Twenty from Hufflepuff, Mr. Diggory. And I will be discussing this matter with your Heads of House as well as with Professor Snape. Now, get back to your dorms." She remained rooted to the spot, unwavering under Hermione's gaze.

Cedric gave Hermione's fingers a gentle squeeze before parting from her and heading back to his own dorms. Hermione lifted a chin a bit and turned to move away. Leave it to Umbridge not to know when to keep her mouth shut. "Still, Miss _Snape_, Mr. Diggory is from an old and well respected pureblood line. You and your father are both classified as half bloods I believe? Well, such a match would be quite fortunate on your part."

_"No, you cannot kill her."_

_"Of course I can't kill her! I would never willingly subject the Great Majority to that creature one second earlier than her fated time."_

She felt the ancient wizard chuckle inside her head as she made her way to the tower. _"Thank you for that. Listening to her through you is bad enough."_

* * *

Severus kept his posture deceptively relaxed. He was seated on one of Mulciber's fine leather sofas wishing he had a stiff drink right about now. The Dark Lord was giving McNair and Dolohov their orders, sending the repulsive creatures away with a wave of his hand. "Snape," he barked out in that cold, high voice, "what news from Hogwarts?"

He shielded his mind carefully, though it had been some time since Voldemort had bothered trying to read him. "Dumbledore continues to try and recruit new members into the Order of the Phoenix, but the Ministry's efforts are making it difficult for him. He has the Weasleys, of course, and the remaining members from the Order in the seventies, but few others have bothered to join out of fear of losing their jobs or having Ministry officials descend upon them."

"Good. Very good. Fudge is a fool, but his paranoia is working in our favor." Pale, spider like fingers drummed on the polished surface of the heavy desk behind which the Dark Lord was sitting. "Severus, stay here. Everyone else leave us." This was rarely a good thing. Snape schooled himself not to show fear as the other Death Eaters bowed in reverence before departing. The door of Mulciber's library swung shut with a heavy thud behind the last one. "Severus, has Dumbledore mentioned anything about recruiting a witch named 'Keogh'?"

Severus frowned. "No, My Lord, that name is unfamiliar to me."

"Are you certain?" There was a tinge of concern in the wizard's voice. "Keogh. Kathryn Keogh, both names beginning with a 'k'. She would nearing seventy now."

He shook his head. "No, My Lord. Nothing has been said to me about it." He paused. "Is she someone with whom you are familiar?"

The Dark Lord gazed into the fire with red eyes. "A student from my days at Hogwarts. She arrived during our seventh year after her parents called her back from the Americas. Many muggles, and even several magical families, sent their children abroad during the muggle war. They wanted them away from England and the German bombings. The first few were being brought home that year."

He had known this, of course. Magical History was often interlaced with Muggle History. And the madman, Hitler, had been obsessed with magic and the occult. There had been several dark wizards who had joined his SS for the sheer pleasure of being given the freedom to torture and experiment on muggles. It had been dark times for their world. Gridlewald in the north and the Nazis to the south, with the British magical community sandwiched in between. "You believe that she may side with the Order, My Lord?"

"I think she already has, Severus." Voldemort got up from his chair, his robes billowing behind him. "She was there, that night in the graveyard. The night I got my body back. She was attacking us from the shadows. Distracting us so that Potter could get away."

Snape frowned again. Lucius had mentioned something about this. "I was under the impression that had been more than one attacker, My Lord. From what Malfoy described, the spells came too quickly."

Voldemort sliced the air with a pale hand. "It was she! I could not see her face, but the light from her spells allowed me to see her silhouette. There was only one person there, that night. And she was more than capable of attacking with the force of three of four wizards."

"Surely no one is that skilled of a duelist!"

The Dark Lord paused, his expression one of remembering. "She was. She is! She always had a traditional wand for class work. A single wand, like every other student, and she was quite proficient in its use. But for dueling… for dueling she had two wands. Two special wands, each double-ended so that they worked as though she was holding four wands in all."

Disbelief was the only label that could be giving to what Snape was feeling at the moment. "Double wands? But… that's not possible. Even if a wand maker was to create such a thing, who could possibly have the presence of mind or speed of thought to use them?"

"Keogh could!" The answer cut through the air like a frozen sword. "Keogh could and did. She was an exceptionally powerful witch. She claimed to be a mudblood, but I always had my doubts. No… I always wondered if it weren't more likely that she was ashamed of her parents in some way. So much so that she would rather claim to be devoid of magical blood rather than claim them."

Severus pondered the Dark Lord's concerns carefully. The wizard was truly worried about this witch, whomever she was. "I have not heard of her, but I will keep my ears open, My Lord. Eventually all members of the Order become known to one another. If I hear of her, I will report back immediately."

"Good. Good." Voldemort waved a hand dismissively. "You may go, Snape. And tread carefully. The witch always had an uncanny ability of knowing what was going on. Rather like that fool, Dumbledore, in that respect."

He gave a bow and left the library. There was no mistaking it; Voldemort was concerned that this unknown witch might throw her lot in with Dumbledore. That meant that if she was still about, they needed her on their side. And quickly. He disapparated to a point inside Hogsmede and made his way back to the school. He needed to report to the Headmaster immediately.

He found Albus pacing his study as usual, his thoughts heavy with worry. "Headmaster. I have returned."

Dumbledore swung his gaze around and studied him from head to toe. "And in one piece, I see. Good. I'm always concerned that he'll suddenly take to distrusting you." He motioned for Snape to sit down and went back to his heavy desk. "How goes it?"

Severus settled into the chair. "He is still unable to get his hands on the prophecy. I do not believe he has yet learned that only he and Potter can remove it from the shelf. Of course, he cannot get into the Department of Mysteries, so once he does learn he will likely attempt to lure the boy there."

"Yes, I expect that he will. We will need to keep a close watch on Harry and try to keep him from being his own worst enemy in this." The aged wizard leaned back in his chair. "Anything else?"

"Yes, Headmaster. The Dark Lord was inquiring about a witch he fears may have joined the Order."

Albus arched a brow behind his spectacles. "Oh?"

Snape gave a curt nod. "He said her name was Kathryn Keogh, a girl who transferred here during his seventh year after her family called her back from the Americas." He watched as the Headmaster's expression grew guarded. "You know of her?"

"Oh, yes, I remember Miss Keogh quite well, Severus. An exceptionally talented witch. She and Mr. Riddle came against one another more than once during that year. I believe he tried to seduce her into joining his group of followers, but she is not one to follow anybody."

"Then she is still alive?"

"Oh, yes, quite alive. However, I do not believe that she is the person now that Voldemort expects her to be after fifty years." He smoothed his robes over his lap. "Which is fortunate for Miss Keogh. It will keep him looking in the wrong place."

"Should we not try and bring her into the Order? Clearly the Dark Lord is concerned about it. I hesitate to go this far, but it almost seemed as though he was afraid of her."

"And well he should be, Severus. He would be a fool not to fear her. After all, she came from a singularly unique bloodline."

"She claimed to be a muggleborn."

"Half-blood, actually, though she had little exposure to the magical world before schooling. Still, it served her purpose to avoid entanglements with the magical half of her family. She was too… unusual, and needed to be on her own in order to get a better grasp of herself." The headmaster chuckled as though remembering a particularly pleasant memory. "As for bringing her into the Order, not just yet I think. No, Miss Keogh does far better if left to her own devices."

"And if the Dark Lord should succeed in wooing her to his cause?"

"Oh, no danger of that, Severus. She doesn't approve of the company he keeps and I rather doubt he would be willing to allow her to slaughter some of his more vicious allies."


	35. Chapter 35

_January 21st, 1979_

The night had given way to the cold sun of morning. Severus ignoredthe bitter chill of the wind as it pulled at his robes as he took in the scene before him. Lucius stepped forward, removing his mask as he looked about in the blood stained snow. "What in the name of Merlin…"

Severus looked down at what appeared to be the remains of a hand, two of the fingers missing. The knuckles were hairy and wide, and there was a heavy signet ring on one of the remaining fingers. "It's Montague." He kicked the hand over with the toe of his boot. "Or what's left at him."

Lucius turned, his robes rustling in the winter air. "Montague?"

"Who else, Lucius? What other Death Eater would be in a cemetery in the middle of the night?" He looked over and saw that Lucius was clearly shaken. "What?" Malfoy dropped his gaze a bit. "What is it, Lucius?"

"Montague… had an assignment from the Dark Lord last night."

"Obviously. And one involving his particular talents if he was here. More inferi, I assume."

"It was up to him how to accomplish it." Malfoy looked over to where the remains of a leg could be seen. "He was to… relieve you of your little pet."

Severus froze, his mouth going dry. "Was he?"

"You have become distracted by her, Severus. Your vision clouded. She's only a muggle. They're all right for a quick tumble but you either kill them or kick them out the next morning. You've kept that creature in your bed for_six month_." Lucius sighed. "The Dark Lord felt it was time you remembered our cause."

The winter chill was finally reaching his blood. Kathryn targeted for assassination. Kathryn marked for death. Just the previous morning he had found a momentary release with her ankles locked behind his head as he had thrust into her welcoming heat over and over and now he was standing amidst the frozen blood and chunks of flesh that had once been her would-be killer. "I have always remembered our cause. And at any rate, it would seem that Montague's success is doubtful, at best."

Malfoy glanced around once more. "Not assuredly, although it does seem that Montague's little pets got away from him. Sloppy on his part to say the least." Severus made a grunt of agreement. "Still, I think we should pay a visit to your peccadillo's flat, just to be certain." Snape's answer was the flick his wand over the scene, banishing the pieces of Montague and the blood soaked snow away lest someone come across the gruesome sight.

They disapparated to the alley outside of Kathryn's building. She'd given him a key the second month into their relationship and it was this he used to get inside the spacious dwelling. Lucius had never been here, but he could clearly see that it was upscale. Both could see that it was empty.

The polished floors bore marks in the wax where furniture had been moved. The walls were bare save for a few hooks remaining that had once held works of art and Asian themed wall hangings. Their footsteps echoed in large spaces, devoid of objects. Even the large formal dining room Kathryn had converted into a sort of personal dojo was bare.

He had just been here the day before. How could she have emptied the place so quickly?

"This place is… impressive at least. What did you say she did for a living?"

"I didn't." He moved through the rooms, opening a door to reveal the master bedroom as empty as the rest of the dwelling.

"It takes a good deal of expendable capital to afford a place like this. Especially in this neighborhood, Severus."

"It was one of the topics we didn't discuss."

"What were the others?"

He moved out of the bedroom and through the smaller dining area into the kitchen. This was also bare save for one item. A single, long-stemmed rose had been placed on the gleaming black marble countertop. The petals were dark red, almost the color of blood, and free of any blemish or bruise. "Where we got our tattoos and where she learned to fight the way she did." He reached down and picked up the rose, holding it up to the pale winter light flowing through the window. It was the only item they found.

* * *

Severus placed his hands on the polished wood of the casket. It felt a bit warm under his fingers.

The Grangers had come to the school the day of the Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw match. It had been something of a shock to Hermione to learn that her birth mother's body had been found. It had been a shock to him as well. Both had assumed the body to be buried somewhere in the Americas, which had been the last place Kathryn had been thought to be. How had she been declared dead and her estate distributed without a body to prove her death? It was yet another mystery about the woman.

The service was to be closed-casket. According to her former co-worker, Mr. Turner, three years had been unkind to the body. Severus did not doubt it. Still, he had wanted a bit of time to himself, so he had come to the funeral home an hour before everyone else so that he could be with his thoughts.

"You chose well." It seemed a good place to start. "The Grangers are… far better people than you and I. I shudder to think what a mess we would have made in raising her. I admit that I was… furious when I learned what you had done, what you had hidden from me, but I am grateful that you did." He ran his hands over the wood and watching the streaks left behind. "I never really knew you, did I? And yet, I have to wonder if you knew more about me than I had wanted you to. Did I even have any secrets from you?"

Severus heard the hum of the heater kick on. Central heat and air. Probably the cleverest thing muggles had ever come up with. "She looks more like you, which is a blessing. Of course, she did tell me once that she wished she'd had my eyes. I'm not sure which of us gave her her brains, we're both clever enough." A smile tugged at his lips. "She certainly has your stubbornness. It's landed her in a house of hotheads rather than in Ravenclaw where she would at least be with intellectual equals. I suppose I am just… surprised that we managed to create something that wonderful. I couldn't be prouder."

He removed his hands from the casket and reached inside his robes. "I kept this. Not sure why, but I suppose part of me was hurt that you didn't even say good-bye. Not that I blame you, of course. I wouldn't have hung about either, not after Montague trying to do me in. I wish I could ask you how you got out of that." He pulled out a long-stemmed rose, still blood red in color. "I put a preserving charm on it the day I found it. Kept it in a drawer in my workspace at home. It was the only keepsake you left behind and I suppose six months was too long to just… forget." He turned the bloom over in his hand. "It must have taken you a lengthy search through several roses to find one so perfect. But you did leave something else behind, and she is far more valuable. I think its' time to give this back." He took out his wand and ran it over the outer edge of the casket. The latches unlocked with audible clicks. Using one hand he lifted the lid that hid her face, reminding himself that she would not look like the Kathryn he remembered. It was a body. Only an empty shell.

The skin was sunken and dried against the bones, mummified rather than decayed. He had not expected her to be so well… preserved. Mr. Turner had mentioned that she'd been found in the deserts of Arizona, apparently without any protection allowing the elements to drain the moisture from her tissues. Severus paused, looking down at her before reaching out to place the rose on the satin pillow next to her cheek. His eyes roamed over the mummy's face once more… and he stilled. There was the shadow of a bruise still on the skin. It would not have faded and healed after the point of death. The lips were pulled back slightly from where the skin had retracted and it appeared as if several of the teeth were missing. One cheek was misshapen as though the bone underneath had been crushed and broken.

Severus frowned. It could have been post-mortem damage, of course, but the marks looked too much like signs of a beating for it not to be. He pushed the lid back so that he no longer had to hold it open, freeing up both hands. With long, gentle fingers he urged the collar of her blouse open at the neck and found more blackened marks indicative of bruising, along with markings that resembled burns as though done by an electrical charge.

His frown deepened as he took out his wand again and flicked it at the casket, causing the remaining portion of the lid to come open and reveal the rest of the body. A quiet spell opened the blouse, revealing a torso that showed more bruising and more burns. It looked as though several of the ribs on both sides had been broken and there were cuts in parts of the torso, too clean to be anything other than a blade of some sort. He cast another silent spell and the blouse vanished completely.

He gave a sharp breath. The dried skin at the to of the shoulders had been cut recently and there was cracking to indicate that the arms had to be forced to her side. More bruises and burns were along the length of the arms, all the way to the wrists that showed signs of having been manacled. She must have been suspended, the arms freezing in that position until recently when they had been forced to make the cuts so that they could be tucked into the casket.

"What are you doing?" Severus turned around to find Michael Turner standing at the doorway. The muggle came in with purposeful steps. "What the _hell_ do you think you are doing?" He reached for the lid of the casket to shut it but Severus reached out and held it firm with a hand of his own.

"What is the meaning of this?" The muggle froze, looking at him nervously. "I am not a nice man, Mr. Turner, and I recognize signs of torture when I see them."

Turner looked about to say something when voices drifted down the hallway towards them. The Grangers, and Hermione. "She doesn't need to see this."

Severus agreed with him and allowed the man to shut the casket. "This conversation is not over, Mr. Turner. Not by any means."

The service was a quiet one, attended by the Grangers, Severus and several people who claimed to be co-workers of Kathryn, although some looked too young for that claim to be truthful. A brief sermon inside the funeral home followed by a procession to a graveyard that Mr. Turner said was the same one Kathryn's mother and step-father were buried in. Sure enough there were a pair of graves next to the spot where Kathryn was to be interred with matching headstones for a Catherine and Frederick St. James.

The sky was overcast but the clouds were not yet releasing any rain. Hermione stood between her parents, Severus next to Mr. Turner, not wanting to let the muggle out of his sight just yet. He still wanted his answers. A pair of the 'co-workers' had taken up places behind the family, wearing sunglasses though there was no sun to hide from. Their stances seemed too much like guards rather than mourners, and their presence made him even more curious about Kathryn's past and her unknown profession.

The pastor kept things relatively simple, having nothing to wax poetically about. Still, there was a feeling of sadness about everyone present. Severus glanced over to Hermione, taking in her schooled features, betrayed only by tears that fell down her cheeks. He had not realized his daughter was so tender hearted. Or perhaps she was crying over the fact that she would never have the chance to know the woman who had brought her into the world. Either way, he knew the second something had changed.

One of the 'co-workers' reached out and gripped Hermione by her shoulders, pushing her to the ground as his counter-part pulled Mrs. Granger the other direction. Severus' hand reached reflexively for his wand, pausing for the briefest moment as something struck the head stone his daughter had been standing in front of just a fraction of a second before. A portion of the rock shattered into a fine powder.

The strangers at the funeral sprung into action, pulling side arms from inside suit coats and going for cover. The Grangers and Hermione were moved out of harm's way but Severus refused the helping hand offered him. Someone had tried to murder his child. Someone had tortured her mother to death. He wanted to know whom and he wanted to know why.

His wand in his hand he made himself as insubstantial as smoke, swirling through the wind towards the spot from where the shot had most likely come. To his surprise one of the others was already there before him, kneeling down by the indentation of a body. He didn't remember the man's name, but watched as he picked up a spent shell casing and tossed it to another man he called 'Dennis' who caught it and closed his eyes as if concentrating on some forgotten piece of information. When his eyes opened again, they had rolled white. "One of us. Invisible."

Turner was there now, listening to Dennis and giving a sharp nod. "Probably still here. Can anyone sense him?"

A few of the 'co-workers' had spread out in a wide search pattern, guns in hand. Their heads fidgeted now and again as if seeking out some odd noise. Severus watched, confused as they moved through the gravestones. One of them paused and raised his gun, taking a breath as if to call out when he reeled back as though struck. For a brief second Snape caught a glimpse of a dark skinned man with dreadlocks whirling to deliver a kick to the other man's midsection, then the vision was gone just as quickly as it had come.

The others broke into pursuit, trying to regain position of their unseen foe. In the end, however, it proved a futile attempt.

* * *

Evangeline braced her hands on her desk, leaning over it as she contemplated the day's events. "And the shooter only took aim at Hermione?"

Michael's voice came over the speaker of her phone. "He only managed to get the one shot off. Max sensed the intention before he could squeeze the trigger and got her down. We were on him the second it happened."

"But no one was injured."

"Not seriously. Fritz is going to have a helluva headache for a few days. He smacked his head on a gravestone when the bastard kicked him. The man had excellent control except for that one time. I didn't get a long enough glimpse to identify him, though."

"We'll ask the others. One of them might have gotten some details." She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. "Is there a chance that Schultz was lying? That this was all a trap?"

Michael paused on the other end. "I've considered that, but I didn't detect a thing when I was inside his head. His desire to forget was genuine. However, that doesn't change the fact that they were prepared for this. I would hazard that it's more likely Trout knew Schultz's loyalty was questionable and dropped hints about me in hopes that he would come to us. He knew if we had the location of his stronghold we would seek it out. And he knows us well enough to know that we would want to give Kathy a proper burial."

Dr. Stroud collapsed into her chair, sinking into it. "Meaning that he might have staged this entire thing just to identify Kathryn's child. Damn. As if the girl didn't have enough things to worry about. Now she has to worry about death threats from two sides."

"She'll be sent back to the school after the Christmas holiday. Trout and his people can't reach her there. That should give us a good five months to tighten security around the Grangers' home."

Her eyes shot up. "And what about the Grangers?"

"I erased the event from their minds and from the pastor's, with Hermione's approval."

"And the wizard?"

Michael's voice came over the speaker in a soft, frustrated growl. "Vanished on us. I think he may have cottoned on to what I was going to do. And there's another problem with him. He saw Kathryn's body. He recognized the damage and wanted to know who was behind it."

"Bloody… what did you tell him?"

"Nothing. The Grangers showed up about the same time and I was able to put it off. But I expect he'll turn up again."

"We'll deal with him when he does, then." Evangeline detected a thrill of nervousness and anxiety from somewhere else in the building. "In the meantime, Michael, get some rest. You've been running non-stop since your return from the States. You're no good to me if you run yourself into an early grave."

"I agree. There's a feather bed with my name on it in the next room. I'll talk to when I get to the office tomorrow."

"Good-night, Michael." Evangeline disconnected the call and let her head fall back, staring at the ceiling. She knew Trout was a twisted fuck, but to manipulate a funeral just so he could take out an innocent girl was almost a new low. The lowest he had ever been was his plot to kill her the day she was born.

She must have sat there like that for a few good minutes, contemplating what to do next and noting that the feeling of anxiety she had detected earlier was now moving in her direction. The empath frowned and sat up in her chair, wondering who had their knickers in a knot even as the door swung open. A petite woman with wild brown hair and pale green eyes came in, her cheeks flushed. It was one of their Cogs, of the clairvoyant flavor. "Angela?"

"Dr. Stroud, Michael's in trouble."


	36. Chapter 36

Michael disconnected the call, setting the receiver back into its cradle before finally sitting down. He had been pacing during the conversation, but now he rested his elbows onto his knees and ran his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair. "Bloody bastard."

"An interesting conversation, Mr. Turner." He jerked his head up, looking about for the dry voice. There was a movement in the far corner of his study and he looked over just in time to see Hermione's biological father fade into sight, some type of magical concealment lifted. "I believe you owe me an explanation from earlier. One that has grown in size now that someone has tried to assassinate my daughter. Am I correct in assuming that act is in some way connected to whatever happened to Kathryn?"

He swallowed, looking at the wand not pointed in his direction. "That would be a fair assumption, Mr. Snape." He held up a placating hand. "There is no need to be threatening. I'm not a threat to you."

Severus arched a brow. "I was watching you with the Grangers. I'm not certain how you did it, but I recognized a memory modification easily enough. You rewrote their memories to say that the funeral was uneventful, did you not?"

"Necessary under the circumstances, don't you think?" His phone rang with a loud, electronic chirping. Michael reached for it but stopped when Snape flicked his wand and pulled his chair further away.

"Let it ring, Mr. Turner. We are not done talking." The wizard began to advance, his every footstep falling with a thud that was then echoed by the phone ringing. "I want to know who murdered Kathryn St. James and why. I want to know wants my daughter dead, so much so that they would come to her mother's funeral just to target her."

Michael swallowed again. On the desk his answering machine picked up the call with a long beep. He was staring at the wand tip when Evangeline's voice came over the speaker. "Mr. Snape, I know you're there. Please be so kind as to stop threatening my agent." Michael saw something akin to uncertainty flicker through Snape's eyes. "Michael, bring him in. Full disclosure. Show him everything."

The call disconnected, the answering machine hanging up. Severus leveled a black gaze in his direction, but Michael forced himself to remain calm. He flexed his shoulders and sat up a bit straighter in his seat. "Well, Severus, it looks as though you're going to get the answers you seek. Shall I drive?"

* * *

E-Branch had its offices in the heart of London. From the outside it appeared to be nothing more than a non-descript building which could house any number of businesses from law firms to think tanks. There were no visible signs to declare who had taken up residence inside and it could have been empty were it not for the plants in the window and the people coming and going at various times throughout the day.

Inside the floors were carpeted in a deep burgundy that complimented wood-paneled walls. Severus saw the cautious eyes of those who worked here looking at him. They did not feel welcoming. "I don't believe I'm very popular here."

Michael didn't deny it. "There is still some hold over from the old guard. Back when E-Branch kept its members in line with one part fear, one part intimidation and two parts manipulation."

"Sounds like a lovely organization. One would have to ask why you are still here."

"Because that's now how things are done any longer." Turner swiped his badge through a security reader on a door, which opened with a click. "This way." He lead them down another short hallway until he opened a door leading into a dimly lit room with what looked to be about a half dozen muggle televisions mounted in a half circle. There was a comfortable looking office chair seated before them.

"What is this?"

Michael took a breath. "I was with the team that found Kathryn's body. She was in a facility in Arizona, over in the US, which had been either purchased or constructed by one Geoffrey Trout. He used to run E-Branch until he fell out of favor with the higher ups."

"And what did he do to deserve that?"

Turner gave a crooked smile. "A few things, but the thing that kicked it all off was the row he had with Kathryn. She quit over it, and they weren't pleased with our most versatile and useful agent walking away. It made them take a closer look at what was going on here. They finally saw what a bastard the man truly was and chucked him out. At first I thought he was just bitter over that, blaming her for his own mistakes, but… it's worse than that. He's truly cracked."

Severus had a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue, but he did not want to delay things further. "And this American facility equates to this room how?"

The other man looked sad. "We set the monitors up exactly how they were in Trout's control room so that the video feed could be played back exactly how he watched it. The visual helps the Cogs get a better line on everything."

"Video of what?"

"You said you recognize the signs of torture when you see them. How strong of a stomach do you have for watching it?" Turner turned to meet his gaze. "We've edited out the slow parts. The bouts between 'interrogations'. Otherwise it would take you a few weeks to get through it all." He reached over to the chair and picked up a device with several buttons. "Have you ever used a VCR or DVD player?"

"I have not."

"Well, it's fairly straightforward. Play means play. Stop means stop. The double arrows pointing left rewind and the others fast forward." Michael gave him the device. "I'll leave the door unlocked and my office is the third door on the left."

Snape frowned. "You aren't staying?"

Turner paused at the door. "I've already seen it. I don't care to watch it again."

* * *

"Hermione, do you want to talk about it?"

She sighed, her head resting on Cedric's lap. They were waiting, quite impatiently, for the time when the students would go down to the train. She had returned to Hogwarts only to learn that Harry apparently had another one of his clairvoyant dreams, this time involving Mr. Weasley. The twins, Ginny and Ron were already gone. She, Cedric and Harry had to wait until they could leave with the rest of the students. She had excused herself from the Gryffindor Common Room with the faint excuse of being too anxious to sit still and wanting to catch up on the lessons she had missed while away for the service. In truth she had gone to the Room of Requirement to meet with Cedric and tell him everything. "There's nothing more to say. Mr. Turner altered my parents' memories so they don't remember the shooter, but Severus felt it best that I go to Headquarters with you and Harry rather than go skiing."

She closed her eyes as Cedric ran his fingers lightly through her hair, enjoying the soothing feel of the touch. "I'm going to agree with Professor Snape on this one. A muggle shooter won't be able to find you here or at headquarters." He paused. "Unless ESPers can see through such things."

She shook her head. "No, Mr. Turner assured us that they can't find Hogwarts. They know the castle is somewhere in Scotland, but that's all they know. As far as they could tell, Kathryn was the only one who could interact freely with the magical world and that was only because she could let a deceased witch or wizard move into her head and guide her through it. Without that, she would have been lost."

"That's something at least. In the magical world we'll only have to deal with the dark wizards running about. In the muggle world you'd have to watch out for both."

"Fun."

He stroked her hair again. "Hermione, I'm afraid for you."

"I'm afraid for me, too." She sighed. "They're not talking to me. Not about this." She opened her eyes and saw him frowning down at her in confusion. "They're dancing around the shooting and what may be behind it. I suspect it has something to do with that man Kathryn used to work for, Mr. Trout, but whenever I try to ask anything about him they all clam up or become evasive. The most I've gotten out of any of them is that they apparently made some kind of promise to her that they wouldn't tell me what happened."

"So who was this 'Trout' person?"

She swallowed. Did she really want to tell him this part? "He… he was her boss, but they got into a fight when she found out about a necromancer and wanted to hunt him down. They, E-Branch, knew about the war and the key players. Kind of hard for them not to. I mean, they're not ordinary muggles. The bait and switch tactics the Ministry uses to hide catastrophes and attacks from muggles don't exactly work on them. Anyway, he was in charge of the ESPers and had laid down strict orders not to get involved in the war. So when Kathy asked him for a team so she could hunt down the necromancer, he told her she couldn't have it. Then he apparently told her she wasn't to do it on her own, either." Hermione gave a shrug. "She never could take orders very well."

"So she stormed out and found her own way, which was how she got together with Professor Snape."

"Yeah. Only, she ended up pregnant and somehow Trout found out about it. He wasn't happy with the idea of a witch or wizard being born with Kathryn's abilities. Felt it would be too much power in the hands of one person." She opted to leave out how Kathryn had also worried over that same detail. "According to what I've pieced together, Trout was watching all the hospitals and birthing centers when she was getting close to due, presumably to… do me in."

Cedric looked shocked. "Do you in? When you were just a baby?!"

"He believed I was going to be a monster."

"He can't know that from when you were born. No one is born evil! We are shaped by our life's experiences and by those who have the most influence over us." She refrained from arguing that her current belief was that Tom Riddle was proof positive that you could be born evil. "It's unconscionable."

"Yes, well, so is using my birth mother's funeral to target me, as far as I'm concerned. I believe Severus would agree. I've never seen him that furious, no matter how close someone's come to killing us in class." She gave a little shudder. He had looked murderous. There simply wasn't any other term that could adequately describe his expression as the furor had died down.

* * *

Severus sat still in the chair for several long moments after the video had come to an end and the screens had gone to white snow. It chased some of the gloom away, but did nothing to clear his memory of what had been on displayed on those screens just a few moments before.

How many days in all had they held her? They had brought in Wild Talents, identifiable because none of them used a wand, to interrogate her. The two most prominent ones had been a man who controlled fire as though it were as natural to him as breathing and another who had a disturbingly strong grasp on electricity. When their fists had failed to get anything out of her they had resorted to their natural abilities.

And she refused to give them anything.

Towards the end her captor was willing to settle for just the gender of the mysterious child she had borne and hidden. And she had kept it behind her teeth, never once letting this 'Trout' know whether her child was a daughter or a son.

They had bruised her, broken her bones and blacked her skin with lightening and fire, and still she kept her secrets firmly behind her teeth.

Heaven show mercy on her enemies if Hermione proved to have inherited even one quarter of her mother's strength.

The white static continued to drone on, but his ears rang only with Kathryn's last words to her tormentor, her speech somewhat slurred through swollen lips and aching jaw, before he had finally killed her out of desperation. _"Do you think I fear death, Geoffrey? I _**_am_**_ death. If this body ceases to breathe, I'll go to the grave knowing I am welcomed. But what of you, Geoffrey? You won't live forever. You have to die someday. And I'll be there, waiting."_

Severus set the remote down and got up from the chair. He pulled his long trench coat, his muggle equivalent of a robe, to smooth out imaginary wrinkles before leaving the room and seeking out Turner's office. It proved to be a nicely appointed one with comfortable chairs and a heavy oak desk. Turner was there with a serving tray that held a crystal decanter and two large tumblers.

"Brandy?" Snape gave a sharp nod of his head. Yes, a brandy would be welcomed right now. He helped himself to a chair as Turner poured and handed him a glass, which he then downed in one gulp. Michael Turner said nothing, but merely poured him another. "Do you want a few days to process or do you want to dive right in?"

"What was she?" It was cold and blunt, even to his ears, but it was a reasonable question. He was clever enough to realize that the people who worked here were more Wild Talents, more muggles who were more than muggles. He had always suspected that Kathryn wasn't quite as powerless as she had liked to let others assume. Now he was certain.

"Certainly get to the heart of the matter, don't you." Turner sat down on the edge of his desk. "Get comfortable, Severus. This may take a while."


	37. Chapter 37

He had pronounced Turner's brandy as 'pitiful' after they had nearly emptied the decanter without him getting so much as a buzz. As the rest of E-Branch filed out at the end of the evening, Severus summoned a bottle of Ogden's for them to continue. After all, if the Michael Turner could rewrite every memory since the day you were born and work side-by-side with a woman capable of summoning a regiment of walking corpses should the need hit her, surely he could handle firewhiskey. The muggle handled himself well, but Severus still had to help him back home.

It was a drunk and somewhat unsteady Severus Snape who made his way back to Hogwarts later that evening. He wasn't all that surprised to find the headmaster waiting for him in his private quarters, lounging in one of the high backed chairs that flanked his hearth. "Rough night, Severus?"

"One could say that." It came out only slightly slurred. Bully for him. "Shouldn't you be off somewhere wrapping presents for the students staying behind? Isn't that what you normally do?"

"Oh, I've already finished with my presents." He popped something into his mouth, likely another muggle sweet, and worried it over his tongue as he peered at Severus with those twinkling blue eyes. "I received word from Remus earlier."

"Did you? What did the cur have to say?"

"He said that you had convinced Hermione to stay at with the rest of the order rather than spend the holiday with her parents as she had planned. Something about an incident at the funeral." He looked to him with undisguised concern. "Are you certain that the man was targeting Hermione?"

"I have no doubt of it whatsoever."

Albus worried the candy in his mouth a bit more, the hairs of his beard twitching from about his mouth. "This is unsettling, to say the least. Miss Granger is a clever and talented young woman, but I can think of nothing about her that would draw enmity in her direction."

Severus swallowed and approached the hearth, his hands clasped behind his back. He squeezed them together, keeping a reign on his temper. "It is nothing to do with her and everything to do with her parentage. It appears that Kathryn had a few enemies of her own. People who would like to see her bloodline wiped out in its entirety."

The other wizard listened to him, appearing to weigh his words carefully before speaking. "That would indeed be a shame. The Keogh family's abilities have thus far proven to only show up within the family. Though it means little to the world at large, their loss would be a tragedy."

Severus stilled, his expression one of unfeigned shock. "You knew?" The headmaster said nothing, but there was a twitch in his beard that confirmed it. Anger and betrayal bubbled inside his chest. "You knew all this time and said nothing!"

"It was not my place to tell."

"But it was my place to know! How much else did you keep from me? Did you know that she was my daughter from the start?" Albus lowered his eyes to the hearth, his silence damning. Severus inhaled a breath with a hiss. "You said nothing. My child, my own flesh and blood arrived at this school and you said nothing!"

"The Grangers were all she knew, Severus. They had been her only parents her entire life, and Kathryn had told them she didn't know who fathered her child. How would you have explained it to any of them?"

"I would have found a way!"

"And this all would have turned into a vicious battle within the courts. What would have come of things between the two of you then?" Severus glared in silence. "Kathryn had to be the one to tell them, even if it was after her death."

"After her execution." Snape's jaw twitched. "She was tortured to death. The bastards recorded it all. I watched… I watched the footage."

Albus' eyes darkened. "They let you watch such a thing?"

"I would have asked to do so had I learned what was on the tapes beforehand. I need to know what I'm up against." He glowered at the fire crackling in the hearth. "Apparently muggles have their madmen as well."

"Oh, that is a given. Muggle or wizard, we are still only men, and men can fall prey to the darkest desires of their hearts." He heard the headmaster shift in his chair. "What will you do now?"

"I am unsure of that as of yet. With the Dark Lord and his plans looming I can hardly take the time to track down the man trying to murder Hermione. However, it would seem that keeping her in our world as much as possible should lend her some small part of added protection. According to my newly found sources, their kind has difficulty locating warded locales, even though they are aware of our existence unlike ordinary muggles."

"I see. So it would seem that it would be in Miss Granger's best interest to remain with the Weasleys as much as possible."

"That _was_ the general idea behind my sending her there." He refused to apologize for his tone of voice. "As it stands, however, there is much I need to discuss with my daughter as soon as I am sober enough to do so. If you will excuse me, Headmaster."

Albus rose from his chair, his expression somewhat sorrowful. "I know you feel betrayed, Severus, but I truly did believe that I was acting in the best interests of you and Hermione. You had no knowledge that Kathryn had conceived, but can you honestly say that you believe she erred in her decision to find her a different set of parents? You once said you would have ruined her had you raised her. Has your opinion on that changed?"

Snape turned away from the headmaster, refusing to give a vocal answer. He didn't need to. Both men were well aware of what he believed.

* * *

Harold Winston had been a jovial man in life, but serious in his work. He had been brought into E-Branch in his mid-twenties when his ability to read minds had spiraled past his ability to control it. For nearly thirty years he had worked with the organization, dedicating himself to the service of queen and country in the way to which he was best suited. It ended when he had suffered a massive coronary while sitting at his desk. He was believed to have been gone for two hours by the time a co-worker had discovered him. Had Kathryn still be with E-Branch it wouldn't have taken nearly that long.

Of course, Harold Winston hadn't ever truly left E-Branch. Quite the contrary. He was still hovering around, in mind if not in body, and was happy to now serve as the 'eyes and ears' inside the beast itself. He had been the one to pass along the information when Trout had been drummed out of the building. He had kept the Great Majority, and thereby kept Kathryn, apprised of any suspicious goings on inside the organization. And now he felt it his duty to inform the new Keogh, Hermione, of her biological father's visit to E-Branch.

Her toothbrush clattered into the basin of the sink, having fallen from suddenly slack fingers. _"He_**_what_**_?"_

_"Turner has disclosed the facts behind Kathryn's employment with E-Branch and the events of her death to Mr. Snape."_

Hermione's eyes stared back at her from inside the mirror above the sink. This could _not_ be happening. _"How much did he tell him?"_

_"Everything. Dr. Stroud authorized full disclosure."_

She thought she might be sick. _"Full disclosure? Did I enter into this conversation?"_

_"I'm afraid so. Turner confirmed that you had inherited Kathryn's abilities. I don't think he took that realization very well."_

"I bet not." She braced her hands on the rim of the sink, bending over the basin as her mind whirled. _"Thank you, Harold. I appreciate the head's up." S_hit-fire-mother-fucking-damn! This was the last thing she needed. She wondered how long it would be before he arrived at Grimmauld Place to speak to her about it. She wondered if she had time to pack and run.

Then something crossed her mind. _"Harold, you said that Michael told Severus about the events of Kathryn's death. I don't even know what happened. Did you find out?"_

The was the usual increase in the white noise at the back of her mind, the agitation surrounding that question she had come to expect. After a moment, Mr. Winston dared a response. _"It isn't something we should tell you, Hermione. Kathryn's death… you should hear that from one of the Living. From someone able to offer you comfort should you need it."_

That was more than she usually got. She was about to press further when a knock sounded at the door, followed by Ginny's voice. "Hermione? Are you all right? You've been in there for ages!"

"Yeah, sorry. Coming out." She put away her toothbrush and pulled her hair back into a ponytail using a terrycloth band before gathering her toiletry kit and unlocking the door. Ginny peered up at her with unfeigned concern.

"Everything okay? If you're still shaken up I bet Mum'd make you a hot toddy or something to help calm your nerves."

Yes, most likely she would. Molly Weasley had been torn between hovering over her and hovering over Arthur. The woman was already upset over her husband's near death experience. She had nearly fallen apart when she learned that someone had taken a crack at Hermione as well. "I'm fine, Ginny. Just tired."

And she was. Hermione made her way to the room she and Ginny shared and crawled into bed. Her head was pounding and she was more than a bit nervous. Doubtless she could expect a visit from her esteemed bio-Dad, and she was pretty sure that it was going to be an uncomfortable one.

* * *

He flipped through the photos one at a time. Jamil was recovering from his contact with E-Branch and its agents, but they had never noticed the Cog taking pictures from across the street. The glossy prints had been cleaned up quite well, allowing him to see the faces clearly. "A daughter." He held a shot of the girl up and to the side for better view. "She looks a great deal like Kathryn."

Cecily nodded from her seat in front of his desk. "She's only recently turned sixteen and attends what is described as an 'exclusive boarding school' in Scotland. We believe this might be the school of magic where reports have indicated most of the 'magical' population sends their children. We have yet to pinpoint the location."

"Don't bother. We've tried to locate that damn school for decades. They've got tighter security than most of the royal estates." He flipped through a few more shots, pausing at another one. "This man, the pale one in the old fashioned trench coat. He looks like the wizard she was whoring around with."

She nodded and opened her book. "He was addressed as 'Mr. Snape', which would agree with the information acquired from the E-Branch files. We found little information on him when doing a direct search, but we were able to confirm his identity as her biological father once we tracked down her adoptive parents and were able to do some shallow mind reads. From what we have gathered, he only came into the picture a few months after Kathryn's death." Cecily paused and swallowed. "It appears she had put some triggers in place should anything happen to her, a means to ensure that the girl was made aware of her origins."

"Adoptive parents? We have a name for her, then?"

"Yes, Sir. Hermione Jean Granger, legally the child of Jacob and Hannah Granger. Norms, from what we can tell. The Scanners don't pick up any ESPer talent from them and they've shown no signs of being 'magical'. They make their living as dentists. I was puzzled by how they came to have her until I did a bit more digging." She flipped through her notebook, scanning her notes. "Hannah Granger was originally Hannah Grouse. She and Kathryn were in the same classes together at University until Grouse changed to dental studies, apparently not able to stomach some of the more gruesome aspects of forensics. According to the registrar's office, she and St. James were roommates until Hannah married Jacob Granger. It was a civil ceremony, one that Kathryn is listed as a witness of."

Geoffrey Trout blinked. "And old school friend?" He shook his head before leaning back in his chair and allowing himself a chuckle. "Brilliant. She hid behind her own reputation of being a cold-hearted bitch. It never occurred to me to look for friends and allies among the living. Other than Turner, I didn't know she had any. She never seemed to show any care for anyone still living." He shook his head again. "She's still full of surprises."

Cecily nodded. "Yes, Sir. It was rather clever of her." She cleared her throat delicately. "Sir, I'm sorry to report that we lost track of the girl shortly after the attempt at the cemetery. Our Scanners can't find her anywhere. We believe she has been pulled back into the 'magical' world."

"Oh, I'm sure that she has been, especially if her biological father is back in her life. He will have secreted her away, no doubt. Which also means going after the parents who raised her would be a futile move, as he will override her decision to go after them, as will Kathryn."

The woman sitting across from him blinked. "Kathryn? But, Sir, Kathryn St. James is dead."

"Dead, but not forgotten, Cecily. Remember, this is a Keogh we're talking about, and a Keogh never let anything as insignificant as death stop them from their goals. We can never forget that this girl, this Hermione Granger, has a reservoir of knowledge that is near limitless at her disposal, but she has not had the time at practice that Kathryn benefited from at her age. If I know St. James, she's keeping an iron grip on the girl. She would not let something as petty as the concern of a child for her parents override the instinct to survive."

"Yes, Sir. I forgot that about her."

Geoffrey gave the woman a smile. "Quite all right. You weren't with us three years ago. You've never seen what she can do. Believe me when I tell you that it is the stuff of nightmares. Never assume that the girl is alone and always keep in mind that she, too, can bring about sights you could not have imagined in your worst dreams."

Cecily pressed her lips together but said nothing, looking back down at her notebook. Geoffrey reached out and skimmed the topmost edges of her thoughts. "Don't let her pretty face fool you. This girl is a time bomb. It is only a matter of when and where she will complete her metamorphosis and truly become her mother's daughter. Kathryn was utterly without conscience, lacking even the tiniest shred of remorse. And believe me, she had much to be remorseful for. She will shape her daughter into the same personality, but this time we won't just be dealing with a Keogh or even an ESPer. We must be prepared to face her when the time comes." He gave the woman was carefully measured smile that most would consider to be warm. "That will be all Cecily."

The Cog rose from her chair and left him alone in the quiet of his office. The man known as Geoffrey Trout looked back to the photographs on his desk, pulling out the one affording the best view of the girl for closer inspection. Pale eyes moved over the image, memorizing the shape of her face. "So this is who you were hiding all those years. A merry chase, St. James, but I always win in the end."


	38. Chapter 38

Her sleep was fitful at best. She tried probing the GM for more information, but they skirted around the issue like Harry and Ron trying to avoid admitting they hadn't done their homework assignments, which did nothing to help calm her nerves. More than once throughout the night she had gotten up and paced the floor just outside the room she shared with Ginny, ignoring the whispers and murmurings of the Black Family portraits until a snide, drawling voice caught her attention. "Nightmares, Miss Granger? I would think you would be the last person to worry about ghosts and goblins in her sleep."

She stopped and looked over at a frame on the wall to behind her. Phineas Nigellus was leaning against the frame of a bleak and dreary landscape. Hermione frowned and turned to face him fully. "What are you on about, then?"

The late Headmaster arched a brow. "I might have been nosing about a painting in Professor Snape's quarters, wondering what had Albus Dumbledore looking so guilty. And I might have heard some rather interesting things about you."

She narrowed her eyes and stepped closer. "Who else knows?"

"Other than myself, no one who didn't know already, though with all the shouting I wouldn't doubt it if someone walking past might have caught a few snippets here and there."

Great. "How pissed off is he?"

The question seemed to amuse Phineas. "Greatly so, but very little of it is directed towards you."

That drew her up short. "Who's he mad at, then?"

"Oh, where to start." Phineas seemed to be contemplating that very thought carefully. "Well, he's furious at Dumbledore, considering the Headmaster has known all along you were his daughter and saw fit not to tell him. That and he apparently has always been aware of your peculiar talents. Then there's the blazing row he had with the Bloody Baron when the ghost tried to stop him from yelling at the Headmaster and your father realized that all the ghosts have been aware of the very same facts." Hermione gave a muffled groan and leaned forward to rest her head against the wall beside the painting. "But I suppose he's the most upset with your mother, who not only neglected to tell him he had a daughter but also neglected to tell him her true nature. Of course, I'm not entirely certain he would have had the bollocks to take her to bed had he known, but that's neither here nor there."

"Why couldn't he just get drunk off his ass like a normal man?"

Phineas gave a bark of laughter. "That was_while_ he was drunk, Miss Granger. He would have been violent had he been sober." She started banging her head against the wall, muttering 'fuck, fuck, fuck' softly. "Quite the vocabulary you have developed."

"It's genetic. I get it from Kathryn." She turned around and rested against the wall. "Maybe I could run away. Grab Cedric and Crookshanks and move into a lovely little villa somewhere in Southern Italy. Spend all my days sunbathing in micro-bikinis." She heard Phineas give a snort. "What?"

"You're too much of a Gryffindor to do that, although it is kind of you to consider improving the Italian landscape in such a fashion."

"Sometimes you come across as quite the lecher."

"Even portraits can appreciate the female form, Miss Granger." The sound of the clock chiming two in the morning drifted up from the study. "As for you, you should return to bed and try to wring out what little sleep you can. You'll need to be sharp when your father arrives."

Hermione sighed and pushed herself away from the wall before making her way back to the bedroom. Sleep still refused to come to her, however, and even she knew she looked like death warmed over the following morning. So much so that Mrs. Weasley gently suggested that she remain behind and try to rest while she and the others went to visit Arthur at the hospital, even going so far as to give Cedric orders to make certain she didn't exert herself when he had shown up a bit later with a box of presents his parents had sent over.

"How much do you think he knows?"

"Everything Mr. Turner and the others know."

"That could be uncomfortable." He was sitting on a sofa, turned a bit so that he could bend one knee and act as a sort of support while she leaned back against him, her head on his shoulder and her nose tucked under his chin. Hermione let herself relax into him, inhaling the scent of his soap and catching a whiff of the detergent used on his clothes. She hadn't realized how topsy-turvy she had been feeling until he had arrived. "I'm certain everything will be all right."

Hermione made a non-committal sound before slipping her arms about his torso and snuggling in more tightly, shifting only slightly for a more comfortable position when the hilt of one of her sai jabbed him in the bony part of his pelvis. The more she thought about it, the more that idea of running off to Southern Italy with Cedric gained in merit.

* * *

Severus waited until the hangover potion took full effect before he journeyed to Grimmauld Place. He found is mostly empty save for Black and Lupin sitting at the kitchen table as they perused reports and drank stout coffee. Sirius gave him a sneering look as he looked about. "Want something, Snivellus?"

Lupin gave his friend a warning look. "Sirius…"

"I'm looking for my daughter. I suppose she's gone off with the Weasleys."

Remus shook his head. "She wasn't looking all that well so Molly told her to stay behind. I believe she's in the study with Cedric."

"Give them some privacy, why don't you?" Black refreshed his cup. "Young love and all that. It's not like they'd be allowed sufficient time together at school, what with being in different houses."

Severus reminded himself to keep his temper in check. "When will the others return?"

Black frowned. "Later this afternoon. Why? Is something wrong?"

He sighed. "After a fashion. The Headmaster has asked me to speak with Mr. Potter regarding some additional classes that may be of benefit to him." He managed not to smirk at the expression on Black's face. "Do let me know when he's returned." Dismissing the animagus from his mind, he turned on his heel to leave the kitchen in search of his daughter.

"Hold on! Just what sort of lessons are you talking about?"

"That is a matter between the headmaster, Mr. Potter and myself, Black. It doesn't concern you." He ignored any further sputtering from the man, letting the door close behind him and making his way down the hall. He knew where the study could be found. Sure enough, Hermione was there along with Cedric Diggory, who couldn't possibly be comfortable in his current situation but seemed intent on acting the part of a settee. The boy's hand gripped the back of the small sofa for support, his body slightly bowed as Hermione used him for a cushion. From her deep breathing he could tell that she was sound asleep.

Diggory was too intent on keeping watch over the witch reclining against him to notice his arrival. Severus scowled briefly at this lack of attention, more tense over her safety after the recent attempt on her life than usual, but knew that this wasn't the time to lecture. Not Mr. Diggory at any rate. Instead he settled for clearing his throat loudly and was rewarded by a suddenly awake Hermione. She pushed back from Cedric, who also straightened up, and reached her hand automatically to the small of her back. She paused in the middle of the movement, but it was still enough to give Severus pause. How many times had he seen Kathryn make the same gesture when the moment called for them to be alert?

He summoned the demeanor he most often used while teaching. "Enjoying a bit of a nap, are we?" She swallowed, blushing slightly under his gaze. He knew that their actions were innocent, but he was not going to accept a romance between the pair without a fight. Let the boy work for it a bit longer. Besides, people changed a great deal between the ages of seventeen and twenty-five. They could still outgrow one another. "Mr. Diggory, I would like to speak to my daughter in private." Severus watched as Cedric gave Hermione a cautious look. She nodded, giving him a smile that failed to be convincing. Nevertheless, he did rise from the sofa, bending down to give her a brief kiss to the cheek before leaving them alone.

She sat on the sofa, hands knotted in her lap and seemingly unable to look up to meet his gaze. He clasped his hands behind his back and walked slowly towards the hearth, pretending to study the trinkets on the mantel that had been deemed 'safe' and therefore allowed to remain. "The two of you seem to be growing ever closer. Should I add your young man to my list of possible threats to your safety?"

"He would never hurt me."

"I would have thought you had lost that youthful naiveté by now. What with the seemingly endless font of age and wisdom always just a thought away." She didn't respond. He looked into the mirror over the mantel and saw that her head was still slightly bowed. "I will be blunt, Hermione; I am not certain how to address this new bit of knowledge regarding you I have gained."

That got a response. She lifted her head and turned in her seat to look over the back of the sofa in his direction. He turned from the mirror, hands still clasped behind his back. "That you did not tell me what you were going through is understandable. Decent witches and wizards would be likely to turn against you, unable to understand the difference between you and a necromancer. The ones who would accept you… well… I would never condone you interaction with their kind."

She frowned, seeming uncertain of how to take his words. He let her make the next move. "I thought you'd be furious."

"I am, but there is no point in directing my anger towards you. I choose to save my ire for those who deserve it."

Her head nodded slowly. "Like Kathryn."

"She's at the top of the list, but unlike you I am unable to yell at her properly. I'm restricted to those I can actually see."

She frowned. "Isn't it a bit hard to keep yelling at Professor Dumbledore? I mean… he practices passivity all the time. He never rises to the bait." Severus narrowed his eyes, contemplating her. "What?"

"I am wondering how I failed to notice the changes in you since you learned of your adoption. It's easy to see the physical resemblance between you and Kathryn, but it goes deeper than that. The Hermione Granger who came to Hogwarts five years ago wasn't nearly as relaxed in her speech and mannerisms. You've become less frantic. More confident in yourself."

Hermione looked as though she may be mildly insulted. "I was never frantic!" He barely repressed a snort. "When was I frantic?"

"You were the most neurotic child I ever had the displeasure to meet, and I serve as head of Slytherin House." She glared at him and he finally saw some bit of himself within her. It was there in the eyes and the way her lips turned down at the corners when she was scowling. "That being said, I find it surprising that you have adapted as well as you have to your additional talents."

Her shoulders rose and fell in a brief shrug. "I couldn't have done anything else. Not really. Once I figured out those equations and 'unlocked the door', there wasn't any shutting it back. It was creepy in the beginning, what with my dead mother chattering away inside my skull, but mainly it was annoying because she had a tendency to say some of the most inappropriate things at the positively worst times."

Had? "You are no longer in contact with Kathryn?" A look of something that resembled regret flashed through her eyes. "What is it?"

"She… sort of got kicked out. The others didn't like how she was speaking to me after what happened last year and Sal… he decided to give her the boot."

"'Sal?'"

Her cheeks colored a bit and she licked her lips nervously. "Salazar Slytherin. He appointed himself the spokesperson of the others and told Kathryn she'd overstayed her welcome. She stormed off and he… sort of took over as my mentor."

He couldn't have heard her right. "Hermione, are you telling me that Salazar Slytherin, one of the most respected and feared dark wizards in our history, is running about inside your mind?"

"Only when needed, and he isn't all that bad!" He drew in a breath, preparing to give her a lecture on the foolishness of letting manipulative bastards have access to her thoughts. "He isn't! History's got it all wrong! He never hated muggleborns, just how they were treated. He said that muggleborns were often put to death when they were just children. He used to watch for signs of accidental magic in muggle children and step in to intervene, faking their deaths and then placing them with magical families so they would be safe."

"Who told you this?"

"He did."

"And you believe him?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Hermione, the type of wizards and witches put into Slytherin house are not known for their ability to tell the truth."

"Yeah, well to hear him talk he's not all that thrilled with how the lot of you turned out. He's _extremely_ disappointed, and he's pissed as hell that Voldemort runs around claiming to be trying to finish his work."

"_Don't_ say that name!"

She rolled her eyes at him! "It's just a_name_. Not saying it only gives him more power."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You are definitely Kathryn's daughter. Your sense of self-preservation is as poorly developed as hers ever was."

"I have a very strong sense of self-preservation."

He doubted that. "If you had even a weak one you would have better sense than to allow Salazar Slytherin to act as your mentor. What is he mentoring you in anyway?"

"Not really a mentor, but more as a guide in finding who I need."

"You mean 'what' you need?"

She shook her head. "I mean 'who'. I can't communicate with things, after all. But if there's something I need to know he helps me find someone who has the answers. And he helps me analyze events and information to see where I might have fouled up. Like with the mess in the graveyard. I was dead lucky there, because my reluctance to aim to injure could have cost me my life. I nearly fucked up the entire thing."

"You swear like Kathryn, too." Perhaps distancing her from her predecessor had its good points. "Hermione, while my displeasure at having been kept ignorant as to the full scope of your abilities is in no way directed towards you, I have to insist that there be some changes made. To begin with, the ghosts tell me that you spend almost as much time in physical training as you do in your scholastic endeavors."

She gave him a puzzled look. "Well, of course. Kathy always said that a wand is only useful if you manage to keep it whole and in your grasp. If it gets broken or you lose it, you've got to have a fall back."

"Be that as it may, you are to sit your OWLs this year. I will not have a repeat of your third year and that nightmare with the Time Turner. Before you resume classes after the holiday we will sit down and work out a more tolerable schedule so that you do not work yourself to an early death."

Hermione looked incensed. "I am _not_ going to work myself to death."

He ignored her as he continued one. "Also, you will provide me with a weekly summary of any conversations you may have with any… departed individuals."

"Some of those conversations are _private_!"

"Not any longer." He felt no remorse in 'laying down the law'. The Headmaster had been wrong to allow her to plow head-on with her self-explorations. History was rampant with bright witches and wizards who had turned down the wrong path when their curiosity was not kept in check. "Finally, you will tell me of any specific disciplines or schools of thought you wish to master. We will first endeavor to find you a teacher among the living before resorting to taking your answers from those gone on."

She stood up, stamping her foot in a gesture that was better suited to the teenage girl she was. "That's just_silly_! Why shouldn't I ask the GM for help? They're just waiting there, doing the same thing they did when they were breathing and perfecting it! They've honed their skills far beyond what you or I can even imagine. Why not learn from them?"

"Because I have said it is to be so." It was the classic fatherly cop-out, and he wasn't ashamed to use it. "Surely Mr. Turner told you of Kathryn and her seemingly perpetual coldness. Now I can see that it was due in part to the fact that her closest friends were no longer among the living. I will not see you drawn into the same frigidity. I have been too cautious in my dealings with you since learning of our connection out of concern that I may overstep my bounds, and that failing is entirely mine. I see now that I must take action if you are to salvage anything resembling a normal existence."

"I'm not normal! I never have been! I never could be!"

"You will do as you are told." He kept his voice as calm as he could manage. In his mind he kept reminding himself that it was not Hermione with whom he was furious, but all those who wove a web of secrets and lies about her. Kathryn he could understand. She did what she did to protect the child she had born, but she could have told him. He would have left Voldemort sooner if she had told him, taken her to Dumbledore and begged the old man for asylum. He would have even offered to marry her, even though she would never have accepted, and would have been there for their daughter from the beginning.

And Hermione likely would have turned out far different. She would have been colder and less open to her own emotions. She would have likely been calculating and ambitious, and lacking the generous nature that encouraged her to help that idiot Weasley boy with his essay assignments or stand up to her best friends by reporting potential dangers to teachers before they got themselves killed.

In short, she wouldn't have been Hermione.

He was so intent on reminding himself of all this yet again that he missed her question. "What was that?"

She was looking at him with an expression that looked to be one part curiosity and about two parts fear. "I asked how Kathy died."

That was an odd question. "Sure you know that already."

"She would never say. I know she had enemies, like that Trout person, but no one will talk about him. They said that… it was something that should come from the living. That it wasn't something I needed to hear from the dead." She drew in a breath and hugged herself. "That they won't say scares me a bit."

His anger fizzled out. It hadn't occurred to him before, but if Kathryn had told her everything then it wouldn't have taken this long to locate her body. "How was your relationship with her before she was… dismissed?"

"Odd. I mean, what else could it be with her being dead and all? She was brutal at times, very strict and stern. She could give a verbal lashing that made you look like a pussycat, no offense. And she was downright embarrassing a good portion of the time, and a total perv more often than not." She worried a bit of carpet with the toe of her shoe. "And she was very… stand-offish. I got the impression that she didn't have much in the way of warm feelings. She said that the only motherly thing she ever did for me was to find me a decent set of parents."

"I see." So that was the impression Kathryn chose to give their child? She had no end of time to let Hermione know and opted to keep herself distant from her even as they shared the same body? What madness had settled into the Necroscope's brain that she would take such an action? "Hermione, never doubt for a moment that Kathryn cared for you. Practically every step and deed she made from the moment of your conception until the night she died was done to protect you from those who would do you harm."

His daughter blinked, her eyes open and trusting as she listened. "I… I'm not certain I understand."

Severus weighed his thoughts carefully. All her life people had lied to Hermione, be it a lie of omission or just a blatant falsehood. Granted, the bulk of those lies were intended to be for her own good, from concealing the fact she was adopted to refraining from telling her how her birth mother's death had come to pass. Truth could be brutally painful, but it could also repair a great deal of damage.

It was in that moment that Severus Snape decided that he would be the one person who would not lie to Hermione. She deserved at least one individual with a still beating heart who would tell her how things truly were.

"Kathryn's enemies caught up to her, Hermione. She was apprehended by this Geoffrey Trout and his underlings and taken to a secured location where they could… question her. They spend several days torturing her for information, keeping her in place by physically restraining her to the building structures so that she could not… teleport away. Walls of steel and concrete prevented the dead from being able to rescue her." He saw the dawning horror in her eyes. "In the end, Trout was desperate to the point that he would have settled for just a gender, to know whether you were a son or a daughter. Kathryn would not even divulge that much. To the very end she refused to give him even the smallest bit of information that could be used to track you."

She shook her head as if trying to banish this new information. Now that she had it, he doubted she wanted it any longer. He felt a moment of uncertainty, thinking perhaps the others had it right before reminding himself of his new vow. "Such is not the action of a woman who does not care for her child, Hermione. Kathryn was a mother to you in the only way she could be; by sacrificing everything to keep you safe."

"Tortured." Her complexion had gone pasty white and there was a slight tremor to her frame. "How? What did they do?"

He frowned. "He employed other wild talents, those with more offensive abilities. There were also more traditional methods such as what might be used in a war prison or gulag."

"Oh." She swallowed as she ran her fingers through her hair. "Oh," she said again. There was a tremor to her chin that did not bode well. His paternal instincts were not the strongest, but he got the feeling that now would be the time he might be expected to approach her and perhaps pull her into a hug. He Severus hesitated for a moment, the act not a natural one for him, before he forced himself to move forward, arms coming up for her only to be rebuffed as she held up her hands to ward him off and stepped back.

"Hermione?" She shook her head; her eye lids closing most of the way, but not completely. Severus watched as the last sliver of brown from her irises rolled back so that all he could see was the pale white of the sclera. Was she having a fit of some sort? "Hermione!"

Her eyes snapped open, wide and now darkened with something he could not quite put a name to. Her breathing was coming in shallow, measured bursts as though she were trying to fight for each gulp of air. He made to move towards her again but again she stepped back. Her eyes met his and something in his mind clicked. He knew was she was going to do, had been told of the ability by Mr. Turner just the previous day, before she started to turn away from him. "Hermione, no!"

She ignored him and vanished even as he watched. It wasn't the suddenly gone vanishing of apparition, but more like she stepped through a door that he couldn't see into a room that wasn't really there. The first thing that came to him once his mind had unfrozen was that it was too slow. Someone could get in a curse if she didn't move more quickly than that. The second thing that came to his mind was that he had no idea where she had gone to, but she had been clearly upset and likely needed someone beside her even if she did not appear to care for his company at the moment.

That thought completed, he left the study with a hope that she had not actually left the house. There was at least one person present who would be a likely candidate if Hermione needed comforting. He ignored the puzzled glances from Black and Lupin when he first checked the kitchen and found no sign of the boy before heading upstairs and checking the various bedrooms until he found Diggory sitting on a narrow bed with his back against the wall, his History of Magic book in his lap. There was no sign of his daughter. "Where is she?"

Diggory frowned. "Pardon?"

"Hermione. She took off. Where would she go?" Cedric's gray eyes blinked back at him before Severus watched his expression change from puzzled to incensed.

"What did you say to her?" He closed his book with a snap, setting it aside as he rose from the bed. Severus could not help but be surprised as the usually placid and even-tempered Head Boy closed the gap between them, hands curling up.

"Mind your attitude, Mr. Diggory. Recall to whom you are speaking."

"I don't give a damn right now." He was, however, keeping his tone low. Likely so that he didn't attract any unwanted attention for the wizards downstairs. "She was worried sick when they told her you knew. Dreaded your arrival. What did you do to her?!"

His concern over where his daughter might be faded, replaced by the realization that there was yet another person who had been aware of Hermione and her unique abilities when he had been left in ignorance. "_You_ knew? She confided in you?"

"Of course I knew!" The boy winced at his own volume, glancing towards the door before lowering his voice. "I couldn't bloody well ignore it. Not after that night in the graveyard."

"I wasn't aware that she had done anything visual that night."

"What?" Diggory looked confused for a moment before shaking his head. "I mean I couldn't ignore it after she had me brought back. Pettigrew's curse didn't fail. He killed me that night."

Severus felt the blood drain from his face. "What?"

"You heard me. Pettigrew murdered me that night. You only see what Hermione is from one side, from _this_side, but I've seen the rest of it. I've _felt_ the rest of it. You've no comprehension of what she is, and you can't begin to conceive it until you are there yourself."

Fortunately Diggory chose that moment to turn away from him. Severus did not want him to see the horror that was likely etched in his face. Life over death? That was something no one warned him about, and not a gift that was conducive to her safety should the wrong people learn of it. "How did she… save you?"

"She didn't." The boy looked back over his shoulder at him. "The others did, the Dead. What she calls the 'Great Majority'. They recognized that my being dead was causing her pain, could tell that we are in love, and I wasn't so long dead that I couldn't be put back." He gave a shrug. "Apparently they are quite strong en masse if they need to be."

That it hadn't been Hermione's doing directly did little to assure him. "Where do you think she may have gone?"

"That would depend on what you said to set her off. What were you discussing at the time?"

"Kathryn and the circumstances behind her death." How much did he tell this… he couldn't quite call him a 'boy' any longer. You couldn't call someone of age who had been murdered and brought back from death a 'boy'. Any remaining innocence would have been torn away from him. Grudgingly, he admitted to himself that he even somewhat admired Diggory's ability to keep from falling into bitterness and cynicism. "It wasn't pleasant, and for some reason Kathryn and the… Great Majority felt that I should deliver the news to her rather than disclose it to her directly."

"How 'not pleasant' was it?"

"It was the stuff of nightmares."

Diggory's jaw tightened slightly, swallowing hard. "Then she'll have either gone off to be alone for a time, or gone somewhere she can yell out to thin air without being seen. She doesn't have to be vocal when she speaks with them, but she says that sometimes it helps." The young wizard who was most likely destined to one day be his son-in-law slipped his hands into his pockets, trying to appear nonchalant. "She's clever. She won't put herself in harms way. We'll just need to sit tight until she decides to come back."


	39. Chapter 39

She didn't exit the continuum right away. She opted to hover inside the dark-light nothingness; the threads of the many entities that made up reality shimmering and weaving all abut her. Her eyes stared at them blankly as if willing them to fill her mind and block out the harshness of reality.

_"Hermione, you cannot remain inside there forever."_

_"Of course I can."_

_"Hermione."_ Salazar's voice was firm but oddly gentle.

_"Where is she?"_

_"We sent her away for your protection."_

_"I want to speak to her."_

_I hardly think you are in any condition to…"_

"Fuck that!" In her state of increased ire she had forgotten that you couldn't yell and scream inside the continuum. Even thoughts had weight here, and sound was magnified a thousand fold. Her voice bounced back at her from all directions, louder and louder until it felt like hundreds of pickaxes all trying to cut through her skull.

She clasped her hands over her ears in a futile attempt to block out the noise before latching onto Sal's 'thread' and following it out. A sob of pain escaped her as she stumbled out of the nothingness, landing on hard, damp stone. Her ears were ringing and her head pounded. Everything ached right down to her bones and her stomach threatened to rebel on her.

She lifted her head once it had stopped spinning and was greeted by the sight of bones and dried skin. Thankfully enough time had passed that the Basilisk had decayed enough it no longer reeked, but the musty smell of reptile still clung to the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione's Deadspeak picked up on the memory of the serpent still slithering about the massive space, not quite sentient enough to truly appreciate that it was dead.

_"Are you sufficiently recovered?"_

"I want to speak with her." Her voice echoed against the walls, mingling with the metallic drip of water seeping through minute cracks from the lake above.

_"Perhaps this is not the best time."_

"Find her." Her eyes moved over the pale white bones of the decaying serpent. "Find her and bring her here."

_"She may not wish to come."_

"I don't care how you manage it."

The cold presence of Salazar lessened inside her head. Hermione pushed herself up onto her knees, only faintly aware of the chill water soaking into her jeans. She felt cut up, as though countless knives had lacerated her insides. The pain had nothing to do with her foolish shouting inside the continuum.

She looked around, her eyes moving over the stone carvings and the remains of small vermin that had sustained Sal's pet over the centuries. She could hear the chittering of rats, the little beasts growing bold again and increasing their numbers now that their natural hunter was gone. The bones of the snake even showed signs of being gnawed upon, the prey having moved to sustaining themselves on its flesh after Harry had killed it. A morbid circle of life that seemed oddly fitting in this place.

The air was cool, but far warmer than what she would find far above on the surface. The chamber had the constant, just-below-comfortable temperature that caves often claimed. She tugged the sleeves of her sweater down to cover her hands, ignoring the fact that she was still sitting on cold stone and water until a voice touched her mind.

_"You bellowed?"_

She gave a little jump, her eyes closing out of reflex. "I did."

_"I was under the impression that I was deemed unnecessary."_

There was an odd note of bitterness in Kathryn's voice. "That wasn't my doing."

_"No, I suppose that it wasn't. So what was so important that you sent your new lap dog out to find me?"_

Hermione made to open her mouth, only to shut it again. She didn't want to speak to air or to shadowy voices in her head. She didn't want Kathryn to be able to hide herself behind an incorporeal turn of phrase.

She had never tried this on her own, in the past Kathy or Salazar had pulled her in, but this time she was the one who wanted a visual reference. Her first attempt was hesitant, uncertain, but her second attempt worked as her eyes rolled back into her head, her body going slack and falling back onto the wet stone as her mind found itself standing upright in the same room. This time without the dead snake a few yards away.

Kathryn was wearing her usual garb of jeans, black tee and heavy boots. The Necroscope was seated upon one of the massive feet of Salazar's statue, tracing patterns on the floor with the tip of a wakizashi. She didn't bother to look up as Hermione drew closer. "Clever girl. I wondered how long before you figured that out."

"That's a terrible abuse of that sword."

"Yeah, well, as it isn't a real sword, it hardly matters."

Hermione swallowed, though she shouldn't have any need to. "Tortured?"

"It appears that Geoffrey has branched out since I worked for him." Kathy looked up, elbows on her knees and the sword loosely held in one hand. Her whiskey colored eyes looked over her with little emotion showing. "Used to he just stuck to mind-fucks. Guess he got bored."

"Severus said that it went on for days."

"Could have. I don't really know. They had me in a secured room with no light so they could control my perceptions." She gave a shrug. "There must be handbook out there somewhere, because Trout was _really_ good at it. That or he had a lot of practice on someone else. He did a very good job of stripping away my perception of time. Of course, _I_ had experts of my own inside my head helping me to hold onto my sanity and not give in." A smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Couldn't make the job easy for him, now could I?"

"That's awful."

"Yeah, it rather is, isn't it?" Kathryn rolled the hilt of the sword over her palms, letting the weapon spin and travel from one hand to the other. "Is this the part where you try to comfort me and tell me how badly you feel about how I died? I really hope not, because I don't do well with tears."

Hermione's hands balled up of their own accord, the sudden urge to hit her mother washing over her. She forced it back. "Can't you be serious for once?"

"I'm as serious as the grave, Girl. You should know that better than anyone."

She turned away from the dead woman, reminding herself not to lose it. "Severus said… Severus said that in the end they just wanted to know if I was a boy or a girl. He said that you wouldn't even tell Trout that much."

"How would he know something like that?"

"He saw the tapes." She turned around to see that Kathy's ice-queen demeanor had slipped to allow some measure of horror to show through. A tiny stab of triumph at having shaken her shot through her chest. "Apparently Trout recorded the entire event."

"Yes, well, the man has become rather cracked." Kathy appeared to shake off her surprise, but something about it made Hermione pause. "So who showed your father the tapes? What else does he know?"

"They didn't tell. The Great Majority didn't tell you and they know everything that's happened." She shook her head. "Why wouldn't they? You're one of them now."

"As we have covered before, they like you better than they like me. They feel you're a nicer person, easier to approach in spite of being an uptight virgin." Her voice was clipped.

"Can we _please_ remain on topic?" She closed her eyes, running a hand over her hair. "Why did you give me to Mum and Dad?"

Kathy was silent for a brief time before speaking. "You already know the answer to that one as well. I had no business raising you, so I put you with someone else."

"Yes, but why _them_? Why an 'old school friend' rather than leaving me at an orphanage or on the doorstep of a church? You also said that you needed to hide me, but you took a risk by leaving me with someone you might be linked with. Trout could have found out about your connection with Mum."

"Highly unlikely. I did not give the impression of someone who had old school friends." She sounded terse and uncomfortable. "Why do you care at any rate? Are you going to complain about my choice in parents? I had the understanding that they were quite wonderful as far as such things go."

"Because. It. _Matters!_" Hermione turned back around. She thought her eyes might be burning with tears, but surely she wouldn't be able to cry here. Not inside her own mind. "Did I mean anything to you? Did you have any feelings for me at all?"

Kathryn looked back at the scant pattern she had been tracing. "Of course you didn't. Why would you ask such a silly thing?"

It hurt, as much as any physical blow, but just as soon as the pain hit she realized that this was another lie. "Why can't you just say it? It doesn't make you weak."

"Oh for the love of God!" Kathryn looked up, glaring in her direction. "I _died_ for you, you stupid little chit! Isn't that enough?"

"No, I find that it isn't. And I find that I'm sick and tired of the lies and the omissions and the half-truths. Severus might be a right bastard at times, but at least he had the guts to tell me what really happened to you. Damn it, Kathyrn! I'm your own flesh and blood! I have the right to know!"

"Bossy little swot, aren't you?" The Necroscope leaned back against the hard leg of Salazar's statue, staring at some random point of nothingness as she rolled over Hermione's demands in her mind. "I might have mislead you when I said that I got 'sloppy.'"

That got her attention. Hermione paused and looked back at her mother's contemplative expression. "How do you mean?"

"There was a list. Rather small. Only ten names on it." Kathy went back to scratching patterns into the stone. "That there are still Keoghs about is more dumb luck than anything else. We almost always get around to having a kid eventually, but it was different with the men. They weren't the ones who had to carry and raise the child, after all. In the grand scheme of genetics and procreation, the female of the species is far more valuable than the male, because we can usually only have one child at a time. Before the development of bottles and formulae the baby was dependent on us even for the milk it drank. One child for one woman at a time while a man can father dozens of children with dozens of different women within the same space of time." She gave a shrug. "And my somewhat risky lifestyle had the Great Majority worried. They… impressed upon me the importance of having an heir of my own."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "You _meant_ to get pregnant?"

"Didn't really feel it was the right time, but they had been yammering at me for months. So I told them I would consider the notion. That was when they drew up the list. Ten potential fathers, none of who I was required to stay with. They were only intended to be studs after all. Each man chosen for his intellect, but with the exception of things such as singing, which you need vocal cords able to produce a pleasant sound for, we can gain access to most any talent or skill by simply asking the right person. We just have to be clever enough to manage and control it all."

"Severus was one of the names, then."

Kathyrn gave a lopsided smirk. "The deceased wizards and witches wanted to be certain they were equally represented. The List was drawn up after I had learned there was a necromancer out there in desperate need of killing, so they… stacked the deck in their favor. One was old enough to be my grandfather and I doubt he could even still get it up without pharmacological assistance. The other was Severus, who was dangerously clever, closer to my own age, heartbrokenly in need for some hard, mindless sex and who just so happened to have the connections I'd most likely need in order to track my prey."

Kathy drew in an unneeded breath, giving a shrug. "So, you see, the Dead chose your father. Picked him over an entire planet full of men, thinking him worthy of intermingling his bloodline with ours. Well, genetically speaking at any rate. Even they agree that he isn't a nice person." She tilted her head to one side, studying Hermione. "Disturbing, isn't it, that the Great Majority meddles in our lives so much. Then again, I have always maintained that it is we who serve them, not the other way around."

"Quite disturbing." Hermione wiped her palms onto her jeans. "Will they do that to me one day? Give me a list and tell me to pick one?"

"Why should they? They're pleased as punch over the young man you've chosen for yourself. And if you think they aren't already contemplating the children the pair of you will have together, then you are a fool. That he was one of them, even if it was only for a few minutes, only increases his value in their eyes."

"I think I'm a bit young for that yet." She kicked an imaginary stone and let it skitter across the dream floor. "So… you really didn't want me. I was just… a duty."

Kathryn bent her head back over the hilt of the sword in her hand, but this time she did not move the blade. "I was… fond of my mother. I was, perhaps, more fond of my stepfather because even though he knew I wasn't his child he went out of his way to treat me as though I were his own flesh and blood. But I don't think I can say that I ever truly loved them. It wasn't in me to love anyone throughout most of my life."

She looked up, gazing off into the distance again. "Babies are very messy when they're born, and surprisingly loud. You were no exception. I remember that night clearly, and even in the heat of the moment I think I recognized how odd it was. Trout had the hospitals and midwives under watch. I toyed briefly with calling up some witch or wizard to help me into the magical world, perhaps even to that school of yours, and having some mediwitch bring you into the world, but that might have meant fessing up to the identity of your father. As luck would have it, the head of Obstetrics and a major London hospital had died of a heart attack the previous morning and was at the funeral home, being prepped for his burial. Michael helped me break in and get down to the embalming room."

She flicked her eyes over to Hermione, a slight smile on her lips. "I thought it oddly fitting that the next Necroscope be brought into the world by a dead man, though the contrast between the pair of you was undeniable. He was so pale and stiff and you were dark red and screaming at the top of your lungs, little fists flailing and blood and muck clinging to you." She paused, her expression slipping a bit. "And I remember thinking that you were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen."

Hermione stared, afraid to speak in case she disrupted whatever trance was making Kathryn so open. "I needed to be alone with you for a bit, to put the lock inside your mind. The Great Majority was furious with me over that, but I had managed to convince them that it was to keep you safe. I left your father's magic intact because most ESPers can't see into the magical world. They know it's there, and they don't try to convince themselves that magic is something else like Norms do, but they can't see it. I knew if I left it alone then eventually you would have to come here and the higher concentration of magic would shield you from prying eyes.

"So I took you in my arms, Michael left me to say my good-byes to you, and for one, brief moment of insanity… I thought I might keep you." She shook her head, closing her eyes as though dredging up every detail. "I could get enough pointers from dead witches and wizards to pass myself off as a squib. Not in England, of course, because too many of Severus' cronies knew what I looked like, would put two and two together if they learned I had a child, but perhaps America or Canada. I was already well off financially, putting out masterpieces created post-mortem by the greats under aliases, with false faces to act as fronts; a young composer in Italy, a novelist in Spain, I even had a screenwriter in Hollywood. I could easily provide for the both of us, and the magical world would only consider me a lucky squib who managed to have a magically gifted daughter. And for one, shining moment… I almost convinced myself it could work.

"Then I remembered what a hateful bitch I was. I was afraid the maternal instinct surfacing would fizzle out, leaving me as cold and distant with you as I had been with my own mother. And then I remembered that I had enemies of my own who wanted you dead, and that no hiding place was perfect. Keeping you with me… it would have been tantamount to hanging a target about your neck." She shook her head. "I knew that giving you up was the right thing to do."

"So you walked away from me."

"For the most part." The sword vanished from sight as Kathryn stood up, having never been really there in the first place. "I… indulged myself a time or two. I watched you with that spelling competition when you were eight, standing in the very back near the fire door. And I mingled with the rest of the parents the day you caught the train to Hogwarts for the first time." She stuffed her hands into her pockets. "I bought you a present for your sixth birthday. Had this speech for your parents all worked out and was going to ask if I could be your 'Aunt Kathy' at the very least, but I came to my senses in the end."

Hermione felt the urge to laugh, but tamped it down. "What was it? The present, I mean."

"A chemistry set."

"Six is too young for a chemistry set."

"Usually, but the Great Majority assured me you were unusually clever." She shrugged. "Just because you couldn't talk to them yet doesn't mean they weren't watching you. They have always watched you, but they didn't speak because it would have been disastrous. At best you would have thought you were going mad. At worst you would have tried to talk back, and that would have been quite painful. One of the side effects of the lock."

Kathryn kicked the stone from earlier back towards Hermione. "So, if when you ask if you ever meant anything to me you are really asking if I loved you…" She paused, looking quite unfamiliar with what to say next. "You are probably the _only_ person in this world that I have ever truly loved." She gave herself a shake. "And that is the only time I am ever going to admit to that, so don't bother asking me again! I guess that maternal instinct never did fizzle out, though I still maintain that placing you with a proper set of parents was the best thing for you."

Something painfully tight inside her chest slackened. She felt… lighter. Peaceful. "I… want you back." She watched as Kathryn met her gaze. "Sal tries his best, and he's really good, but he's only a wizard. And the others… they're just normal people." She made a motion with her hand, trying to find the right words. "It's like… I have two different worlds inside me, then a third one trying to mesh them together. But… you're the only one who knows the third one. The others know what I am and know that they can talk to me, but they don't understand what it's like to _be_ me. And I… I really need you there with me to help me try and find a way to make all the pieces fit together."

She paused, frowning a bit. "Besides, Severus is trying to change the rules. He wants me to stop using the Great Majority for tutors and rely on the living. He thinks that I'll turn into you."

"Oh he does, does he?" Kathy studied her, her expression guarded. "Don't think this little heart-to-heart is going to make me a nice person. I've been a bitch for too long to change my ways now. This is me, in all my messy glory."

"I don't want you to change. I just… I just wish you hadn't died like you did."

Kathryn made a slicing motion through the air. "That's not your concern, but I _will_ have a promise from you now. You are _not_ to go after Trout on your own. The man is a master at manipulating and brain washing people into doing as he tells them, and considering there are a lot of ESPers who are just as dangerous and powerful as most wizards that means he has a lot of firepower on his side. I will not have you running off on some mission of revenge."

She frowned. "But I can't just let hi…"

"Ah! I mean it! You will not go after him. Karma will catch up with that bastard in its own sweet time, and I've got nothing but time to wait for him. I'll get my own pound of flesh when it's my turn. Understand?" Hermione knew her expression was mutinous, but she gave a sharp nod. "Good." The Necroscope looked about the room, the tender moment fading. "Well… now… I believe it's supposed to be Christmas time. And I'm certain your friends are expecting you. You really should be running along."

* * *

_Author's Note: That's all 39 chapters I've gotten so far. As you can tell, I have another two and one half school years to work through. Thank you for your time and please don't forget to review._


	40. Chapter 40

A vibration from under his pillow roused Cedric from sleep. He yawned as he reached under his pillow and gripped his wand, willing it to be still. The space around him was still dark, any light blocked fully by the thick bed curtains. Still, the charm on his wand meant it was nearing seven o'clock. Time to get up.

He flexed his arm around the slender form under the blankets with him before turning onto his side and reaching over with his free hand to push the hair from her face. He pressed a kiss to her temple before daring to whisper. "It's morning. You'll need to be getting back to your dorm."

Hermione gave a mewl of protest and snuggled more tightly against his side. He couldn't keep the grin from his face. It wasn't that she didn't want to get up, well, not _just_ that she didn't want to get up, but she was warm and toasty. Leaving his side meant going back to her own bed where the sheets would be cold from not having been slept in all night.

She had returned to the house at Grimmauld Place after most everyone else had gone to bed. Snape had told the others that she had gone off to hide somewhere in the house for a bit of privacy and asked that they respect her wishes. Harry and Ron had bugged him about her, but Cedric merely told them that she and the potions master had been discussing some private matters, leaving her emotionally drained. He was certain they'd see her at breakfast.

She had appeared in the room he shared with the twins after full dark, her clothing damp and her skin icy to the touch. George snored something awful and Fred had adapted to sleep through almost anything to make up for it, so neither of them heard the quiet drying charm he had uttered over her nor did they realize she was there until they work the next morning in a panic when they found her curled up beside him in his bed. In spite of their fears, she had managed to slip out without their mother learning of her sleeping arrangements.

It had been oddly comforting, holding Hermione to him while they both slept. So much so that when she had shyly asked if she could perhaps indulge in the same from time to time after they returned to school, he had accepted. They decided not to risk it until weekends, when most other students slept in and they were less likely to be caught. Cedric knew that being discovered would spell disaster, costing him his badge and likely putting him in detention until the end of time, but he found that he slept better when they were together. Besides, it wasn't as though they were doing anything risqué. Some snogging, perhaps some heavy petting, but he was holding himself to his promise not to push for anything more until she was of age.

"You've got to wake up, Precious. You don't want the blokes to catch you in here." She burrowed for deeply in the space between his torso and the mattress, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'obliviate them'. "None of that. If you're a very good girl, I'll even sit at Gryffindor's table with you for breakfast. How's that for an incentive?"

"A very poor one." She lifted her head a bit so she could blink up at him blearily. "Can't I just stay here with you?"

"You know you can't." She pouted up at him. "That won't work on me." Still, he did lower his head to kiss her, coaxing her lips to part so that he could dip his tongue inside to taste her. He didn't even mind the morning breath, since he was pretty certain his own was just as bad.

Still, kissing her when she was soft and pliable from sleep wasn't a very smart thing to do. A certain part of his anatomy started to wake with a vengeance even as his heartbeat quickened. Still, he allowed himself a kiss, then another, and a few more until he realized he was holding her to him a bit too firmly. He was getting too close to the edge, approaching the point where he wasn't certain he'd be able to stop himself. It took a great force of will to break the kiss. "You need to go."

"I know." She didn't sound happy about it, but gave him another quick kiss before disentangling herself from his arms. He could just make out her features in the dim lighting as she wriggled out from under the covers and crouched near his legs just before she did her vanishing act. The bed curtains didn't even ripple.

With a sigh, Cedric rolled over onto his stomach, pressing his hardness into the mattress and attempting to will himself back in control. There was no denying that he was becoming a right greedy bastard. The more he saw of Hermione the more he wanted and her seventeenth birthday seemed years away rather than a scant nine months. Even then, he would be gone from school and she would be here for another two years. The coming separation worried him somewhat, especially when he suspected there were more than a few blokes who be all too happy to take his place if they could.

He shook his head, banishing away such thoughts. He trusted Hermione, probably more than anyone else he knew. The coming years would be difficult, but not insurmountable. It helped that she didn't have the time to worry about trying to strike up any romantic attachments elsewhere even if the urge were to strike her, and _he_ certainly had no desire to play the field. Other witches seemed like nothing more than pale imitations compared to her.

Cedric winced. He was become a sap as well as greedy. He'd have to watch himself.

* * *

"_Oh, quit your bitching. They're keeping their damn clothes on."_

"_You shouldn't be encouraging such behavior. It's scandalous!"_

"_Wake up and smell the twentieth century, Sal-Baby."_

"_For the last time, __**stop**__ referring to me by that idiotic name."_

Hermione accepted a piece of toast Cedric offered her. He had dressed it with butter and strawberry jam he had rescued from Ron. The younger boy still had a red mark on the back of his hand where Ced had smacked him with the flat of a butter knife. By a happy accident she had discovered that with both Kathryn and Salazar buzzing around, they spent a good amount of time arguing with one another and leaving her well alone.

"_A young lady would never have behaved in such a manner in my days."_

"_In your days she'd likely be married by now, and quite possibly dead in child birth. I rather think I prefer to have her in an era where birth control isn't just for paid whores and she can be unafraid to snuggle up with a handsome boy. More than snuggle if she's of the mind. Besides, you like him. Admit it."_

Salazar was apparently unwilling to admit to it, even though Hermione knew damn well Sal liked Cedric. For the most part. "Could you get me a couple of those bangers?"

Cedric flicked his wand over at the platter and levitated a couple of fat sausage links which then started their journey towards Hermione's plate. They had just come to rest against the fried tomatoes there when a high-pitched wailing could be heard from outside the Great Hall. Everyone in the room exchanged curious looks with one another before they rose from their seats and hurried to see what was the matter.

"But this is my _home!_ I have nowhere else to go!"

Sybil Trelawney was sobbing, her trunk beside her even as Filch was bringing up the rest of her luggage. Watching this all with a coldly smug expression was Delores Umbridge, High Inquisitor.

"What is that old gargoyle up to now?" Her voice was swallowed by the chattering of the other students about her.

"_I'm guessing_that's_ Delores Umbridge."_ Kathryn's voice was laced with speculation.

_"Yes. Her very presence here is an insult."_

_"Are you talking about her face or her position as watchdog?"_

"Surely you could see this coming, Dear. You're unable to predict so much as a weather pattern. Your performance during my observations was abysmal and you've shown no improvement. Under Educational Decree Twent…"

"Minerva!" Dumbledore's booming voice rang out from above. All heads turned upwards, a collection of gasps ringing out. "Escort Sybil back to her quarters."

Umbridge drew herself up to her full and inconsiderable height. "Dumbledore, under the direction of Educational Decree Twen…"

"You have the right to fire my staff. You do not, however, have the right to banish them from the grounds. That power lies with the headmaster alone."

Hermione could almost imagine Salazar punching the air with a fist._ "Ha!"_

_"He can be quite imposing when he wants to be."_

_"He's a first class wizard. Pity he wasn't in my house while in school."_

_"What is it with you lot and 'houses?"_ Hermione felt Kathy go very contemplative. _"That woman is trouble. Something needs to be done about her."_

She frowned. _"Such as?"_

_"Oh, don't worry about it. You've got those standardized tests of yours to study for. Leave it to me."_

Her frown deepened. _"Leave it to you? But what can you do about it? You're dead!"_

Salazar 'felt' suspicious. _"Kathryn, what are you plotting?"_

_"Don't worry about it. Everything will work out for the better."_ Before Hermione could help Salazar with his interrogation, however, Kathryn's presence was gone.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"About what?" She looked up to find Cedric's eyes looking down at her. "You think she has something else up her sleeve?"

It took her a second to connect that Cedric was talking about Umbridge. "Her? Almost certainly, but I was thinking about something else." She looked around at the students slowly returning to their breakfast, their voices humming like angry bees. "We should finish up before the house elves clear the tables."

* * *

Hermione was weary. Physical training. Classes. Dumbledore's Army. Everything was piling up on her shoulders faster than she could blink. She hardly had time for anything else. The only true peace she got was when she was sleeping. _I should have gone with my first idea and run off to Italy. At least I might have gotten some time to rest._

She shouldered her bag as she finally reached the DADA room. Although they had succeeded in her animagus transformation, she and Harry were still trying to help Ron through it. Thus, she still had to go to their 'special lessons' with Professor Black.

Shrugging her bag from her shoulder, she set it down against the closest wall of the classroom before starting towards Siruis' office in the bad. Suddenly, without warning, a large dog with a shiny, shaggy ginger coat bounded out from between two rows of desks and tackled her to the ground. Hermione sputtered as a rough, wet tongue began to lick her face. "Gerroff!"

The dog barked, his tail wagging madly. She heard the deep, rich laugh of her professor sounding from the door of his office and moved the animal's head aside long enough to see Harry standing there as well, laughing with his godfather. She looked back at the overly affectionate canine and finally caught on. "Ron!"

The dog gave a yip and jumped off her, crouching down as though wanting to play. Sirius laughed again. "He's been refusing to shift back, wanting to wait until you got here. Quite the handsome pup, isn't he?"

She got up from the floor, dusting herself off and grinning from ear to ear. "Very! And he's the same color as Crookshanks!" Her grin turned into a smirk as Dog-Ron growled. She knew that would get his dander up. "What are we to call him?"

Harry grinned. "Rosebud? He's the color of one, after all."

Ron immediately shifted back into Ron, glaring at Harry. "You bloody well wont! I'm not gonna be called 'Rosebud'."

"Sweetums, then?" Hermione dodged clear of Ron's grasp when he took a lunge at her. She had no intentions of being tickled, thank you. "But you are very handsome for a dog. I've always been partial to cats."

"I'll try not to be overly insulted by that." Sirius still gave a mock pout before waving the three of them into his office. "This deserves a celebration at the very least."

Hermione walked towards the door, Ron still scowling over their name suggestions. "It's not like we suggested you go by 'Nagini' or anything."

"Oh, give over. I think you'd look cute with a collar and nametag that read 'Sweetums'. All the girls would fawn over it."

"Shut it."

Sirius treated them to warm butter beers and luscious cakes with frosting so sweet her parents would have had a fit had they known she was eating them. The three friends sat on a comfy sofa in a hapless pile, relaxing together in a way only good friends could without seeming overly affectionate while Ron tried to steal Harry's last bit of cake.

Of course, such tranquility can never last. This time it was Harry who shattered the mood. "Can you believe that gargoyle? I mean, sure Trelawney is useless, but that was just hateful."

"She's a hateful person, Harry. Delores is the kind of woman who enjoys the suffering of others."

"She should go into the dominatrix business, then." Hermione pulled her plate out of Ron's reach when he tried to steal one of her sugared roses. She didn't notice Sirius' raised brow.

"How would a sweet miss like you learn the word 'dominatrix' or even know what one was?"

That was a silly question. "Television."

"Yes, well, perhaps your parents should monitor your recreational activities a little closer." Sirius shook his head before snagging a biscuit from a tin. "Speaking of illicit activities, I trust that the one I don't want to know about is going well?"

Hermione looked over to Harry who was wearing a smirk that would have made all of Slytherin House proud. "I'm sure we'd never be part of any illicit activities, Padfoot. After all, Hermione and Ron here are prefects! They're supposed to set a good example for the other students."

Ron gave a snort. "But if we were to be participating in any illicit activities, rest assured that it would be going well."

"Not that we are, of course," Hermione added in the end, affecting her most innocent expression. She had to work very hard not to smile.


	41. Chapter 41

Cedric stood before Professor Snape's desk with his feet firmly planted shoulder width apart and his hands clasped behind his back. The rest of the class had emptied out, but Snape had insisted that he remain behind. The wizard was currently sitting at his desk at the front of the classroom, head bent over what Ced recognized as his NEWT Level Potions Project. After what seemed like hours standing there without speaking, only the sound of their breathing and the drip of water from a leaky faucet breaking the silence, the professor raised his head.

"An ambitious project, Mr. Diggory." He leaned back in his chair. "You are not as pathetic as most students in this class, but you have never before shown any unusual skill at Potions. What made you think of this?"

"You assigned the subject matter, Sir."

"So I did." The wizard tented his fingers and peered at him over the tops. Cedric felt as though those black eyes could see into his soul. "I had expected you to find a way to brew it quicker or even make it more palatable since the main complaint about it is the taste. I had not expected you to increase its effectiveness a thousand fold." He paused, narrowing his eyes. "You didn't learn any of this in my classroom. This level of knowledge takes years to master. Where did you get your information?"

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. "I used Hallifax's journals and research notes."

"There's nothing in the papers that leads to this sort of conclusion."

"The ones that he hid away to prevent them from being destroyed." Perhaps it was perverse of him that he got some bit of pleasure at the expression on Snape's face. It was shock, at first, before giving way to clear envy.

"You have Hallifax's journals?"

"Yes, Professor."

"How did you get them? _Where_ did you find them?"

This was going to be fun. "Hermione found them for me."

He wasn't disappointed. Snape's jaw dropped open a bit before he snapped it shut. "I suppose she also helped you with your work."

"No, Professor. I insisted on doing that myself. She only obtained the notes and journals for me."

"And how did she fi… never mind I know that answer." Snape took a breath. "_How_ did she manage to secure the journals?"

Cedric gave a shrug, knowing that he was probably sealing his own fate by smiling the way he was. "You know Hermione, Sir. As far as I can tell, there aren't many places she can't get into if she really wants to be there."

The dark wizard made a sound that was very much like a snarl. "Mr. Diggory, you will bring me those journals. And in the future, I will thank you not to encourage my daughter to indulge in unsanctioned trips away from the school grounds. In case you have forgotten, someone out there very much wants her dead."

The smile fell from his face. "Yes, Professor. I'll get the journals to you immediately." He gathered up his satchel and moved quickly away from the classroom. Still, he believed he had managed to impress Professor Snape, which was no small feat. If he could manage that, then he should be able to pass his NEWT without trouble.

He was just rounding a corner while deciding to ask that house elf that hung around Potter to take the journals down to Snape rather than go down to the dungeons a second time tonight when he nearly collided with Umbridge. "Oh, sorry, Ma'am."

The toad-like woman blinked up at him. "Diggory, isn't it? What are you doing here?"

He blinked. "I was discussing my NEWT-level Potions project with Professor Snape, Ma'am."

"Were you?" How she always managed to sound as though she was throwing about accusations he couldn't begin to explain. She leaned to the side to peer behind him down the hallway. "Who else is back there?"

Cedric frowned. "I'm sorry?"

"You heard me, Mr. Diggory!" Her voice had a cold bite to it to it as she stepped around him and raised her wand up, the tip lighting to cast a bit of extra light into the gloom of the dungeon walls. "I can hear you back there! Show yourselves!"

To say that he was confused would have been putting it mildly. The hallway was empty and quiet. Not even a ghost could be seen. "Ms. Umbridge, there's no one there." The witch continued to peer down the corridor. "Would you like me to go and get someone for you?"

She turned to give him a suspicious look before shaking her head. "That wont be necessary, Mr. Diggory. Be on your way. You've no reason to be loitering about here."

"Yes, ma'am." Cedric turned away, but not before seeing that Umbridge was again peering down the hallway in apparent search for her phantom interlopers. Perhaps the near constant chill and the sound magnifying corridors were getting to her.

* * *

Hermione was more than happy to help the younger students work out revision schedules in preparation for their end of term examinations, but at the moment most people were avoiding her. Most likely it had something to do with the fact that she was in 'scary mode'. Ron's words, not hers. 

OWLs were only a few months away and her 'twin terrors' were sharply divided over her time. Kathy, of course, thought she was slacking off too much from her training. Sal seemed to be on her side regarding the time she spent studying and pointed out that she got in her defense training with the DA. Lately, however, there had been less and less of Kathy. Ever since the fiasco with Professor Trelawney and Um-Bitch (another Ronism) the deceased Necroscope was spending more and more time away.

She shook her head and returned her thoughts to Transfiguration just moments before Ron waved a piece of parchment under her nose. "Look at this!"

Hermione blinked and took the parchment from his hand, scanning the black ink. "Inquisitorial Squad? She can't be serious! Getting our fellow students to rat us out!"

"Three guesses who'll be the first to line up."

She pursed her lips. It did sound like something the Slytherins would trample over one another to get to. "We'll have to watch ourselves. They're right sneaky bastards on their own. They'll likely be three times as bad with _her_ egging them on."

Harry and Ron sat down at her table, leaning in close so they wouldn't be overheard. "But we have your galleons still." Harry's voice was barely over a whisper. "We can still set meeting without looking overly suspicious."

"We should probably bring it up at the next meeting. Tell folks to be casual about coming up for the DA." Ron took back the parchment. "I mean, if a horde of students all head the same direction at once, it'll look funny."

Hermione nodded her head in agreement. "We should." She scowled. "That woman is becoming more trouble than she's worth. She really is." Leaning back in her seat, she rubbed her eyes firmly. "This is the last thing we need. Honestly." She sank further into her seat when she heard Seamus Finnegan from across the room give a shout of surprise.

"Professor Lupin?!"

The Gryffindors in the room all looked towards the portrait hole, craning to see around one another as the disheveled and world-weary form of Remus Lupin came through, followed close behind by Sirius. The trio's faces all split into wide grins before they barreled across the room and took turns hugging the werewolf.

"Told you they'd be happy to see you, Remus."

Hermione stepped back, aware that the rest of the Gryffindors were crowding around them. "What brings you to the school, Professor?"

"Just 'Remus', Hermione. I'm not your professor any longer, after all." Lupin released Harry, ruffling his already messy hair. "As for my being here, Professor Snape asked me to come and help him with testing one of the projects from his NEWT level class."

She blinked. As far as she knew there was only one student who was doing anything that might require the presence of a werewolf. Of course, she didn't know_everything_, even though she could if she wanted to. Still, what were the chances that another student would be working with such a potion?

Sirius rubbed his hands together, looking around the common room with an undisguised glee. "It's a bit too tame in here. Nothing at all like back in our day. What say we liven things up a bit, shall we?"

* * *

This was his punishment for being so smug when Snape kept him after class. He just knew it. 

Cedric checked the wards on the room and the massive cage again. Everything had to be perfect. It wouldn't do for a werewolf to get loose inside the castle.

He could hardly wrap his mind around the fact that Professor Snape had asked Remus Lupin to come to the school during the full moon to test the changes to the Wolfsbane Potion.

What if he'd made a mistake? What if he'd gotten something wrong? What if he made Professor Lupin's condition worse… or possibly even poisoned him?

"Are you done, Mr. Diggory?" Cedric turned and looked over his shoulder. Professor Snape was carrying a goblet of the potion, smoke roiling from its surface. Professor Lupin stepped out from behind him, shrugging off his outer robes, a wane sort of half-smile on his face.

"Yes, Professor. Everything is set to your specifications, Sir."

"Good. Perhaps it would be best if you removed your clothing, Lupin. I doubt you can afford to loose any more garments. The house elves have provided a robe for your use."

"Thank you, Severus." Remus gave Cedric a supportive grin as he walked past him and into the cage. "Will you be staying, Cedric?"

"Of course, Lupin. I have arranged for Mr. Diggory to be excused from his other classes this week so that he may dedicate himself to this project. As it is based on his research and work, it is only fitting. And at any rate, I need to attend to the other students in my classes. I will leave you in his tender mercies."

Snape handed Cedric the goblet. "The house elf known as Dobby has been told to keep himself available to your needs. Remember to keep detailed notes on tonight's events, Mr. Diggory. I want to know everything that happens."

"Yes, Professor." He watched as Snape left the room, robes billowing out behind him. The heavy door swung shut with an oddly cold note of finality.

"No need to look so frightened, Cedric." He turned his attention back to Remus. The werewolf had changed into the plush robe the elves had provided for him and was currently looking over the cage and its wards. "You've done a fine job here. I should be well secured."

"Professor, I'm sorry that he's pulled you into this. Believe me, I ne…"

Remus held up a hand. "No apologies are needed, Cedric. Severus went over your research with me and he does admit he believes you have made some vast improvements in the potion. And believe me, it pained him to say it. You've impressed him, no matter how much he wants to hate you. No small feat."

He managed a brief smile as Remus placed his shoes atop his folded clothing. "Here. I haven't been able to improve the taste of it any, I'm afraid." Cedric handed Lupin the goblet of potion.

"Well, we can't have everything, can we?" The werewolf gave a mock toast and downed the potion as quickly as he was able. He gave a shudder of revulsion after choking down the last drop and handed the goblet back to Cedric before getting into the cage and closing the door. It latched automatically. "Don't feel bad if this horrifies you. It is a rather traumatic thing to observe." Cedric swallowed, hard, but said nothing. He wasn't looking forward to this at all.

The cage had a sturdy chair, but nothing else. The world-weary wizard settled into it and crossed one leg over the other, his fingers lacing together around a knee. "So how are things progressing with you and Hermione?"

The change in subject took him a bit off guard. "Oh, fine. Better than fine, actually." He felt his cheeks heat up as he recalled the previous Saturday spent behind the cover of his bed curtains and how nice it had felt to keep Hermione snuggled up to his side.

"Severus giving you trouble over it?"

"Besides assigning me projects far beyond what a student should be tackling in an attempt to drive me to suicide? Not really." Remus chuckled and Cedric relaxed a bit. He had his own chair on the other side of the cage door and took a seat there, parchment and quill at the ready.

"As petulant as he may be over your relationship with his daughter, Severus would not have assigned you the wolfsbane potion if he did not believe you had at least some chance at doing something with it. He wouldn't knowingly put you in harm's way."

"Excuse me, Professor, but are we speaking about the same Severus Snape? He loathes students."

"Well, he's not a particularly likeable fellow, no. And he is rather bitter, but that is more because of the hand life dealt him than his like or dislike of students. Severus has little patience for blatant ignorance or lack of intelligence. It makes him hard to deal with." The wizard gave a chuckle. "I imagine it was something of a relief that when he found that he was a father his child turned out to be Hermione. He would have been mortified with anything less than genius."

"Yes, I suppose he would have been." Cedric thumbed the edge of the parchment absently. "Sometimes I feel as though we're under a viewing glass, me and Hermione that is. Like everyone's curious as to how we'll turn out."

"Oh, as to that, it has to do with the fact that there are a lot of people with somewhat overprotective feelings towards the girl. And can we be blamed? Some of us worry for her because we know that Severus can be an utter bastard more often than not. Most of us worry because this damnedable war is being fought, in part, because of irrational prejudices towards those who are of half-blood or less. True, being Snape's daughter does afford her some small protection, but that is almost completely obliterated by her allegiances. Her parents, the Grangers, can do nothing to keep her safe. Their own lives are in danger because they are muggles who dared to raise a witch. Severus' position only protects her slightly, because eventually the Dark Lord will expect him to bring his daughter to heel."

"So why train all eyes on me?"

"Can't you guess?" There was a teasing note in Remus' voice. "You're willing to stand up to Snape in her name. You're clearly in love with her. If you take things so far as to marry her once she leaves school then it will fall to you as her husband to see to her safety. We just want to be certain you're up to the job."

It was almost funny. Of course no one other than himself, Professor Dumbledore and perhaps Professor Snape understood that Hermione likely didn't need much in the way of protection. "I'm up to the job."

Remus gave a wince. "That's good to know, Mr. Diggory. Can't le…"

Lupin gave a sudden moan and doubled over. Cedric felt his entire body go rigid, torn between wanting to help and wondering if he should run away. His eyes flicked over to the door of the cage. It was latched, and tightly.

He hoped that it would hold.

Cedric swallowed. "Professor Lupin? Can you… can you hear me?"

Lupin gave another pain-filled sound before sitting up. "I can hear you, Cedric." He took several breaths. "Shifting is always painful. It hurts you in your bones. By the time it reaches the rest of you, you're in too much pain to care."

Perhaps he should have thought to add a pain-relieving element to the potion. Still, he had a task to complete. Reminding himself of why they were here, Cedric straightened himself in his seat and readied his quill. "Can you… describe the pain?"

The werewolf gave a grunt as he tried to keep seated upright. "It's like… my joints are being pulled apart. It's because the wolf's structure is different from human structure. The b… bones have to warp and… and twist."

He winced. It _did_ sound painful. Cedric jotted everything down as neatly as he could, trying to keep his hand steady even though Lupin kept making those pain-filled sounds. When he looked up from his parchment he found that apart from being rather pale and clammy looking, the werewolf still looked like a man. "Uh… Professor… how long does this change usually take?"

Remus frowned. "That's the pe… peculiar thing about it." He took a few deep breaths. "It should already have happened. My bones feel like they want to change, but… they aren't."

He stilled. He wasn't shifting form? Cedric looked over at a candle with hour marks and noted the amount of time that had passed. "Does… the pain seem to be lessening?"

"Unfortunately, no. It does not appear to be giving up."

"I see." He puzzled on this a bit. "Perhaps we should give it a bit more time. If you still aren't… shifting and the pain is still present, we might try a pain relieving potion."

"I concur." Lupin winced. "Of course, it might interfere with the wolfsbane in some way."

"We'll start out with something mild. Something that doesn't interact with much."

"A good plan, Mr. Diggory."

And so they waited. Cedric took down the observations that Remus made until about an hour had passed and the pain in his joints and bones still did not let up. At that point he summoned Dobby and had the house elf bring him one of Madame Pomfrey's more subtle pain potions. It did little to cut through the discomfort and after an hour they tried something a bit stronger.

The second potion lessened the pain a bit, but it was still not comfortable. The more important event of note was that Remus still did not show any signs of changing form. Cedric was uncomfortable with giving him anything else for the pain that night out of concern that Lupin might overdose, which had the potential of being worse than shifting.

That being the case, Remus had to ride out the rest of the evening until pre-dawn, the time when he would normally become a man again. It was a weakened and weary Remus Lupin who stepped out of the cage that first night, still clad in the same plush robe he had slipped on the night before and without any fresh scratches and bite marks from self-inflicted wounds.

It wasn't a cure, of course, but it did have the potential of being a marked improvement. They would have to try different pain potions of the next two nights to see if the new wolfsbane potion would be of any wanted use to anyone.

* * *

_Author's Note: Thank you for the warm reception for this story. Please don't forget to click the little button below and feed your writer._


	42. Chapter 42

"What are you doing?"

Hermione gave a smile as she continued pasting the newspaper clipping onto a page of a scrapbook her mother sent her for bits of memories while in school. "Just marveling at how brilliant my guy is."

Cedric blushed. "I couldn't have done it without your help."

"I only found you the journals. You figured out how to make it work all by yourself." She held up the book and showed Ced the newspaper clipping about how he, Head Boy and co-Champion of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, had developed a new and valid treatment for lycanthrophy. "You've really impressed them, Mr. Diggory."

His blushed deepened and she grinned as he rubbed the back of his neck like he always did when he was embarrassed. "They're still going to play around with it. They're hoping they can find a way to blend it with a pain relieving potion for one dosage instead of having to take two different drafts."

"Yes, but _you_ put them on the right track." She grinned. "Stop being so modest. You're brilliant. Admit it." He gave her a playful nudge and pretended to ignore her. "Admit it."

"Sod off."

She gave a little growl and started to tickle his ribs. Ced cut off a yelp and tried to move away. "Admit it!"

"Stop! All right! I'm a clever swot. Happy?"

"Immensely." Hermione leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder and ignoring the giggles (and the occasional sound of gagging) around them in the Great Hall. He'd come over to the Gryffindor for lunch to keep her company. Of course, she hadn't gotten around to actually eating just yet. The newspaper article was more important in her way of thinking.

"You've got Care of Magical Creatures today, right?"

Hermione nodded as she reached for a bit of roast chicken. "Not really looking forward to it, though. Umbridge will be there. I just know she's going to try and flub up Hagrid, and he _just_ got back."

"I saw him. He's looking ragged, more so than usual. Any idea why?"

She shook her head. "We asked him, of course, but he dodged us. With more skill than he usually shows, I might add. Most of the time he's horrible when it comes to keeping secrets."

Ced frowned even as he gently nudged her plate against her hand in a silent reminder that she needed to eat. She took the hint and helped herself to a bite of kippers. "So he's not talking. That's new."

"And nerve wracking."

"Maybe he's just not ready to confide in you, or perhaps it's something he'd feel more comfortable talking about with another adult." She paused; hand poised over a muffin, and gave Cedric a questioning look. He shrugged. "With everything you've been through, I think sometimes you forget we're still just students. Most of the adults still consider us 'just kids'."

"Hmmm… you might have a point there. I think we do forget sometimes. I mean, we've been through so much… and I doubt Harry's felt like a child for a while, now. He's never been afforded the luxury."

"Harry's had it rough, that's a cert. C'mon, eat up, but nothing too heavy. Umbridge is hard on the digestion."

Hermione gave a little grin, but did have a bit more before it was time to leave for Care of Magical Creatures. They dared a brief kiss, over almost as soon as it had begun so as not to bring down any scolding or vengeful wrath from an irate potions master, and so as to avoid any further mock gagging from the boys at the table. She made a face at Seamus and Dean before shouldering her book satchel and heading out of the Great Hall, Cedric leaving his own way to head off to NEWT Level Ancient Runes.

Harry and Ron met up with her just outside the doors and walked with her towards Hagrid's hut. "Where did you two run off to, then?"

"Couldn't take much more of you a Cedikins." Harry smirked over at her while Ron stifled an amused snort. "Do you _really_ have to make goo-goo eyes at him while we're trying to eat?"

"Oh, grow up." She stalked past them, ignoring their sniggers as she neared the hut. The Slytherins were there, along with a few Gryffindors, both sides standing apart and exchanging glares. Hermione took in the scene and shook her head. "Sometimes I think we should just build a boxing ring and let them have at one another."

Ron looked lost. Harry grinned. "No need to build a ring. We can just let'em do it street style. Of course, we don't have a street."

"And the professors would have our heads." She couldn't keep from smiling as Hagrid came into view. He still looked rough and battered, but it was so good to have him home.

She'd never admit that Grubblyplank was a better teacher, not to his face, but it wasn't for lack of knowledge. Hagrid probably knew more about magical creatures than anyone else living. He just had a poor way of expressing himself when it came to teaching. Not to mention that he sometimes forgot that his students weren't nearly as hardwearing as he. Still, she did get a feeling that Hagrid could be a first rate Care of Magical Creatures professor if someone would take the time to take him under their wing and show him how.

Of course, first he had to survive Um-bitch.

As if on cue, the bane of Hogwarts made her way towards the class as Hagrid was leading them into the forest, a large slab of meat over his shoulder. Hermione's narrowed eyes took in her somewhat rumpled robes and less-than-perfect hair curiously. "She's looking worse for wear."

Ron scowled. "We're supposed to care about that? I'd say it was likely her conscience is getting to her, but I don't believe she has one."

"Maybe whatever got hold of Hagrid took a round with her as well," supplied Harry. "But she is looking a bit rough around the edges. I overheard some of the sixth years say they ran across her up in a fourth floor corridor the other day. They said she was muttering to herself and examining every corner as if looking for something."

"Great." Ron shook his head. "Trust Fudge to send a nutter to Hogwarts."

Umbridge stumbled a bit on her heels as she reached the group of students. The witch tugged uselessly at her robes and put a haughty lift to her chin. "Professor, I believe I sent you a message that I would be observing your class today."

"Eh? Wha? Oh! Oh, yeah. I got that. Well, make yourself at'ome, then." Hagrid threw down the slab of meat into the clearing and let out a shrill whistle. "Shouldn't be long now. Got a good lesson for you all t'day. Really interestin'."

There was nothing for a time, and then Hermione felt Harry take a step backwards. She looked over to ask him what was the matter when she heard Lavender give a squeal, pulling her attention back to the meat. Something, something she couldn't see, was pulling at it.

_"Ah! Thestrals!"_ Sal's voice sounded intrigued. _"Rather advanced for a fifth year class, I would think, but definitely interesting."_

_"Thestrals?"_ Hermione's mind eagerly called up the facts she knew about them even as Hagrid asked for a volunteer as to why not everyone could see them. Her hand shot up out of habit. "Because they can only be seen by people who have seen death." _But why can't I see them?_

_"Because you've never actually seen death. Your Cedric was already dead when you found him."_

_"Sure, but if anyone should be able to see them…"_

Sal gave a chuckle. _"If it means that much to you, then."_ Her eyes prickled with cold as he looked through them. The horse-like creatures sort of faded into view and it was all she could do to stifle a gasp. _"There. Better?"_

They were oddly beautiful, even with their too-thin shapes and odd, blank eyes. She wanted to step forward to touch one, but kept herself in check as she recalled that she wasn't supposed to be able to see them.

Umbridge's voice broke over the din of whispering students. "Are you not aware that Thestrals have been classified as dangerous creatures by the ministry?"

_"Nonsense," _Salazar snorted disdainfully, _"They are no more dangerous than any other wild beast. Treat them with respect and you'll deal well enough with one another."_

Umbridge was making a note on her clipboard, something along the lines of Hagrid apparently finding pleasure in the idea of violence when her head twitched as though hearing something else. "What was that, Dear?" When no one answered her, she lifted her eyes and peered around. "Did someone have a question?"

The students looked back at her blankly, casting glances to one another and occasionally giving a shake of a head. No one had heard anyone ask a question.

"Oh, come now, no need to be intimidated. Speak up!" Her chin lifted sharply, peering over a gathering of Slytherin heads. "Over there! I hear you. Speak up!" The Slytherins banded more tightly together, as if afraid she might have something contagious.

Ron shook his head from where he stood near Hermione's shoulder. "Told you. Complete nutter."

* * *

_"When do you plan to sleep?"_

_"When my eyes are closed."_

_"Smart ass."_

Salazar gave a bark of laughter inside her mind. _"At least she comes by it naturally. Both you and her father possess the same trait."_

The bone of contention was the revision schedules Hermione was drawing up for herself and most of the fifth year Gryffindors. Some grumbled. Some were various shades of thankful. Some just looked at her like she'd sprouted an extra head. This was her fourth change in the revision schedules and OWLs were looming ever closer.

_"You're neglecting your training again."_

_"Kathryn, she has her academic future to consider as well. She'll only be a formal student for another three years. Let her at least try to squeeze some normalcy into her life."_

Who would have thought that Salazar Slytherin would be the more parental of the pair? Sometimes the two of them bickered like an old married couple, an image that alternately made her giggle or screw up her face in disgust. She had trouble imagining Kathryn with someone like Sal, even more so than she had trouble imagining her with someone like Severus. The concept of Kathryn St. James as a sexual being, outside of using her charms to get something she wanted, was foreign to her.

She found herself lost in her thoughts of revision schedules and her mother's oddly forced asexual nature and almost missed the charmed galleon in her pocket heating up. Eventually the warmth snagged her attention and she reached in to fish it out. They were meeting now, which silenced Kathy's needling about it being past time she paid a visit to the Room of Requirement for a bit of strength training. Couldn't very well tie up the place now.

She put away her quills and parchment, hurrying her satchel up to her room and securing it in her footlocker before making her way back downstairs. While it would be every so much easier just to teleport to the fifth floor hallway, she did not want to make a habit of using the Continuum if she didn't need to. Though faint, she could feel the slightly addictive call of it pulling at her whenever she was inside, whispering about all the places she could go and see. It was best to keep her feet firmly on the ground unless she was in a pinch.

They trickled one or two at a time for the most part, though the Ravenclaws arrived mostly together having all been in a study group at the time. Hermione exchanged a grin with Cedric as she stopped to pull her hair back with a scrunchie. "Fancy meeting you here, Mr. Diggory."

"Fancy meeting you here, Miss Granger." Ernie McMillan gave a groan and a roll of his eyes.

"Don't start that, you two. You'll make us too ill to practice." Several of the other boys sniggered as they set their packs down. Ron walked past Hermione, yanking her hair playfully as he did so.

"Right. You're a prefect, you are. Set an example and stop corrupting our Head Boy." That brought about full-blown laughter from several. "What're we doing today, Harry?"

"We're going to continue working on the patronus charm." Most groaned in response. "The Ministry is foolish for trusting the Dementors. The moment Voldemort offers them a place in his army; they'll defect, if they haven't already. The only sure way to keep them at bay is the patronus charm."

Harry took a stand in the center of the room and gave everyone an encouraging smile. "Right, now I know this isn't easy. Even adult wizards have trouble with the patronus charm, but each and every one of you has at least managed to get a spark. You've got the incantation down pat. All you need to do is get a grip on the memory to fuel the charm itself. Make it a truly happy one."

They broke off into pairs and started working. Hermione was more than a bit frustrated with this charm, if the truth were to be told. Sure, she had the incantation down. That was the easy part. And she wasn't weak at magic by any means. But, like many of the others, she was having trouble focusing on a sufficiently happy memory.

To tell the truth, ever since she had learned about her true parentage, her life had been so topsy-turvy. It had only gotten worse once she'd broken through the 'locks' Kathryn had put inside her mind and gained access to her Deadspeak. Constant training, harsh criticisms, near-mortal peril… life hadn't been easy by any stretch of the imagination. Between that and her near constant weariness from all her hard work, she was having trouble hanging onto a single thought that was happy enough to sustain even a shield form for very long.

Unlike Cedric. Her show-off boyfriend had managed it in under two hours. A bright, shining otter. She wasn't certain what his happy memory was, but she had a feeling it had something to do with her because every time he managed it he sent a little smirk her way. Perhaps she was just jealous he'd managed it first, but sometimes her hand itched to smack the smile right off him.

She turned a shoulder against him, ignoring the deep chuckle he gave in response and tried again. She had to have at least one happy memory strong enough to stand up against all the chaos. The day she'd found out that she was a witch hadn't worked. The day she'd become friends with Harry and Ron had held up all right for a bit. There was nothing about her second year worth being happy over and her third year had been a nightmare by anyone's standards.

Fourth year had been stressful as well, and not even the thrill of triumph over catching that cow, Rita Skeeter, could really be considered a 'happy' memory. And then there had been that terrible night in the graveyard. Voldemort's return and Cedric's murder. She had felt her whole world end in that moment that she'd seen his body lying there, motionless. If the Great Majority hadn't taken upon themselves to intercede on her behalf she doubted she would have been able to focus long enough to get Harry out of there.

Thank goodness Cedric hadn't freaked afterwards. She'd been terrified that he would. She knew she would have gone ape were she in his place. His acceptance of everything that she was, with all her quirks and neuroses, had really gone a long way to soothe her fears. That he could still love her just as she was.

And it all clicked into place. Just the thought of Cedric made her feel more at peace, more balanced.

Hermione turned her face towards Cedric and gave him a little smirk of her own. "Expecto Patronum!" Something silver and massive erupted from the tip of her wand, quickly taking shape and startling the students nearest her.

Ron gave an excited yelp and tripped over his own feet to fall backwards onto his bum. "Fluffy?!"

Hermione looked back. Sure enough, her patronus had taken the form of a Cerberus hound, three heads and all. She gave a little yelp of her own and just like that her concentration was lost. The hound dissipated into vapor as all eyes turned to gawk at her. She felt her cheeks burning and was suddenly shy. Not knowing what to say, she gave a weak shrug and quickly urged Neville to give it a try.


	43. Chapter 43

Cedric leaned back against the pillows and headboard, leaving his book open and face-down on his chest so he could rub his eyes. "If I make it through this with my sanity in tact, it'll be a miracle." An amused snort came from another bed in the room.

"So says the school's Golden Boy. You'll probably get an O on each test." Hector Finch kicked one of the posts of his own bed idly. "I, on the other hand, am looking forward to my career in maintenance at the Ministry of Magic." Ced gave a chuff. Hector was in the top tenth percentile in their year. He was quite unlikely to end up failing. "Besides; your girl would never let you fail."

"Hermione's got her own problems. She's facing OWLS this year, and running herself ragged trying to get her friends ready for them as well." _And keeping up with her training. And trying to balance her relationship with her parents and Professor Snape. And trying to keep the ghosts happy as well as her little friends under the lawn._

"She is quite the natural in teaching, isn't she?" Hector set his own book down and frowned thoughtfully. "You know, most people figure she'll end up working in the Department of Mysteries of something, but I have to wonder if old McGonagall won't take her under her wing to replace her."

Cedric frowned. "Replace her? Where's McGonagall going, then?"

"Head Master, of course, or Head Mistress, rather. I mean, brilliant as he is, Dumbledore's getting on in years, isn't he? And who else is good enough to replace him? She can't very well run the school _and_ teach transfiguration."

He paused, a feeling of shock rippling over him. It seemed impossible to think of a day when Dumbledore would not be in charge of Hogwarts. It seemed impossible to think of a day when Dumbledore wouldn't be alive and breathing, watching people with that maddening twinkle in his eyes. Still, he had to acknowledge that the venerable wizard would leave them one day. And it followed suit that someone else would have to be in charge of Hogwarts. Hector was right in that McGonagall was a natural replacement.

But Hermione as a teacher? Sure, she was good at it, but Cedric couldn't imagine that she would have the time for it. He hadn't give much thought to her having a 'real' job at all, if the truth were to be told. Not that he expected her to be a stay-at-home wife or anything, but he had accepted that there were other matters that would take much of her time and attention. And it wasn't as though she _had_ to work. Her inheritance from Kathryn had seen to that.

"Gah, Ced! Don't do that again!"

He frowned and looked up. "Do what?"

"Get all starry-eyed. You do it every time she crosses your mind." Hector shook his head. "It's sickening, watching the pair of you."

Cedric could feel his skin heating up and scolded himself silently for it. Blokes didn't blush. At least, they shouldn't blush. It brought about sniggers from your so-called best mates, as Hector was doing. With a growl, he sent a pillow sailing across the room to smack into the other Puff's face.

* * *

"You know, you are a nasty piece of work. And coming from me, that's saying something."

Umbridge spun around, her eyes wide as she scanned her personal quarters. "Who's there? Show yourself!"

The disembodied voice chuckled. It was the same voice she had heard here and there about the castle. Always mocking. Always snide. "Trust me when I say that you don't want to see me, Delores. It's all right if I call you Delores, isn't it?"

Umbridge's eyes sought out the darker corners of her room. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"You know, I had to ask about as to what exactly those special quills of yours might be." Apparently the voice was ignoring her inquiries. "Punishment Quills. Tsk. Tsk. You actually want to use those things on children? And I thought I was a bitch."

"Bad children should be punished!"

The voice gave a bark of laughter. "Like you're fit to judge who deserves punishment and who does not. If anyone deserves to be punished, it's you, Delores."

_She_ deserved punishment? How absurd. How outrageous! Her spine went ramrod straight as she pointed her wand towards nothing. "I have done nothing wrong! Every action I have taken has been with the full blessing of the Minister of Magic himself!"

"Everything?" The voice was so dry it could have been unbuttered toast. "Does that include sending dementors after an innocent boy?" It spat out the word 'dementors' as though it had tasted something unpleasant. "Does that include unleashing those abominations on a child?"

"He has to be silenced! He cannot be allowed to run about spreading Dumbledore's lies!"

"And what makes you so certain that they are lies, Delores?" There was an icy brush across the back of her neck. She spun on the spot, trying to catch a glimpse of something, anything, but saw only empty air. "Why is the Ministry so certain that this Voldemort character hasn't returned?"

Umbridge's eyes continued to scan the room, but the voice seemed to come from everywhere at once. "Because he cannot be back!" She spun about, sending light from her wand tip into the darkest areas. "What are you? A school ghost? Some trick of Dumbledore's to try and discredit me? I demand you cease your torments at once!"

"I am no mere ghost, Delores. And I am certainly not one of Dumbledore's tricks. He's a bit too fair minded for my tastes, but he's a good man. A good man who does not deserve to be maligned and slandered as your precious Cornelius has done. So Dumbledore is lying, is he? Harry faced no one but Pettigrew and a few Death Eaters refusing to let go of the past, did he? And is Cedric Diggory lying as well?"

Umbridge squared her shoulders, which were now trembling with rage. "Enough of this! I demand you show yourself at once!" Her voice rang out against the stone walls of her room. The voice laughed in response.

"I told you, you don't truly want to see me. However, if you insist…"

"I. Do."

"Then turn around."

* * *

Hermione and the other Gryffindor prefects were doing their best to keep their fellow housemates in line, but everyone was whispering excitedly as they crowded around and tried to catch a glimpse of what was going on.

"Someone said they could hear her screaming all the way up to the sixth floor."

"Always knew she was nutters."

"I heard that she was running down the corridors starkers!"

A shudder of revulsion ran through Hermione at that thought. It appeared that the entire school knew that the healers from St. Mungos had come for Umbridge. It was only proper, of course, considering the witch had finally come unhinged.

"_I'm disappointed, to tell the truth."_

Hermione gave her sternest frown to a second year who had tried to sneak past her even as she responded to Salazar. _"Disappointed in what?"_

"_In Umbridge. I thought she'd hold out longer than this. Your mother may be unsettling, but I wouldn't have thought her this skilled."_

"_What does Kathryn have to do with Umbridge being cracked?"_

Sal gave a cold chuckle in the back of her mind. _"My dear girl, who do you think cracked her? She's been working on the woman for weeks! Whispering in her ear and bringing Delores' failings into sharp relief. Few men can withstand the horror of their own inner demons, though I did expect that one to have sunk so low into herself that it really should have taken longer."_

They were finally managing to get the students turned around and headed back to their dorms. _"But how could she have done anything? She's dead! Umbridge shouldn't have even been aware of her."_

"_In life Kathryn was one of the living who spoke to the dead. Now that she _is_ dead, she is one of the dead who can speak to the living, if she so desires."_

"_But she can still communicate with you."_

"_And you can still communicate with your dear Mr. Diggory, as well as your other living friends."_

"_Good point."_ She didn't know whether to be upset or not. She remembered that Kathryn had mentioned _something_ about taking care of the Umbridge problem, but she hadn't realized she'd meant personally. She wasn't certain that she was all that comfortable with the idea that Kathryn had driven Umbridge crazy.

On the other hand, it couldn't have happened to a nicer person. Hermione tried not to look as though she were staring as the healers shuffled off a tightly bound Delores Umbridge.

Later that same evening she was clucking her tongue at Ron over his failure to stick by the revision schedule she had drawn up for him. "Honestly, do you _want_ to get a T in Potions?"

"But I'm shite with Potions, Hermione. You know that!"

She didn't bother to scold him for his language. It never worked now that they'd heard her swear. "You're only bad at Potions because Severus makes you nervous. But the professors aren't the ones administering the examinations. We'll have Ministry assigned testers. And it's a good bet that they either taught him or were taught by him."

"So they'll either be the ones who made him a hateful git or ones he taught how to be a hateful git."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Fine, be that way. I'm not going to drive myself spare trying to help you if you're not willing to help yourself." Rather than being duly chastised, Ron grabbed a Quidditch magazine and threw his legs over one of the arms of the chair in which he was sitting.

Hermione gave a little huff before returning to her own studies. She was caught up in goblin rebellions when some of the ever-present whispers at the back of her mind became more and more intelligible.

"_Something needs to be done about him. We cannot let him get away with this!"_

"_I said 'drop it', Sal. I'm more than capable of waiting until Trout kicks it. Then he's mine."_

"_He murdered you!"_ Salazar's outrage was echoed throughout the Great Majority. Hermione could feel it like ripples in a previously calm lake.

"_Yes, he murdered me. I was there, remember. But I will not have Hermione going off after him."_

"_She won't have to go after him! He's more than willing to come looking for her."_

"_And he wont find her. Not with her tucked safely inside the magical world. He's an ESPer, not a wizard. He can't see her now."_

"_So she's safe until the next time she goes home to her parents after school lets out. You do realize that he'll be waiting for that."_

"_Trust Michael to handle that part of things."_

"_Could you two keep it down in there? Some of us are trying to study."_ She was growing weary of the Great Trout Debate. Part of her agreed with Salazar in that something really should be done about the man. However there was another part, that part of her that still couldn't bring itself to take a life, that preferred the hiding option. He was becoming rather like her own, personal Voldemort. Perhaps she should find a way to arrange locking the pair of them up in a room together and see which one walked back out.

Something in her paused. When had she become brave enough to think of Voldemort by name without shuddering and in such a flippant light? Even though she hadn't grown up with him whispered about like some giant boggart, she had recognized the current of fear surrounding his memory very shortly after coming to Hogwarts that first year. She had read up as much as she could about him, finding it quite odd not to find his name printed in most books that mentioned his reign of terror.

Was this what it was like to grow up? Or had she just stopped seeing him as something terrifying the longer she found herself embroiled in this horror novel that had become her life?

"_Why don't you do to Trout what you did with Umbridge, not that I approve of your methods."_ And she didn't. She couldn't think of anything worse than losing your mind that way.

"Trout wouldn't fall for it like that ugly toad. And he'd be expecting me to attack him mentally. Mental is his bread and butter. I don't think there is a better telepath among the living currently, if there ever was. Few get so strong that they gain the power to instill fear and exert control like he did."

Hermione frowned, keeping her head bent over her book. _"Then why didn't he try to control you when you quit?"_

"_Because he can't get through the dead. Living telepaths find them unpleasant. I had one tell me that my mind felt completely alien, almost non-human, because of the constant din made by the Great Majority."_

She mulled this over. _"So he shouldn't be able to read my mind?"_

"_No, he shouldn't."_

She mulled it over some more. _"Salazar, would that hold true for a ligilimens?"_

"_A living one, yes. They could try to pierce your mind, but we would push them back out."_

Well, how about that? _"Too bad I can't loan you guys out to Harry. He said that Severus told him he didn't need his lessons any longer, but I don't believe him. And Severus won't tell me what happened."_

Kathryn made an angry hiss in the back of her mind. Hermione wondered what her biological father had done to piss her off this time when she heard Salazar chuckle.

"For a woman who prides herself on being cold and ruthless, you have an impressively broad streak of motherhood within you."

"_Oh, shut the fuck up!"_ This only made Salazar laugh harder. Hermione didn't understand it all. Truthfully didn't understand half of it, because try as she might Kathryn was still an enigma to her and Salazar played with his cards close to the vest. Both of them were quite Slytherin to the core.

Hermione shook herself from her musings and 'pushed' Sal and Kathy further into the back of her mind so she could mostly ignore what promised to be a spectacular argument. Her mother may have been at the top of her game in life, but Salazar was quickly learning how to push all of her buttons. Kathy-baiting was becoming one of her favorite past times, and one he said was quite safe considering that neither of them had a body.


	44. Chapter 44

"Where are you off to? The exams start first thing Monday!"

Hermione's thoughts echoed Harry's inquiry as she watched Sirius examining the fastenings on his traveling cloak. The handsome wizard gave the trio a slight smile before motioning them to take a seat. "Just have some errands to run for Dumbledore. Besides, I don't have to be here while you sit your OWLs. In fact, the ministry examiners would prefer it if all the teachers made themselves scarce, but that would hardly do. Who would protect the examiners from you lot?"

Ron gave a bark of laughter. Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry looked interested. "An errand? Is it… well…" he glanced around the room as though looking for potential spies before proceeding, "Order business?"

"Something of that nature." Sirius flicked his wand and the silver teapot on his desk lifted up to pour out tea into their cups. "I'm not supposed to tell you what, though. At least not right now, so I'll likely tell you all about it when I get back."

Hermione added cream to her tea as Ron helped himself to a lemon cake. Harry continued to frown at his godfather. "Is it dangerous?"

"Of course it's dangerous, Harry. This is war. But I'll be fine. This isn't my first time out, and I'll have Remus with me." Harry continued to look unconvinced. "You worry too much! Get that from your mum. Lily always did fret whenever one of us was off doing something for Dumbledore."

This was likely for good reason, but Hermione kept that thought to herself. Instead she put a warm scone into Harry's hand. His fingers closed over it without his actually paying attention. "I'm still worried over my DADA exam."

Sirius blinked and gave her an expression as though she had suddenly grown a second head. "_You're_ worried about a test? Whatever for! You're second in the class."

"It was never my strongest subject. Harry has always been better at defense than I."

Black gave her an amused smile and shook his head. "Hermione, you can't be the top at everything. Besides, just because you aren't the top student in defense doesn't mean you won't get the highest score doesn't mean you still won't get an 'O'. I'd be shocked if you don't shatter a few academic records."

Ron reached for another biscuit. "Besides, at least you're still better in defense than you were at divination." The reminder snapped Harry out of his doldrums and both boys gave a snicker as she glared at them.

"Oh, ha, ha, ha. Very amusing." Her derision only made them laugh harder. She couldn't help but fold her arms and glare at them, entertaining brief (and unlikely) visions of stringing them up by their shoelaces and torturing them for hours.

Sirius reached over to tweak one of her curls before resuming his packing. He was keeping it light, a good sign that he only planned to be gone a few days. "You'll be brilliant as always, Hermione. If Snape gave you one thing, it was plenty of brains. I don't know why we're bothering with OWLs for you, really. They should just chuck you in with the 7th years and let you take your NEWTs."

His belief in her bolstered her spirits, which remained relatively high throughout the examinations. She faltered on her patronus, it was ridiculously difficult for her to perform that particular charm correctly, but eventually got it out. She kind of wished that she hadn't. The massive three-headed dog startled the poor old wizard running the DADA examination that he toppled out of his chair and smacked his head soundly upon the stone floor of the great hall. Madam Pomfrey had to come down to revive him and ensure that he didn't have any serious head trauma. Hermione thought he muttered something about a dementor having to be insane to challenge that particular patronus as he got back onto his chair.

Harry and Ron both looked pale and shaken after they'd finished their Divination exams. She suspected that they hadn't done very well, and both knew it. History of Magic was another possibly failure for them, as well. It wasn't as though she hadn't tried to keep them up to speed on the topic; they just refused to put for their full effort.

She was just coming to rest in a chair at her favorite library table, grateful to be allowed to do some research on a topic of her own choosing for one, when Cedric arrived. His hair was sticking out from his head in about one thousand different directions, an indication that he had a stressful time of it as well. "Potions?"

"Arithmancy." He threw himself into the chair next to her own and wasted no time leaning over to rest his head against her shoulder. "Thank Merlin that was the last one. I think my brains are leaking from my ears."

She made a show of inspecting said ears. "No, all clean." She was rewarded with a grin and a kiss on the nose. "We're both done, then?"

"Looks that way. How do you think Harry and Ron managed?"

Hermione grimaced. "From the looks of them, not so brilliant. I'm certain Harry still wowed them in the DADA exam, and everyone seemed to do better in Potions without Severus swooping down on them every five minutes, but they looked worse for wear after a couple of subjects."

Cedric smirked. "History of Magic and Divination?"

"How'd you guess?" She stifled a chuckle that would have matched his. "So, what do seventh years do with the rest of the scholastic time after they finish with their NEWTs?"

Cedric sighed. "A combination of precious little and preparations to matriculate. There's a splendid dinner thrown for the graduating seventh years and their families. All hush-hush of course. I shouldn't even be telling you this."

"Your secret is safe with me." She bent her head down to rub noses with her one and only when the whisper-cold touch of a dead mind brushed itself into prominence in her psyche. Her eyes raised and she watched as one of the lesser-known school ghosts came gliding towards her at an unusual speed. Both she and Cedric straightened up as the pale figure moved nearer. When he was close enough, she spoke in a soft voice towards him. "What is it?"

"It is Young Potter. He appears to have had another of his visions regarding He Who Must Not Be Named." The voice was mostly inside her mind, the soft remains barely audible to Cedric and inaudible altogether to the rest of the students in the library. "He and some of the students are using a secret passage out of the school to leave the grounds."

"What?" Cedric's brow furrowed. "Do you know what it was about?" The ghost shook his head. Cedric looked even more concerned. It wouldn't do for students to leave the grounds in the best of times. It was insanity for them to do so with the Death Eaters on the move. "We'd best get after them."

Hermione was already securing her satchel. "I'll need to try and figure out what set him off. I think I know what passage they're using, but I don't dare go after them myself. They don't know about all I can do. If it were just Harry and Ron…"

Cedric nodded. "I understand. I can go after them. Just tell me where."

She told him how to get to the passageway beneath the statue of the one-eyed witch, figuring that they would have used the quickest and least hazardous one. Trying to get everyone through the gap in the Whomping Willow would have been tricky. Cedric kissed her cheek and hurried off while Hermione threw her thoughts out in an attempt to touch as many of the school ghosts as possible, hoping that someone might have heard them talking.

Her feet moved automatically as the chill in her head became more pronounced. Whispers and snippets of words slowly took shape and form. Several had seen the students hurrying through the corridors. They described them as tense yet determined, their faces drawn and jaws set. They all had been carrying their wands. Another reported that those students not in Gryffindor had waited outside the portrait hole for Harry, Ron and the other Gryffindor students who were part of Dumbledore's Army to return. There had been talk of needing to get to London, but uncertainty of how to go about it. Someone had mentioned 'borrowing' brooms from some of the older students. Someone knew where the Slytherin team kept theirs hidden.

Someone else could confirm that Harry and Ron had, indeed, broken into the Slytherin team's lockup and stolen the brooms.

"Idiots!" A couple of second years flinched at the sound of her voice and she realized that she had spoken aloud, and a bit too forcefully. She muttered a hasty apology before grabbing her satchel and getting up to disappear amongst the stacks of books in a little-used part of the library. No one was there to see her vanish into thin air, but Dumbledore certainly noticed it when she appeared in his office a second later. "The DA has left the grounds."

The headmaster paused. "Are you certain?" She nodded. "Do you know why?"

"Not really. Harry had a vision of some kind, but I don't know what it was. I do know it was about The Dark Lord, which means their running off like this is nothing short of lunacy." She rubbed her skull over the coldest part of her brain, even though it did little to alleviate the chill. "I'm still trying to gather information. I'm sorry, Professor. I should have had more eyes watching him. I knew he's been in a state more often than not this year."

Albus held up a placating hand. "Don't blame yourself, Miss Granger. It is not your job to keep tabs on Harry. No, that is my task and I fear that I have made some grave errors." He turned to one of the portraits. "Go and tell Severus I need him here at once." An aged wizard vanished from his frame. "Do you know where they've gone, Miss Granger?"

"London. They stole the Slytherin team's brooms to get there. I sent Cedric after them, to try and talk them out of it or to go with them if they wouldn't listen." She winced after it was said aloud. "I… hope you can look past his absence."

"We'll deal with that after we've set this to rights. I should be able to come up with a suitable reason given that your Mr. Diggory has been of age for more than a year." The heavy door to the office swung open to allow Severus entrance. "Ah, there you are. It appears that Mr. Potter's had another vision involving Voldemort, one that has resulted in his leaving the school grounds for London."

Severus glanced over at Hermione, then back to Albus. "Do we know what this vision entailed?"

Dumbledore looked to Hermione. "Not yet. Has anything been said to you? Any plans he has mentioned?"

"Not that I have been made privy to. It may be that he suspects I am not completely loyal, but I do not think so. The Dark Lord has always refrained from letting even his inner circle know all of his plans and schemes at once."

She felt like screaming. "Harry wouldn't have just run off for any little vision. There has to have been a rea…" She cut off, her head turning and her eyes staring blankly out the window as a new flurry of whispers and voices danced inside her mind. "He has Sirius." She blinked and shook her head before looking at Dumbledore. "Harry thinks he has Sirius. Have you heard from him since he left the castle?"

Albus advised he had not heard from Sirius the same time that Severus frowned at her. "How do you know that?"

"They just went over an old battle sight. One of the fallen heard him talking to Ron." She watched as Dumbledore sent Phineaus to check with Lupin at Grimmauld place, but she felt her father's eyes still boring into her. The weight of his stare brought her attention back to him. "What?" He said nothing. "What?!"

Severus tugged his robes and looked away from her. She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the Headmaster who was now grabbing his traveling cloak. "Voldemort must be attempting to lure Harry inside the Ministry of Magic. What he seeks is in the Department of Mysteries and only he and Harry can gain access to it."

"I'll meet him there." Hermione was stopped by a forceful 'no' coming from both men. "Why not? I can be there in seconds! I'll grab Harry and bring him back here. Maybe beat some sense into him while I'm at it." The last was added with a grumble.

Severus glared at her. "Outside of the fact that it would disclose your unusual skill set to Mr. Potter and the others, I am not about to let you run off into what is obviously a trap."

"Severus is correct, Miss Granger." Albus approached her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Hermione, it is of the utmost importance that Voldemort does not see you."

She frowned. "Doesn't see me? But why?"

"I cannot tell you that at this time, Miss Granger, but trust me when I tell you that it must be so. Right now he is willing to agree with your father that you cannot be brought to him because you are too close to Harry and to members of the Order, and that helps us to keep you safe. You are very nearly just as important to the coming war as Harry. Both of you must be protected."

She was important? As what, outside of perhaps gathering intel and keeping Harry alive? She opened her mouth to protest but Dumbledore spoke over her towards Snape. "Severus, I need to you to continue attempts at contacting Remus and Sirius. Also, contact the other Order members and tell them that they are needed at the Ministry."

"Yes, Headmaster." He stood aside as Albus approached the fireplace.

"And Miss Granger, I must insist that you remain here. Try not to let yourself worry. We will bring them back safely." The aged wizard tossed a handful of floo powder into the hearth and vanished in a rush of emerald green flames.

She gaped at the suddenly empty hearth. "I'm just supposed to stay here?! And do what? Twiddle my thumbs?!"

"For the time being you are to move out of the way." Severus gave her a firm but gentle push to the side. "I need to track down the rest of the Order."

"But I can help!"

He glared down at her. "The Headmaster made his wishes very clear, Hermione. Just because your idiotic friends are playing fast and loose with their lives by running off to face adult dark wizards doesn't mean that you should join them. For once prove that your are the most intelligent witch of your age and do as you are told."

Of course she had temporarily forgotten that this was Severus Snape. If he could have his way she would be shut up in the highest tower of the castle with an army of security trolls guarding every door and window. She gave him a narrow-eyed glare before turning on her heel.

"And use the door! Stop popping in and out of places all over the castle. You might be seen." She glared at him over her shoulder again before taking the door as ordered.

Other students quickly got out of her way as she stalked down the corridors. Everyone knew how to recognize when she was angry and everyone knew to stay well clear of her at times like these. She chewed on her own tongue until she had made it to the Room of Requirement, calling up her practice room and shutting the door before letting it all out.

"I don't believe it! What's the point in me having any abilities if they're just going to tuck me away in a corner?!" She balled up one fist and struck a punching bag forcefully. The heavy weight swung on its chain in response. "And what blood difference does it make if Voldemort sees my face? He already knows that I'm friends with Harry!" She hit it several more times, the hardware connecting the leather bag to the chain squeaking lightly.

The temperature of the room began to drop as several of the school's ghosts sailed through walls, drawn by the necroscope's state of agitation. "I _could_ help! I've already proven that I can hold my own in a fight. And I'm better qualified to do so than any of the others!"

The Bloody Baron dared to speak first. "All those who went with Mr. Potter were part of the DA. They have all been training for this throughout the year."

"But they've never been in a real fight. With the exception of Harry and Cedric, they've never actually been fired upon by someone intending to hurt them." She gave the bag a roundhouse kick, ignoring when the skirt of her uniform temporarily flipped up to a less-than-modest height. "That changes everything, knowing your life is in danger."

She stopped the bag from swinging by catching it in her hands. Leaning forward she placed her forehead on the cool leather, closing her eyes and trying to calm her racing thoughts. Sir Nicholas' voice drifted to her from somewhere off to the right. "Do we know that You-Know-Who has Professor Black?"

"Not that I can confirm at this time. I know he's not among the dead. I can tell that much easily enough." And she could. It was as Kathy told her; she was on some minute level aware of every death that took place throughout the world. But the deaths of those to whom she was closest, those deaths she would be aware of almost instantly. She would know if Sirius had been killed. Just like she had known when Cedric had died; she just hadn't known enough to recognize it at the time.

Her heart contracted. Everything about that horrible night came rushing back on her. The crushing, oppressive feeling of sorrow like she would never be happy again. The need to cry or to scream or to do both. Even now the pain could be remembered as though it were as fresh as the night Cedric had died.

"I can't do this." She swallowed. "Not again." She pushed away from the punching back, her eyes meeting Nick's. "I can't lose him again."

There was a ripple of unease through the now two dozen ghosts in the room. Her breath made puffs of steam in the cold air, but she didn't register the chill. "I have to go there."

"Professor Dumbledore and your father want you to stay put." She didn't bother to check who said it. "Trust them to get the students back safely."

"I won't stay here and sit on my hands like a good little girl!"

"_I have to agree with your father on this one."_

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Did I _even_ ask your opinion on this?!"

Kathryn's voice was deceptively calm. _ "It's too dangerous."_

"Oh, don't even start with me about dangerous. I've read your file. You would have been the first one to jump in. You didn't give a damn about 'continuing the family line' before I came into the picture. You just did what you wanted." Hermione ignored the worried glances the ghosts gave one another as she continued to rant against her mother. "And you have no business telling me what I can and cannot do! You take off for weeks at a time, don't say a thing, then show up to boss me around when it suits you?! To hell with that!"

"_Did I say that I was going to stop you?" _Hermione stilled, blinking at nothing. _"I merely said that it's too dangerous and that I agreed with your father. Granted, my agreeing with Severus may very well be one of the signs of the Apocolypse, but he's right. Now, what's your plan?"_

Hermione looked at the ghosts who were all watching her with mixed expressions of worry and sympathy. Holding up a single finger to indicate that they should give her a moment, she turned away from them. _"You're going to let me go?"_

"_Might as well. It's not like you're going to listen to me. Besides, I was about your age when I started being a real hothead. What do you think, Sal?"_

"_I may not be the best authority in this. In my lifetime the boys younger than Hermione went to war and the girls were married and trying to start families. In these modern times parents tend to try to keep their offspring children for far longer than what I was used to."_

"_That means he thinks you're old enough as well. Are you going like that or are you going to get your gear?"_

Her heart was racing and she almost stepped into the continuum right then, but paused to turn around and face the throng of ghosts. "Tell no one." Nick opened his mouth to protest but she held up a silencing hand. "I mean it. No one." She didn't give them time to respond, but 'popped' back up to her room. Kathryn's voice started up again immediately.

_"You'll want your clothing to allow for ease of movement while not being loose enough to get caught on things. Grab a pair of the jeans with the kick panels in the crotch, the boot-cut ones. That way you can wear the black boots with the steel toes. The tread on them will be as good as trainers, but your feet will be protected if you have to kick anything, and they're roomy enough for the boot sheaths. One in each boot with a throwing knife in each."_

She stripped out of her robes, skirt and jumper as she moved, using her feet to take off her Mary Janes as she pulled her change of clothes out of her wardrobe. She moved quickly while at the same time trying to tell herself to keep her head on straight. _"Double wands, of course. Anything else?"_

_"The sai. Anything else would be too long and might get in the way. And pull your hair back."_

The tee shirt she grabbed was black and long-sleeved. She pulled it on before sitting down on her bed to pull on the boots and lace them up. Reaching over into the drawer of her bedside table she snagged a couple of elastic bands and caught them between her teeth as her fingers started to twist her hair into a quick but tight braid.

_"Now, remember to keep your head about you at all times. And keep connected to the Great Majority. The world is big, but people die everywhere. You have access to eyes and ears almost anywhere you go and your presence will allow Them to be able to help you in that way. You're the catalyst that allows them to be aware of the living world. Use that to your advantage and it is truly like having eyes in the back of your head."_

_"And don't be afraid to be lethal."_ Salazar's voice was reminiscent of a war hero or old general. _"These wizards will be trying to kill you and your friends. You mustn't be squeamish about killing them."_

She fastened off the end of her braid. _"What happens when I'm the one who kills the person?_" Kathy's voice was a soft 'chuckle'.

_"You mean after they're dead and can hear you? They usually don't stay angry for long. The exceptions to that rule were usually completely insane or had such hatred towards me before they died that no amount of time would have changed it. You might have some rough spots from these Death Eaters but once they've been dead for a while they'll realize that their blood-borne bigotry had no real basis. And you need to hurry. Your roomies are on their way up._"

She grabbed the sai, knives, wands and sheaths quickly, ducking into the Continuum just before Parvati and Lavender came in. In the peculiar weightlessness of the Continuum she turned heels over head to secure the sheaths and knives into her boots, then the sai and their sheaths under her shirt. _"Flexible."_

_"Easy to do in here."_ She righted herself, at least she thought she was right side up again, and looked around. Now to navigate her way to London, which wasn't truly all that difficult. Time and space meant little here and soon she was where she needed to be. Hermione was about to open a portal when Kathy stopped her.

_"For a moment, forget that you're irrevocably in love with the boy and think rationally. Look where your friends are. Their threads aren't all together."_ She was right. Hermione examined the different threads that corresponded to the other students. Her fingers reached out to skim over them lightly. Harry. Cedric. Ron. Luna. Ginny. Neville. All six were there. But they weren't together. They had split up and there were other threads here as well. Her fingers skimmed over them curiously.

_"Lucius Malfoy, little surprise there. Bellatrix and Radolphus LeStrange as well. I hope Neville can keep his head on straight. McNair, Dolohov and this one is Rabastan."_ She frowned._ "I've only ever met Lucius. How can I tell the others?"_

_"Yet another mystery of the continuum. Mobius did not create it, he only discovered it and not even he knew all its intricacies and secrets. But if you can navigate the continuum then you can know a person's identity just by touching the thread."_

She lingered over Cedric's thread a heartbeat longer than was needed. According to this, he was not in the most pressing danger. Ron's thread was flickering wildly. He was in danger at that precise moment, so she chose him first. Summoning a door, she stepped through into a room that held a tank filled with brains, long ribbons of memory streaming from them. Ron was writhing on the floor, one of the brains wrapped around him tightly. She sent a severing charm his way to cut him free, and then blasted aside the attacking organ.

Ron scrambled to his feet, clutching his wand tightly. "Hermione? Ho… how did you get here?"

"Never mind that, now. The Order is on their way. Get the others and get up top."

"Harry's out there! The Death Eaters are after him! There's some prophecy…"

"I'll get Harry! You get the others and get back to the surface." He gaped at her, his brow creased. "Go, Ron!" She gave him a shove for good measure before heading to a door on the other side of the room.

_"Remember to be out of his sight before you duck back in."_ She didn't really need the reminder, but she didn't have time to respond. The door was shut before she slipped back inside the continuum. A quick review of Ron's thread revealed that he seemed to be listening to her. At least his thread was moving towards the other members of the DA. Harry and Cedric, however, seemed to be moving further away. Another thread took a sharp turn to move towards them. She recognized it immediately as McNair's.

_Oh, no you don't._

She summoned a door and stepped out just as he moved past the point in the corridor. Aiming for the middle of his back she shot out a stunning hex. The red light illuminated the blackness but it did not give McNair enough warning that he could defend himself from the unexpected attack. She watched him fall just a hairsbreadth before she sensed danger from behind. Her second wand was up and sending another stunning hex behind her just as her first wand flick around to cast a shield charm for self-defense. The would-be attacker was busy defending himself from her hex as she stepped back through and into the Continuum.

On a subconscious level she knew that it had been the 'eyes in the back of her head' feeling from one of the dead within the Ministry that had alerted her to the presence of the second Death Eater, but she did not take time to dwell on this as she twisted gracefully within the Continuum so that when she summoned the next door she was quite a bit above his head. She sent another stunner at him as she was in free fall, just barely having enough time to open another door before she hit bottom.

_"Nice, but any closer and you would have been kissing tile."_

_"I noticed that."_

_"Well, on the bright side, your parents are dentists. They could probably fix any teeth you'd broken on the floor."_

_"Ha-ha."_

_"She's being too careful."_ Salazar appeared to be watching all of this with a detached interest. _"Stunning hexes are all well and good, but the only person these cretins want to keep alive is Potter. Stop holding back. I know you know stronger spells. I taught you most of them myself."_

_"He does have a point. They wouldn't spare you. Don't bother sparing them."_

She wasn't comfortable with the idea of taking a life, but she knew they were right in their concerns. She checked the threads of the two downed Death Eaters, mentally checking McNair and Dolohov off her list of problems. She would have felt better if at least one of them had been a LeStrange.

Her eyes flicked over to the other DA members. Ron had met back up with Ginny, Luna and Neville, though it didn't look as though they were back up top. _"You would think at least the Ravenclaw would be bright enough to do as they were told."_

Kathy gave a bark of laughter. _"You're assuming that Ronald relayed your suggestions. I'd be more concerned about the company they're about to run into, were I you."_

She was right, of course. It looked as though a few more Death Eaters had shown up, or perhaps they just hadn't been close enough to the others for her to notice before. At the moment, she didn't have the time to figure out which. Instead, she opened a door that put her in front of the Death Eaters and well away from the DA members. If nothing else she had the element of surprise because none of the Death Eaters had been expecting a teenaged witch to suddenly pop out of nowhere. The wand in her off hand threw was used to protect herself while she sent a far more severe version of a severing charm at one of the Death Eaters. She steeled herself and reminded herself not to buckle as his wand arm was detached cleanly at the elbow. His scream was still ringing in her ears as she ducked back inside the Continuum.

She barely registered Salazar's 'good show!' as she stepped back out of the Continuum and immobilized the now armless Death Eater while sending a retching hex at another. She felt a curse just miss her ear as she danced back out of the corporeal world once more. Three more jaunts out and Ron and the others would come across three very incapacitated Death Eaters when they finally rounded the corner.

_"That was close."_ Her heart was still hammering in her chest. _"I think I almost lost an ear."_

_"Almost, but you didn't. And an excellent round of spell work! We could have used someone like you on the battlefield in my day. A few goblin rebellions would have been squashed early on with you on our side."_

Kathy gave a mental snort. _"You're forgetting who you are talking to, Sal. Hermione probably felt sorry for the goblins and believed they were ill-treated."_

_"I'll refrain from entering into this debate until after we get everyone to safety."_ Her eyes skimmed the threads again. More bright strands were moving into place. She brushed fingers over them and felt relief._ "Sirius, Remus, Moody, Tonks and Kingsley. The Order is here."_

_"About time."_

Hermione watched the threads shift and move until they were closer to Ron and the others, then reaching towards Cedric and Harry. The DA and the Order were converging, but so were the remaining Death Eaters. She swallowed and sternly reminded herself not to speak aloud within the Continuum. Her fingers tightened on her wands as she took note of who was where.

The threads were growing so close together that they were almost forming a knot. Lines flickered and steadied as people danced in and out of 'mortal danger'. "I can't see enough!" The threads flickered more often than not, on both sides. She reached out and ran her fingers over them lightly to keep track of who was who, not an easy task with the constant motion. Her pinky brushed up against Bellatrix LeStrange and her stomach knotted.

She couldn't stay in here and do nothing! Not with those lunatics so close to Cedric and the others. In the ruckus of the battle it was unlikely that anyone would have time to question how she had gotten there.

She summoned up a door, but frowned as she saw it. Instead of the usual clean lines, it was wavering and apparently unstable. _"That's odd."_

_"Yes, it is. Shut it and try again."_

She dismissed the door and called up a new one. Again the outline was all wonky. "_Why is it doing that?"_

_"I have no idea, but something tells me you shouldn't use that door. Find another point of entry elsewhere."_

She was about to agree when she saw Bellatrix' thread start to glow just a bit brighter and several other threads to flicker. Danger was imminent and there was no way for her to tell which person was the intended target. Hermione ignored her misgivings about the misshapen door and threw herself forward.

She didn't have enough time to regret her mistake.

~***~

The battle was raging. Cedric was trying to keep himself between Harry and any would-be attackers, but it wasn't easy. Sirius was laughing as he fought, cocky and arrogant and seemingly enjoying himself, which did little to impress upon Harry just how dangerous the current situation truly was.

Somehow the other students had made it to the large room with the stone archway in its center. The faint whispers that seemed to come from the opening in the stone made him feel uneasy. It was like cold hands tugging at him, trying to pull him in and back to a place he had no desire to be. What place, exactly, he couldn't quite put his finger on, but he wasn't in a position to dwell on it at that moment.

Order members and DA members alike threw hexes and charms. The Order were better schooled in combative magics, of course, but the students weren't helpless, and combined they outnumbered the Death Eaters. All they had to do was to hold on until the Ministry arrived. Let the Aurors see first hand that the Death Eaters were on the move again and Harry and he would be vindicated at last.

It happened so suddenly. One minute they were all fighting, and the next the cavernous room was filled with the most horrific screaming. It didn't sound quite human and seemed to echo from every surface. That alone would not have stopped the fighting, but barely a fraction of a second after the screaming started, the stone archway in the center of the room seemed to respond. Freezing cold erupted from it, filling the room in the space of a breath so that it felt as though everyone's blood was chilling in their veins.

The screams were joined by ghostly, otherworldly wailing. Even the Death Eaters ceased fighting to cover their ears. Cedric squinted against the pain and searched for a source of the noise, but as his eyes moved over the room, he felt his heart stop.

Hermione, his Hermione, was there. Bellatrix was scrambling away from her, trying to fight past the cold and the pain they all felt. Hermione's back was bowed to a seemingly impossible degree and she was still screaming. His Hermione had been the original source of the scream, and she was still screaming.

In spite of the aching in his joint that the cold was now causing, and in spite of the aching in his head from the howls, Cedric threw himself forward and scrambled to the fallen witch. He grabbed her, pulling her close to him. "Hermione! Hermione I've got you!"

She stopped screaming, but it was likely because she had run out of air or perhaps because she was past the point of being able to vocalize her pain any longer. Her breathing was now in shallow gasps that couldn't possibly be enough to sustain her. Cedric watched in horror as her eyes rolled back into her head and her body began to jerk with convulsions.

Suddenly it occurred to him that his knowledge of healing spells was sorely lacking. He could think of nothing to help her other than to take his wand and slip it between her teeth to keep her from biting down on her own tongue. "I need help over here!" He tried to hold her close in spite of her body's violent movements. "Please! Someone help!"

His voice was swallowed by the howling in the room. Cedric watched as the battle was broken up by the chaos that had come upon them so suddenly. The Death Eaters were fleeing the room, much of the Order in pursuit. He could do little but hold Hermione to him and pray that she returned to herself.


	45. Chapter 45

_September 1__st__, 1991_

_"What do you mean you're in London? We have a book release in three days!"_

_Kathy smiled as she walked along the crowded pathways leading towards Kings Cross Station. "Which will do just fine without me. That's the whole idea of having Alice. She gets paid very well to be me."_

_"What about interviews?"_

_"Hold them off until I get back, or tell her to wing it. Relax, Marty. Just have her smile and sign her name and we'll be fine." She saw an increase in the number of families that didn't quite 'fit'. "I've got to let you go, now. I'll call you when I get back state side." She disconnected the call mid-squawk, indulging that part of her that liked to tweak her manager's temper knowing than he would never cut her loose. Besides, she doubted that the signal would have stayed with her on the platform._

_People hurried back and forth to their platforms while a few made their way to a brick partition between platforms nine and ten. Kathy was the only one who stepped off in a completely different direction. Her feet carried her into a shadowed area, away from prying eyes so that no one saw her vanish. A second later she emerged onto platform nine and three-quarters. Given the type of crowd present, no one paid her the slightest heed._

_She slipped her hands into the pockets of the long leather trench coat she wore and leaned back against the rough bricks of the wall. Children and their parents bustled back and forth on the platform, loading heavy trunks onto a train with a scarlet steam engine. Older children were reuniting with friends they most likely hadn't seen over the summer holiday. Younger children were torn between excitement and nervousness._

_And then she saw them. Hannah was clearly trying to choke back tears as she fussed over the young child who was watching Jacob load her trunk onto the train. She tried to smooth out Hermione's unmanageable hair and Kathy smiled. It took her years of practice to learn how to control the frizz and wild curls. It wasn't something that a student would likely have time to fuss with._

_"Did you ever consider that perhaps she would benefit by having you in her life?"_

_Her hand snapped out of her pocket and to where a blade was hidden at her hip. She looked up at the tall, aged man who had seemed to have appeared out of nowhere only a couple of feet from her. Her eyes darted around then to see who might be watching. The stranger chuckled. "No one will notice us, Kathryn. I have made certain of that."_

_"Who the fuck are you, then?"_

_Bright, blue eyes twinkled from behind half-moon spectacles. "I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He gave her a slight, respectful nod. "I don't usually come to the station to watch the students board, but I have a couple of very interesting additions this year and wanted to be certain that they made it to the train safely."_

_His eyes swept out over the crowded platform as he continued. "One is a boy who survived a vicious attack meant to kill him when he was just a baby. He now has a terrible weight on his shoulders, far more than anyone boy of eleven should have to bear. The other, well, you know her very well." His eyes came to rest on Hermione and her parents. Kathy felt her own being pulled towards them as well. "At least, you know her in your own way."_

_Kathy's fingers tightened around the hilt of her knife. "I've taken great pains to hide my relationship to her. Only a handful of people know."_

_"Of that I am well aware, Kathryn. I don't wholly agree with your actions, but it is not my place to alter them. However I still must ask why you are so sure that she is better off not knowing you. Could you not protect her more easily if you were part of their lives?"_

_She could usually trust her gut, and at the moment her gut was telling her this man was not a threat. Her fingers loosened their grip, but remained at the hilt of her knife. "Knowing me would bring all manner of troubles down on her head. Besides, having two mothers in her life would only serve to confuse her."_

_"So instead you keep her wrapped up in a web of lies and secrets." His tone was disapproving. "It doesn't seem fair to her, or to Severus."_

_"So you know about him, too."_

_Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, I know about him as well."_

_There was something in his voice that made her narrow her gaze. "Is this going to be a problem? I believe there are other schools. A phone call from me and her family can move her."_

_He shook his head. "No, it will not be a problem. I am willing to let things unfold, but I must ask that you… consider all that you have done, Kathryn. Why were you so certain that you could not remain with Severus? Knowing that he was going to be a father could have changed everything."_

_She gave a chuff. "It would have, and therein lay the problem." She relaxed back against the bricks again. "In spite of the unsavory lot he consorted with on a regular basis, he would have tried to break free from them." She grimaced. "Worse, he would have insisted on the whole marriage thing."_

_"And you think that it wouldn't have worked."_

_"Me? In a tidy little cottage with flower garden and a fence with a kissing gate? Cherub cheeked little toddler clutching at my apron strings and waiting for my husband the wizard to come home after a long day of whatever it was he ended up doing for a living? It's a pretty picture, but it's a complete fantasy. We aren't nice people, Severus and I. We're cold, selfish and uncaring. We would have made one another miserable and thus made her miserable."_

_She nodded towards Hermione with her chin. Jacob was hugging her tightly. "Look at her. She's happy. I knew Hannah and Jacob. Knew the measure of who they are and I knew they can't have children of their own. They're the perfect parents. A much better choice than Severus or myself. We could have never made her that happy."_

_"And I think that you are selling yourself short." She looked at him questioningly. "What makes you so certain that you are a bad person? That Severus is a bad person? Is a person only good if they live a happy and contented life, showing charity to their neighbors and always smiling? Some of Voldemort's followers, those unsavory types with whom Severus consorted with when you were together, are hailed as great humanitarians in our world. Does that make them better than you, who have sacrificed so much for the sake of Queen and Country… and for one little girl who inherited so many enemies just by being born?"_

_"You're romanticizing me. Making me out to be the hero."_

_"Aren't you?"_

_"Not even close." She knew who she was. What she was. "I'm one of the monsters."_

_Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "I think, Kathy, that you are long overdue for a reconnection with some of your few true friends. Don't hurry back to America so quickly. Take a stroll through London. Visit your old friend Mao and reminisce over some of his excellent tea. Ask him what he thinks about you being one of the monsters."_

_She looked back towards the train. Hermione was leaning out of one of the windows, waving farewell to her parents as she embarked on her new and exciting journey. "Mao is hardly an unbiased person in this. He thinks I'm one of the angels."_

_Dumbledore did not respond. She turned her head and blinked, surprised to find that he was no longer by her side. She looked around but could not find the flamboyantly dressed wizard anywhere amongst the crowd._

~***~

"You're still not mad at us, are you Diggory?"

"You drugged me."

"Only for your own good. We swear."

"And it worked, didn't it?"

"Yeah, you made the team!"

Cedric looked up from his study of the floor tiles to glare at the Weasley Twins. "Did it ever cross your mind that perhaps I wasn't interested in attending tryouts?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "So you said. You weren't in your right mind, Mate."

"Yeah, you were all wound up, and for good reason."

"If it were our girl lying in there, we wouldn't want to leave either, but think about Hermione."

George nodded. "Exactly! How do you think she'd feel when she woke up and found that you had blown off the chance of a lifetime because you had shackled yourself to her bedside."

"And it wasn't anything _dangerous_. Just a little calming draft to take your mind off your worries long enough to impress the owners."

"And now they expect me to report to training by Monday! That's four days!" Cedric pulled his fingers through his hair. "I want to be here when she wakes up."

The twins flanked him on either side. Fred put a hand on his back while George offered him a cup of tea. "We understand that, Mate. We really do. But you should know your girl well enough that if you mess this up because you're worried about her, she's only going to blame herself."

"Fred's right, Ced. We're just trying to help."

"I know. In your own warped, demented way." And they were. "Shouldn't you two be minding that shop of yours?"

"Hired a right clever shop girl last week." Fred was grinning. "We can spare a couple of hours without the place blowing up."

"We wanted to see if there'd been any change." George's expression changed to one of hope. "Has there?"

"Not yet. She's stopped screaming whenever they try to take her off the pain relieving potions. Now she just… whimpers." Had it been this hard for her when he had come back from the killing curse? Her screams seemed to peel the skin from his bones, they cut him that deeply. "They still don't know what Bellatrix did to her."

"If I ever get my hands on that bitch." George smacked his fist into his opposite hand. "I'll make it slow, too."

Fred agreed. "Get in line. We might have to wrestle Professor Snape for it."

Cedric gave a mirthless chuckle. "I'd be more afraid of Mr. Granger. He mentioned something about major dental surgery. It didn't sound pleasant." And this had not been the type of circumstance under which he would have preferred to meet his girlfriend's parents. He had hoped for something more relaxed. Perhaps a visit after classes had ended for the term and before Quidditch season started.

"You met her parents? Big move, that. They're bound to be loads nicer than Snape."

"We haven't spoken much. They're understandably upset."

"Yeah, I can see where your daughter being unconscious for going on three weeks could be upsetting. Drink your tea, Mate. Fred and me can stay a bit longer. Just in case you need someone to yell at."

"Yeah, wouldn't do to go yelling at your potential future in-laws. Not a good way to start off your relationship.

~***~

"Damn!" Evangeline slammed the receiver down hard enough that it sounded as though the plastic might have cracked. "Missed our window again."

Michael sighed and closed the file in his hands. "By how much?"

"We won't know until the medical examiner gets done with the body, but the rough guess is that she couldn't have been gone more than half an hour. Hung herself." Dr. Stroud braced her hands on her desk. "That's the third one."

Turner swallowed. "I spoke to Jacob Granger."

"Any change?"

"No. She's still unconscious. It's hard to get any accurate information out of him because he isn't aware that we know Hermione is a witch. And of course the Grangers don't know what else she can do."

"What about her birth father?"

"Wizards don't exactly make a practice of carrying mobiles, and the Grangers might get suspicious if I ask them to get me in touch with him."

"We may not have a choice." She stood up straight and ran a hand through her hair. "Three dead by suicide so far, and another dozen under sedation just so they can cope. And those are just the ones the spotters have been able to identify. Do we even know what's really going on?"

Michael took a breath. "We have a working theory." The director turned to him expectantly. "We believe that this may not be unprecedented, but that it didn't used to be this obvious. It's very likely that the Keoghs, all of them, were of a greater benefit to the living then they realized."

He had her attention. Evangeline folded her arms and waited. "Go on."

Michael picked up another file, this one a bit thicker than the sparse information they had obtained on the latest victim. "The records for Harry Keogh, the first of the bloodline, isn't entirely complete, but we do believe that his mother was a natural medium. She had some small ability to communicate with the dead, but comparing her to her son would have been like… comparing a match flame to a forest fire. Since psychic abilities are usually based in genetics, the most likely explanation for Harry was that this trait was passed on from his mother, but that it mutated wildly into the type of power that he possessed. That mutated trait became the dominant version, which he passed on to Harry Jr., who then passed it on to Kathryn and eventually to Hermione."

"I understand the basic principals of genetics, Michael. How does this explain three dead talents who until recently didn't even register?"

"It makes sense if you consider a medium as something akin to a telephone. Or more accurately, consider mediums like the early days of the telephone networks. Spotty. Not all interconnected. Just random coverage here and there. Then, out of nowhere, comes Harry Keogh who is like… a next generation communications super satellite, capable of carrying all the traffic. All of the signals route through him, taking the burden off the older, less reliable networks."

Evangeline shook her head. "And you're coming to this conclusion… how?"

"Based on the numbers and trends." He opened the file to another page and approached her desk. "There have always been people who claimed to speak to the dead. Many were charlatans, and more than a few were insane, but we know better than anyone that several of them likely were hearing and speaking to the dead. Throughout recorded history there are tales of people who even went so far as to mutilate or kill themselves to try and escape the voices in their heads. Again, some were truly insane, but it is very likely that some of them were hearing voices that were there, but that only they could detect because they had an ability that allowed them to do so.

"Now, this is important because only an organization like ours would bother tracking such a thing, but there is a recordable decline in such suicides and claims of medium ability from the time that Harry Keogh realized his abilities as a child and over the course of time when he was learning his abilities. He was… solidifying the network, even though I doubt he was aware of it."

"It could just be coincidence."

"Could be, but look at these other records." He turned to another page. "Here, this is the time when Harry left our world and traveled to the Source World. When he went looking for his son. There was an increase in the same type of thing we're seeing now. Things started to return to normal, however, when he returned here for a time. They went back up after he was infected by a Source World-type vampire and went back there, but started to go back down around the same time that Kathryn was born."

Stroud compared the numbers closely. "Kathryn was dead a good three months or more before Hermione supposedly figured out those equations. There's no increase during that time."

"Ah, but Harry was 'locked up' just like she was the first time he came back from the Source World. Kathy's conception took place the time it did thanks to a bit of time traveling by her father, but in real time he was already infected as well and felt the need to ensure his father was no longer a threat to him. The dead could still talk to Harry; he just couldn't talk to him. He was still gifted."

"And they could still route themselves through him." Evangeline felt a spark of hope. "We're certain that the girl is still alive."

"According to the Grangers she is, just in a 'private hospital' and in a comatose state. But a simple coma wouldn't cause this type of chaos. Something has to be blocking the signal, for lack of a better explanation."

"We need to find out what happened to her, and if there's a way to fix it. I don't want any more suicides." She closed the file and handed it back to him. "Find Snape. Find out what the hell happened."

"Yes, Ma'am."

She watched him almost reach the door before she spoke again. "Michael." He turned around, his expression inquiring. "If she wakes up and things return to normal… we'll have a bigger decision to make."

"What's that?"

"Whether or not to tell a sixteen-year-old child that the mental and physical well-being of people with gifts rather close to her own depends on her continued good health and on her settling down to start a family of her own one day."

Turner nodded. "Kathy used to complain about how the dead were always bitching at her to slow down and start a family. Or to just have a child or two. She said that it made her feel as though they were trying to reduce her to the status of a brood mare. I think she found it insulting."

"Do you think they knew how she affected the living or were they just interested in themselves?"

He gave her a crooked smile. "My gift only works on the living. I'm not wired properly for guessing what dead people think." He tapped the file against one hand. "I have to wonder something, though."

"What would that be?"

"Would Trout be so set on killing her if he knew that doing so would cost others so much?"

"Trout is a mad man, Michael. Of course he would."


	46. Chapter 46

_March 12__th__, 1979_

Kathy was lying.

Hanna had always been able to tell when someone was lying to her. It irritated Jacob to no end because it meant that he could rarely surprise her with anything. Not that he didn't still try, but she could always tell when he was up to something and always knew when he tried to fabricate a cover story to hide some trinket or gift he'd snuck around to purchase for her.

The question she posed to herself now was whether or not to tell Jacob that Kathy was lying. If she did, Jacob would insist that her old friend come clean and get the father's blessing regarding the adoption as well. And if the father refused to sign away his rights as a parent, then this chance to have a child would vanish.

"Kathryn." Jacob shook his head in resignation.

"What? You know I'm not one for long relationships. It was New Years and I was enjoying myself along with half of London. I don't remember much outside he had black hair and was hung like a horse. I don't know which hurt worse; my hangover or my nethers when I tried to walk the next day."

"Oh for God's sake!" Jacob had never really been able to wrap his mind around Kathy's less-than-ladylike mannerisms.

"How did you end up married to such a prisspot, Han? I knew I should've pulled you along with me more often when we were at University. We could've found you a bloke with a bit more roughness about the edges."

"Be nice, Kathy." Hannah rubbed Jacob's knee under the table, sending her old schoolmate a warning look.

"I am being nice. You know I love you, Jacob. It's just the jealousy talking."

Her husband gave a bark of laughter. "I'd be terrified if I thought that was true."

Kathy blinked. "Am I that scary?"

"Yes!" It was meant to be humorous, but the humor faded quickly. "Are you certain about this, Kathy? It's a big step." Jacob's eyes were serious. He took Hannah's hand in his own under the table, their fingers interlacing.

"Dead sure, Jacob." She shook her head. "I am the world's worst candidate for motherhood, and I know that you two… well…" Kathy turned the delicate china cup on its saucer. "I just thought that it'd be a way to take all parties into consideration. The baby gets a good family and I don't have to deal with the guilt of having had an abortion."

Hannah couldn't help herself. She shook her head. "That always confused me about you."

"What?"

"Your stance on abortion. Your so forward-thinking about everything else, but you draw the line at terminating a pregnancy."

"Hey, the kid's got the right to screw up her own life like the rest of us, but she can only do that if she has the chance to be born." Kathryn gave a shrug. "Are you going to complain?"

Jacob's fingers tightened around hers under the table. "Of course not, Kathryn. We just… we just want to be certain that _you're _sure this is the right thing for you. If… if it's just a matter of finances or even just a lack of familial support, Hannah and I are more than willing to be there for you in any capacity. We've known you for years. You stood up for us at our wedding even."

"That's generous of you, considering we haven't spoken since graduation." Kathy smiled across the table, but there was a sadness in her smile. "I'm certain this is the right thing. I don't want to keep the baby, Jacob. I have no place in my life for a child."

And again, Kathy was lying. And against her better judgment, Hannah did not call her on it.

~***~

"I should have called you on it."

Hannah brushed a stray curl from Hermione's face. She looked as though she was only sleeping and could awaken at any second. Her baby. Her angel. Her precious little witch. How close she was to losing her.

"And I should have pressed _you_ for more answers. I should have asked questions." And she should have. She could always tell when someone was lying to her, but they had to speak in order for her to tell. Omissions were harder. If she had pushed Hermione for more information about the magical world, she might have known about the dangers there. She might have been told about wizards who despised her girl for what they saw as impure blood and about a power-hungry madman bent on destruction and domination.

And perhaps then she could have found some way to protect her child so that a young girl of sixteen didn't run headfirst into battle.

"You were always such a brave little thing. You must have gotten that from Kathryn." She smoothed out the bed sheet with shaking hands. "I wish she had agreed to have some interaction with you while you were growing up. I think you would have liked her. She was so… fearless. Adventurous. She always had more courage than I. And she was very tough. She would have been so proud of you. You stood up for what you thought was right. Looked the monster right in its eye and didn't flinch. I never knew such passion was genetic."

She looked up and around the little room. It was sterile and white, like any muggle hospital, but blissfully free from the smell and antiseptic. And they allowed fresh flowers. It helped when they could cast a little charm to keep the pollens at bay. But it was still a hospital room, and Hermione had been here far too long for comfort.

"Your headmaster was here this morning. He said that you will still be a prefect, in spite of your actions. He also seemed very convinced that you will be well enough to attend classes in the fall. Anyone else would have just been saying that to be comforting, but he was speaking with surprising confidence. I was standing right there before him when he told the healers that they would be able to discharge you soon." She leaned in a bit, forcing a little smile and pitching her voice as though sharing a great confidence. "He wasn't lying."

Her eyes stared at her daughter's sleeping face for a bit longer before she had to get up from her chair. She meandered over to the wide windowsill where the flowers and cards were kept. She straightened them unnecessarily. "And you could have told your father and I that you had a sweetheart. One about whom you were so serious at least. I would be concerned, but I understand that he has matriculated this term, so it's not as though he'll be at school with you for another year. Those troublemakers of Molly's drug him off for tryouts last week. He made it. I won't pretend to understand any more about Quidditch than I do about rugby, but I do comprehend that it's a big deal."

She turned away from the flowers once she was done and moved over to straighten the pile of abandoned magazines and newspapers left over from when Jacob and Mr. Weasley had been there that morning. "He seems quite taken with you, your Cedric. More so than your father or Severus would like. I trust you'll remember to tell me if you become engaged. You're our only child. I would like to see you married off in a proper ceremony."

"I would hope that she was also too young for such things by muggle standards."

Hannah turned quickly on the spot. Severus was standing just inside the door, having entered with his usual soundless nature. "Oh. I wasn't expecting you today."

"I come every day, Mrs. Granger."

"Hannah, please."

He inclined his head slightly. "As you wish." His robes drifted slightly in the currents made as he moved towards Hermione's bed. "There has been no change." It was not a question.

"No. Not yet at any rate." Hannah put the newspapers down on the small table situated between two chairs. "But she is not getting any worse. The healers say that they're not certain why she won't wake up, but your Professor Dumbledore seems convinced it should happen soon."

"Then it most likely will. He has an annoying habit of being right."

"I am unlikely to complain if that should prove this time."

"I will have to agree with you on that point." Severus stared down at the unconscious girl, his black eyes deep and unreadable. Hannah felt the urge to comfort him, but at the same time he gave off an air that clearly said he did not wish to be bothered.

"I suppose this can't be easy for you. Any of it. Thank you for being so… civil regarding Hermione."

"I am hardly in a position to be otherwise, Hannah. Even our laws would not reclaim my rights as her father. You and Jacob are being most generous in welcoming me as you have done."

_Truth_.

"Severus, I need to know something."

He turned to face her, one brow arched. "What is it?"

"Did you know about this… whatever this thing is that Hermione got caught up in? These… people. The ones that Professor Dumbledore says are trying to start a war in the magical world."

He took a breath, flexing his shoulders slightly as if weighing his response. "Yes, I did. The signs of their rising have been there for some time."

_Truth._

"And Hermione's involvement?"

He hesitated again. "I had my suspicions. I knew she was aware of the different sides and the key players in each. I knew she had contact with those who are trying to man a defense against the coming darkness." He sighed. "And I knew that eventually her headstrong nature would lead her into the fight, though I had hoped to keep her reigned in a bit longer."

_Truth. Mostly._

"Is there anything else that I need to know?"

Severus met her gaze with unwavering solemnity. "Most likely there is quite a bit that, as her mother, you have the need to know. Even the right to know. Unfortunately, they are also things that I cannot tell you, if only for your own safety."

_Very much the truth._

Severus gave a sharp intake of breath, his right hand moving reflexively to the lower half of his left arm. He made a move as though to lift his sleeve, but abandoned the action before he could begin.

"Is something wrong?" A heart attack, perhaps, though he was gripping the wrong part of his arm. "Should I summon a healer?"

"No!" His voice was a bit too sharp. "It is nothing." He dropped his hands to his side. "But I must take my leave of you. There are other matters I must attend to while in London. I will come by again tomorrow."

His robes rustled and billowed as he turned and left the room at a hurried pace. The door closed with a soft click behind him.

"And that was very much a lie."

"Most likely." The voice was dry and weak from disuse. "Lying is what he does best."

Hannah whirled around again, her breath caught in her throat. Hermione's soft brown eyes were red-veined but open, fixed on the closed door for a moment before they flickered up to her mother's face. "Have I missed start of term?"


	47. Chapter 47

_July 16th_

_My Dearest Hermione,_

_Training is brutal. I don't know what I was thinking when I decided it was a good idea to pursue a career as a professional Seeker. I should have had you beat some sense into me so that I might have chosen a less strenuous and respectable job, such as magical maintenance at the Ministry. At least then I might have been able to crawl into bed without every muscle of my body screaming in protest. I would have thought that with all our sparring and training together I would be in perfect shape, but I'm finding new muscles I never knew the human body possessed._

_The twins wrote me and told me that you're getting to keep your position as prefect. I'm glad. I was afraid that our little adventure in the Department of Mysteries might have been too much for even Dumbledore to ignore. I suppose it helps that now everyone is aware that You-Know-Who is back. Security here is beyond insane. Even the elves attached to the stadium have had background checks and every scrap of food or supplies coming is double and triple checked. I was in need of new leathers and the team's manager sent the first set back because he couldn't confirm every set of hands they had passed through before getting to me!_

_July 19__th_

_Sorry about that. I was in the middle of writing my letter when they did a bed check. I got in trouble for being up past lights out. Nothing too dramatic. Coach gave me a blistering scolding, fined me ten galleons and put me on clean-up detail for a few days. I thought it best to wait until our free time to finish up writing to you. They're worse than the professors at school when it comes to rules. Hogwarts was nothing like this._

_As I was saying earlier, security is mad. And the constant watchfulness is doing nothing to help the other blokes. The other players are all nervous. We've lost three so far because of familial concerns. They were muggleborns and decided that they'd rather gather up their families and go into hiding rather than stay in the country and risk their parents and loved ones being turned into targets. I can't say that I blame them. Please tell me the Order is doing all that they can to safeguard your parents. I wouldn't put it past the Death Eaters to decide they were expendable since I'm certain they consider Professor Snape the only parent of yours that matters. Your mum and dad are too good of people to be discounted in such a fashion._

_How are Harry and the others holding up? I've been keeping up with the papers, one of the few outside connects we have steady access to, and I've read what they're saying about him. 'The Chosen One'. He's got to hate that. I know how much he dislikes people making a fuss over him. One more thing to keep him apart from everyone else and rob him of any kind of normalcy. _

_What's more, how are __you__ holding up? How is your recovery? Please give me something to hang onto. It's near impossible to concentrate on playing well when my mind is worrying about you. I hate being this far from you and I find I miss the danger of discovery when you would sneak into my dorm room and curl up with me to sleep. It's hard for me to go get a good night's rest without you by my side. And I'm fairly certain if I don't stop talking about you the other blokes are going to cut out my tongue. Ollie's been defending me so far, but I think I'm even starting to wear on his nerves._

_We should be allowed to have friends and family near once the season officially starts and we're out of training. I'll send you our schedule once it's been solidified. With the security concerns they've had to change things quite a few times already. I can't wait to see you again._

_Write to me soon. I love you. I miss you. I need you._

_Yours, always,_

_Cedric_

_~***~_

_July 28__th_

_Dear Cedric,_

_Stop breaking the rules to write to me. I'll never forgive you if you bungle your career and your future over me. You can wait until your free time._

_Don't worry about Harry. We'll keep his head on straight and help him through this. Ron and I have become quite skilled at Harry Keeping since we were first years._

_And stop worrying about me. My recovery is going quite well. The Healers have done a remarkable job. They still don't know what was done to me or what curse was used, but I barely feel even the slightest twinge now. I was quite fortunate, given what Bellatrix has been known for in the past._

_I miss you as well. Send me your schedule the second you have it in yours hands. I want a copy even before your send one to your mum and dad. I'll find a way to see you, even if I have to suffer through a Quidditch match to do it._

_Yours,_

_Hermione_

_~***~_

The letter was rolled up tightly and affixed to the leg of Cedric's handsome owl. Hermione gave the bird a gentle stroke as it finished munching on a treat before sending it back to its master. Hopefully the letter would buy some time.

Hannah and Jacob had already left for the clinic. Hannah had lingered at the door a bit longer than was needed, watching her with a worried expression. She had been exceptionally hovering since the Healers had discharged her from St. Mungos.

And Hannah was nothing compared to Severus. The man should really use his time and energy for something more productive; like killing Death Eaters.

Hermione watched the owl until the bird vanished from sight before turning to the full-length mirror on the back of the door leading to the adjoining bath. Jeans and a scarlet jumper. Normal enough clothing for a teenage girl. Primary wand up her sleeve. Double wands in the clever holsters at the small of her back. Dagger strapped to the right calf under her jeans leg. She was as ready as she was going to get.

It was simple enough to catch a bus at the end of her street to the underground. From there she caught the train to the stop three streets over from the Leaky Cauldron. Since only magical people could see the little pub, no one questioned her arrival there or that she went out the back door to the secret entrance onto Diagon Alley.

The alley was only slightly less crowded than usual, but there was a definite tension in the air. People kept close to their loved ones, wand hands always empty and ready at a moment's notice. Eyes darted furtively hither and yon. They were wise to be so cautious. These were not safe times. She, too, kept a wary eye open as she made her way to Gringotts and passed through its heavy doors.

A squat little goblin caught sight of her and came forward to greet her. "Miss Granger, Gringotts is honored by your presence." Such was the way the very wealthy were greeted at the wizarding bank. The bigger your vault, the more personal the service. "How may we assist you today?"

She ignored the few curious stares turning her way. "I need to speak with the head goblin regarding a significant withdrawal." The goblin visibly flinched before giving a short bow and scurrying off. A moment later she was being escorted into a well-appointed office with a surly looking goblin seated at a chair far too big for his tiny body.

"Miss Granger, I am told you wish to make a significant withdrawal from our bank."

She waited until the door shut behind her. "You were told correctly."

"Has any employee of Gringotts done something to upset you? I assure you that if such has happened we will be more than willing to make amends."

She gave him a slow smile. "That is not necessary. The amount I am removing from my personal vault is actually very reasonable. The 'significant withdrawal' is an item that I am removing from vault Theta-2."

The ruddy complexion of the goblin paled, his mouth gaping open and his ears visibly drooping in shock. "Vault Theta-2? Surely you are mistaken."

Hermione arched a brow. "I am nothing but serious. I trust that the vault is still in tact, or did someone actually managed to claim it before now?"

The goblin shook his head. "No one has come asking about a Theta vault in over eight hundred years." He cleared his throat. "Miss Granger, even a Gringotts goblin cannot get into a Theta vault. Only a wizard can open the door, and even then they must use the correct sequence of wand movements. One wrong move and the consequences are dire."

Her smile returned. "Of that I am well aware. I assure you, I do know what I am doing. Is this going to be a problem?"

The head goblin swallowed. "No, Miss Granger. I will escort you to the vault myself." He fumbled with a ring of keys dangling from his tiny waistcoat and came around the desk. Taking up a lantern he escorted her from his office and towards the entrance leading to the vaults and the precarious railway that carried the carts to and fro. To the casual observer she looked like any other patron of the bank, perhaps a bit better favored at having the head goblin escorting her to her vault, but just another witch.

They stopped at the Granger vault first. Hermione removed a bagful of galleons, enough to purchase her school supplies once the lists came out and to get something for Harry's birthday while at the alley. Her withdrawal there didn't even manage a noticeable dent in her fortune.

That done, she got back into the little cart and they zoomed on past the vaults held by the oldest and wealthiest families. The goblin pulled a little lever inside the cart and a part of the rail several meters in front of them detached from the rest of the railing to angle downward still deeper under the bank. Hermione ducked her head down as they zoomed into a darkness quickly banished as ancient and long-forgotten torches burst into flame as they passed. After a small eternity, the cart came to a stop in a large circular landing surrounded by four imposing vault doors.

"The Theta Vaults, Miss Granger."

Hermione unfolded herself from the cart and walked towards the second vault on the left-hand side. The goblin watched on as she pulled out her wand and started to trace intricate patterns upon the door. Her hand did not falter in the slightest and her reward was that the magical locks began to turn and slide until the heavy door was free to swing open. It groaned in protest on unused hinges until she was looking into the massive cavern and the treasure within.

The bank goblin took several tentative steps forward. "No one has seen the inside of Theta-2 in over one thousand years."

Hermione looked around her, eyes scanning the piles of coins and artifacts. "That is very good to hear. For a moment I was afraid that want-to-be overlord might have actually known how to get in here." There was a note of heavy derision in her voice. One that the goblin's sensitive ears picked up, causing him to tilt his head curiously.

"Shall we move everything to your vault upstairs, Miss?"

Hermione paused slightly. "Tempting, but I don't think so. I'm only looking for one particular item." Her eyes continued to scan the contents of the vault until they found their quarry. Her lips turned up into a smile as she walked over to a stack of scrolls. With one hand she reached in and extracted a slender wand of some thick, dark wood. "Hello, Old Friend."

The goblin observed her as she turned the wand over in her hand, fingers stroking it lovingly. "Will that be all, Miss?"

Hermione turned on the spot, her eyes leveling on the goblin. "I trust that Gringott's reputation for absolute discretion is still in tact."

The goblin's shoulders squared. "You were never here, Miss."

Her smile returned. "Good." She pocketed the wand. "We're done here."

~***~

"Is she secure?" Michael ignored the curious onlookers as the gurney was wheeled past him and loaded into an official looking ambulance. The medic following it stopped by him.

"Strapped down and sedated. We barely got here in time." Both men turned their eyes to the dark head of hair before it was hidden from their view by the closing doors. "She hadn't actually slit her wrists just yet."

"That's better than last week, at least."

"Any word on our girl?"

Michael checked his watch. "I'm on my way for a heart to heart with Daddy Dearest, now. I'll let you know what I find out." He patted the medic briefly on the shoulder. "Get our lost little bird back to the nest and comfortable, would you?"

Turner continued to ignore the onlookers as he made his way past the mock-up police tape and towards his car. It helped to be a government agency, even a covert one. They were able to use all sorts of official looking goodies.

The black sedan pulled away from the crowd and moved through the busy streets of London. The café where he was to meet Snape was almost completely on the other side of the city, but traffic was with him today and he managed to get there only a minute late. Still, for Severus Snape, a minute was a bit too long.

"I'm so pleased you finally decided to show, Mr. Turner."

"Sorry. We had an emergency to deal with." Michael pulled out a chair at the small table and ordered a coffee from the waitress. "Things are rather hectic."

Severus made a non-committal sound as he waited for the waitress to leave. "Any news on Trout?"

Michael shook his head. "He's still managing to keep under the radar, though we're fairly certain he is somewhere in the UK. I'm not certain what talents he has in his employ at the moment, but at least one of them is effectively throwing off our spotters."

"Such is the way with villains and enemies, Mr. Turner. The rats hide in the shadows and in the sewers, slithering out when the shadows can better hide them."

"Sometimes I think you could be this century's Lovecraft or Poe." Severus gave a smirk but didn't comment. "How is Hermione?"

"Better. She's back at home with the Grangers and seems to be recovering well."

Michael's hand stilled on his coffee cup. "Back at home?"

"Yes, she woke up almost two weeks ago. She appears to be almost completely recovered." Snape caught the shocked expression in Turner's eyes. "I thought you'd be pleased."

"Ah… of course! I mean... that's great news." Michael's brow furrowed. "Does she seem all right? What I mean to say is, does she seem to be in control of… all her faculties?"

Snape arched a brow. "I do believe that is what I said. Do you have some reason to think otherwise?"

Could they have been that wrong? Was something else causing the problem with the natural mediums? "I… no, of course not. It was just, she was out for so long." Michael stirred some sugar into his coffee. "Have they determined what that Bellatrix person did to her?"

"They have not. They could not find any evidence of magic, dark or otherwise. The healers are quite mystified as to what may have caused her to lapse into unconsciousness as she did."

"That… is unsettling." Michael stared into his coffee. "Any indication that she might relapse?" He could feel Snape's narrowed gaze on his face.

"Not that anyone has been able to identify." Severus leaned back in his chair, gaze still narrowed. "Is there something of which I should be aware, Mr. Turner?"

Michael considered telling him about their theory regarding the Keoghs and their affect on the world's dead. But there was still the possibility that the theory was wrong. In the end he decided to keep his worries to himself. "No, I don't think that there is. Just… ideas I have running around in my head. I'm sorry if I seem distracted, but I just came from a scene where a previously unidentified talent tried to kill herself."

A single black brow arched. "Telepath?" A reasonable assumption. Telepaths and empaths were just as likely to think that they were going mad. All those extra voices and constantly, erratically shifting emotions.

And it was something to deflect the questions. "Unfortunately." Well, what Hermione did was sort of like a type of telepathy, only with the dead rather than the living. "The poor girl had just moved to the city." That part was true. "What she could reason away in a small town became unbearable. We had to sedate her. She'll likely be in restraints until we can convince her that she hasn't lost her mind." That part was also true.

Severus studied him silently for a moment before picking up his own cup of coffee. "Wild talents have the same trouble as muggleborns, or so I would imagine. At least a magical child born into a magical family is aware of what he is and what he can do. How terrifying it must be for someone who does not have such a background."

Michael nodded in agreement. Something told him that Severus did not entirely believe his story, but that the wizard was willing to let things lie. For the moment at any rate.


End file.

Harry Potter, Horror, Supernatural