Chapter 28

Disclaimer: Not mine. I just borrowed them for a while. I promise to put them back when I'm done. Oh, nope, no money either...just for fun.

I want to give a great big thank you hug to Arabellabloodgood and to DuchessOfArcadia for combing through this and helping me clean up my many mistakes. I really appreciate it more than you can possibly know.

Thank you, Jay, for the beautiful banner. I absolutely love it!

As far as Hermione was concerned, things couldn't have gone more bottom-end-up if she'd turned over the cauldron herself. The notices went up all over the school overnight: Dolores Umbridge was Headmistress of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the entire school was buzzing about Dumbledore. Since Harry and Marietta were the only two students to have witnessed Dumbledore's escape, and Marietta still remained in the hospital wing...not allowing any visitors to see her until Madam Pomfrey could sort out the curse which gave the girl pimples which spelled out 'SNEAK' across her nose and both cheeks...that meant that Harry had once again become very popular. He was constantly bombarded with questions wherever he went, which he answered with way too much enthusiasm, in Hermione's opinion.

Not only that, but Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad were walking around the corridors like peacocks, deducting points from anyone not in Slytherin, and Malfoy was acting like he was the king of Hogwarts, not just the self-elevated Prince of Slytherin.

The frightening thing was that Fred and George had declared that they didn't care about getting into trouble anymore. She'd always thought they hadn't cared about getting into trouble all along, considering how reckless they had always been, but the look in their eyes...it was, well... terrifying wasn't exactly right. They were planning something...something big. They had even said so, and that it would happen today, at any moment. For Hermione, there was a sense of anticipation in the air about her, oppressive and nerve-wracking...like waiting for exam results when you know you've missed several answers, and everything was riding on the scores. She turned to look at the door again, carefully avoiding the smirk she caught on George's face or the wink from Fred.

Harry was with Umbridge. In her office. For questioning. Hermione sat in her usual spot for meals, continuously glancing nervously at Ginny and trying very hard to not look at either Fred or George. Even though they sat down the table from her, directly in her line of sight, between her and the doors, smirking and laughing with their friends.

"What do you think they're planning?" Ron asked for the umpteenth time.

"I have no idea," she hissed. "Eat something."

"Might want to take your own advice," he hissed back.

Hermione glanced at the doors again and saw George nudge Fred, who turned his head slightly and nodded to his twin with a very cocky smirk. Hermione inhaled, realizing that the moment had come.

BOOM

To say that the explosion shook the room was an understatement...it jolted, rocked, and shook the room like a mega bomb exploding during an earthquake. Everything on the tables, including the tables themselves, bounced. The benches bounced, and several students even fell off the benches onto the floor. The windows above them rattled so threateningly that the students sitting at the house tables along the walls covered their heads or ducked under the tables. The candles floating above them shook, sending wax everywhere. Most of the goblets toppled, and dust floated down from the ceiling. Even the magical sky flickered and disappeared, leaving the rafters and support arches visible.

Loud, sizzling cracks, more deafening-loud explosions could be heard from within the castle over the terrified screams and panicked cries of the students. What sounded like multiple rapid gunfire and more sizzling, echoing cracks and explosions made it seem that World War III had broken out in the castle. Every teacher was now on their feet.

"SILENCE! WILL YOU STOP SCREAMING," the magically enhanced voice of McGonagall could be heard above the screams and cries of the startled students, not that it did much good. Students were running for the doors, ducking under tables and clinging to each other. "STOP THIS. STOP THIS! WILL YOU PLEASE CALM DOWN!!"

No one paid her any attention at all; the students were screaming and crying while scrambling to escape the confines of the Great Hall, or clinging to each other under the tables, or simply running in blind panic, their cries punctuated by hundreds of loud explosions and sizzling cracks, things crashing...

"PLEASE, CALM YOURSELVES!" the magically enhanced voice of Professor McGonagall shouted over the din.

As soon as the doors opened, two huge dragons comprised entirely of green-and-gold sparks soared into the Great Hall, followed by a shocking-pink Catherine wheels that had to be at least a good six feet across, whizzing lethally through the room. Multiple rockets were zooming though the air, rebounding off the walls and ceiling. Firecrackers were exploding in the Entrance Hall, the smoke wafting in through the doorway.

"DO SOMETHING!" someone screeched.

Several of the older students, and possibly a teacher or two, aimed their wands at the fireworks. "Stupefy!" Hermione heard the seventh-year Gryffindor prefect shout, also repeated by several others in the Great Hall. Several jets of red light and a few orange ones shot upward, some hitting the fireworks...only instead of immobilizing or vanishing them, several fireworks exploded with such force as to melt all the candles floating in the air, almost shatter the windows and made chunks of stone fall; and three of them multiplied...by half a dozen it seemed...filling the Great Hall, zooming wildly and whizzing about above everyone's heads.

"WANDS DOWN," the magically enhanced voice of Professor McGonagall shouted.

Ron grabbed Hermione's robes as he pulled her with him. "Ouch! Ron!" she exclaimed as someone stepped on her foot.

Hermione turned, hoping to see Professor Snape, but he was nowhere within sight.

"DO SOMETHING!" someone behind her yelled.

"Follow Fred," Ron was saying as another dragon exploded, multiplying in the air.

"Ron, there's nowhere to go," Hermione said, following him while trying to remain as low as possible.

"Better out there than in here with that nutter who's making them multiply!" he shouted as he pulled her from the Great Hall.

The scene in the Entrance Hall and the main stairs was worse than in the Great Hall; besides the green-and-gold dragons and pink Catherine wheels, there were long-tailed silver rockets ricocheting off the walls and ceiling, sparklers in all colors, swirling in the air, writing swear words, and huge, ominous bats made up of purple sparkles that left thick smoke in their wakes... and firecrackers, thousands of firecrackers that seemed to be exploding everywhere, then re-exploding continually...obviously charmed to do so. Students were scrambling to get away, running in every direction, crying and screaming, grouping together in tight clusters along the walls and even in the middle of the floor. Hermione stayed low, weaving her way, following the crowd, trying to encourage the cluster of terrified students to move. Only she had no idea where to tell them to go...the fireworks were everywhere!

She could hardly wait for Care of Magical Creatures. At least it would be outside.

Across the hall, someone was holding up a shield charm as students crammed into the stairway which led to the basement level. "Go there," she said to some frightened girls, pointing to the shield charm. That was when she spotted him, Professor Snape, urging the students into the dungeons as he held his wand up holding a shield charm over his head. "This way!" she urged those closest to her.

Someone barreled into Ron, making him stumble, and a rocket shot past her head, making Hermione jump back into anther group of students. Hermione turned, heading for Professor Snape.

"Get below," Professor Snape said, urging some students, mostly Slytherins, to go past him. Hermione realized he was holding the shield charm not to protect himself but to protect entrance to the stairs, to keep the fireworks out of the dungeons. As she approached him, he hissed, "My office, Miss Granger."

She nodded and grabbed the hand of a second-year girl who was huddling with her friends in a cluster against the wall. "We'll be safe down in the dungeons."

The sounds of the explosions and screams faded as she descended the stairs followed by a group of whimpering second-years. "Go to the Potions class room," she said kindly to the girls that had followed her. She turned and saw another group of frightened students exit the stairs and look around in apprehension. Hermione waved them over. "Over here, your safe," she called out. The students flocked to her. "Go on, go to the Potions classroom. You'll be..."

"Not so fast, Granger."

Hermione turned, finding herself face-to-face with the Slytherin sixth-year prefect, Aldebaran Urguhart. "Too many jars and ingredients...they would be far safer in some of the old dungeon rooms."

"I-I'm n-n-not go-going in a-any of th-those!" one of the girls stammered with a pronounced stutter, which must have been exaggerated by her fear of the rumors she'd heard. "Th-ther-there're chains and r-r-racks and ta-tor-torture devices in..."

"There is a large room down that corridor. It's got thick walls, an iron door, and the vaulted ceilings are supported by load-bearing arches, it's the safest place, believe me," he said calmly, interrupting her. Several of the girls clung to each other, and a few were backing away for the stairs, even though another group of students were entering the corridor.

Hermione scowled at him and reached out to try and reassure the frightened girl. "I'm sure that the place he mentioned is...," she started to explain, but Urguhart interrupted her as well.

"I'm not going to torture any of you. It's safe; I swear on my wand."

Hermione nodded.

"See. I'm sure he's right, c'mon," she urged everyone. "He would know these dungeons better than us."

A little boy took her hand and she held out her other, smiling when the second-year girl grasped it. They followed Urguhart down the corridor and around a bend, stopping in front of an imposing door. The door opened easily with a soft, rusty-sounding moan. Urguhart walked in confidently and began lighting torches with his wand, so Hermione did the same. The room was cavernous, exactly how he described it, and there wasn't a chain or shackle in sight, although some of the walls and the arches showed signs of having been hit with spell blasts and rebound burns.

Tammorah Merkle entered with another group of kids. "It's bedlam up there," she said as her charges ran over to their friends and housemates.

"The teachers will have it sorted out," Urguhart stated, but Merkle shook her head.

"Nope, not doing a thing. Flitwick and McGonagall were escorting the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors down the safer corridors to the north wing, and from there the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor prefects are escorting them to their common rooms until things are sorted out. Professor Sprout is sending students down to the kitchens." She moved aside as a group of frightened students entered the room, most in their first, second, or third year, but quite a few were also from fourth year. "Kennecott and Hartshorne are holding the shield at the entrance to the stairs, while Professor Snape is trying to get all the students he can to come down here. Wilkes, Reilly, and Macrae are escorting them here."

Hermione knew that Serena Wilkes and Penelope Reilly were also Slytherin prefects.

"What's Miss Parkinson doing?" Urguhart asked.

Merkle shrugged. "Haven't seen her."

The door opened, and Tracy Davis ushered more frightened students inside, mostly lower years, many of them Slytherins. Tracy walked up to Merkle and Urguhart. "According to Kennecott the fireworks have spread to the upper floors. There are still students trapped in loos, alcoves, and doorways, but at least the Great Hall is mostly empty now. I have to go...in case there are more students being sent down here."

"So, what do we do now?" Urguhart asked, looking at all the scared lower years huddled together in groups. Penelope Reilly entered with another group of kids.

Merkle shrugged. "We wait until Professor Snape or one of the other professors comes to escort them to where they should be."

"So what do we do with them in the mean time?" Reilly asked.

"I have an idea," Hermione suggested, digging in her bag for two of the scarves she'd made the house-elves.

"What is this?" Merkle asked when Hermione handed her a scarf.

"We can play capture the flag," Hermione said, holding the second one. She quickly outlined the game to the older Slytherins. "We can practice basic Defense spells: stun, freeze, disarm, or gently sting each other, but no fighting. Teammates can reverse the spells on each other."

Urguhart and Reilly smiled. "Not bad, Granger," Urguhart said with a grin. He quickly divided the teams by pointing to each person while counting, "one, two, one, two," as he walked by each group of students and made himself captain of one side. "Okay, all the ones, you're with me. We're the... Normans. Granger is the captain of the twos, and they will be the Saxons. Wilkes you go with her."

Wilkes nodded and walked confidently over to stand next to Hermione. "Good call," she said softly.

"Er, thanks," Hermione replied, then asked three of the boys on her team to take the scarf to the far end of the room and guard it. They grabbed the scarf, took off running and quickly disappeared from sight.

They were well into the game when Professor Snape, followed by Kennecott and Macrae behind him, entered the cavernous room. "What is going on here!" he shouted, making every one stop and turn to face him. Well, except for the few students who'd been frozen or stunned and lay on the floor waiting to be revived.

Urguhart stepped out from behind a stone arch. "It's a game, Professor, to pass the time. Capture the scarf."

"A game? You were fighting...revive those students," Professor Snape demanded, and Kennecott stifled a laugh.

Wilkes and Reiley walked up to their Head of House. "It really is only a game, Professor," Reiley protested, and Urguhart quickly explained the nature and rules of the game.

Professor Snape relaxed somewhat. "Very well. The game is now finished," he said. "Go check the back of the room for any stragglers or students who need reviving." Kennecott, Urguhart, and Reilly went to check the back of the room for strays.

Severus turned to Miss Wilkes. "Was anyone hurt?"

"No, sir!" she replied a bit too quickly.

"Good," Professor Snape replied and turned to face the collected group. "The fireworks appear to be relatively harmless as long as you stay low and move next to the walls. They have dispersed throughout the castle on every floor, and a few have escaped outside. However, do not under any circumstances try to vanquish or stun them," he warned them. "You all have lessons to attend to. My prefects will escort you to your classrooms and ensure that you are not harmed. Now go quietly."

"Professor, a lot of them seemed to have left their bags in the Great Hall," Merkle pointed out.

Professor Snape nodded thoughtfully. "The fireworks in there are staying up in the rafters. If you crouch low, staying below the height of the tables, you may collect your things."

Hermione ran to get her scarf and bag. On the way out, Professor Snape grabbed her arm. "No doubt this capture the scarf was your idea," he said smoothly.

"Yes, Professor," she replied.

He smiled and let go of her arm. "Thank you. I'd appreciate it if you'd also help the students to their lessons," he said.

Hermione smiled at him, relishing in his apparent gratitude. "Certainly, sir."

Throughout the day, the fireworks continued to cause havoc. The students, now less afraid of the beautiful sparking dragons, Catherine wheels, rockets, and obscene sparklers, moved in groups as much as possible, staying low and keeping shield charms in place as they moved about the castle. Every so often, and when Umbridge wasn't around, one or more of them would hit a passing firework with a Vanishing Charm, grinning mischievously as the firework multiplied and shot off in ten different directions, or Stunned one, laughing at the loud explosions. None of the staff did anything to stop the fireworks, following Decree Number Twenty-six to the letter, and some even granted Gryffindor points to secretly thank Fred and George for the entertaining mayhem.

Professor McGonagall, after checking that there weren't any students around to witness her mischief, cornered a pink Catherine wheel and made it crash into a green-and-gold dragon, just to see what would happen. She smiled when the result created a fiery red-and-green dragon with pink wings and spewing pink flames. Loving her creation, she hit the new firework with a Vanishing spell a few times and then ducked back into her classroom to give her animals that she maintained for her lessons a bit of Calming Draught for their nerves.

Twice, between lessons when the students were not around, Professor Flitwick slyly Vanished a few passing Catherine wheels that afternoon, his favorite of the lot, grinning like a young wizard for a moment before once again assuming the proper decorum expected of him in case any student would happen by.

Professor Burbage assigned her students an essay on the difference between Muggle Fireworks and Fred and George's magical ones, giving extra credit for illustrations.

Professor Vector trapped a rocket in a classroom with a vaulted ceiling and high windows to test her theory on how many times it could be vanquished before the firework put itself out. She never found out the answer, although every window had been shattered and hundreds of rockets soared out into the sky above the castle.

And Professor Sprout, who was caught flicking her wand at some of the sparklers by Filch, told him she was simply trying to make them write out less offensive words. However, all she did was to add Umbridge's name to the profanities written by the sparklers she'd 'fixed' instead. She walked away, trying to suppress her smile as she sought out a few more.

That night in the Gryffindor common room, Fred and George were thrown a huge party as heroes of discord and mayhem, and a framed picture of them was placed upon the mantel above the fireplace.

Unbeknownst to the celebrating Gryffindors, the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students were rejoicing as well. The Ravenclaws, having captured one of the green-and-gold sparkling dragon fireworks in their common room, took turns making the dragon soar harmlessly overhead in the rafters as they toasted Fred and George with sparkling razzleberry frizzes and butterbeers.

A few of the older Hufflepuffs, after escorting several students safely to their common rooms, hit several of the fireworks with a few well aimed Vanishing Charms to ensure they would last the night and possibly the next morning. They returned to the common room to share in the large variety of refreshments and drinks and revel in the stories of how inept Umbridge had been in dealing with the chaos.

Justin Finch-Fletchley tapped his wand on his glass, and several people turned to look at him. "I think I'd like to make a toast," he said, once he had almost everyone's attention. "To Fred and George," he started to say.

"Why them?" Arnold Stebbins asked, apparently confused.

"Who else would have had the audacity to release dozens of fireworks in the castle in protest of Umbridge sacking Dumbledore and making herself Headmistress?" Ernie Macmillan asked with a mischievous grin on his face.

"Is that why they did it?" Hannah asked.

Justin shrugged. "All I know is that they are bloody brilliant, and I, for one, enjoyed seeing Umbridge scurrying around trying to deal with them," he said and raised his glass once again. "So, to Fred and George, thank you for the show."

"Hear, hear," many of the Hufflepuffs cried out and took a sip of their drinks.

Up on the Astronomy tower, the professors Minerva, Filius, Poppy, Wilhelmina, and Septima gathered to enjoy a glass of elf-made elderberry wine to welcome their newest members, Aurora and Rolanda, into the Order of the Phoenix and to watch the fireworks in the night sky as they discussed how best to keep the students safe from Umbridge's foul temper, especially the students who were in Dumbledore's Army.

Madam Hooch aimed her wand, making a rocket collide with a Catherine wheel, smiling in delight as it exploded into a huge Chrysanthemum, creating several sparkling pink-and-silver winged pigs.

"Rolanda!" Minerva exclaimed with her lips purse. "Not so close to the windows," she added, trying her aim with one of the Catherine wheels too.

And in a huge, cavernous room in the dungeons, seventh-years, Raymond 'Darias' Kennecott, Raithe Macrae, Duane Hartshorne, Serena Wilkes, Valeria Franklin, and Tammorah Merkle, sixth-years Aldebaran Urguhart, Raymond Aubry, Penelope Reilly, Mary Nolan, Winnifred Maguire, and Mary Dorothea Langley, fifth-years Rayne Boughton, Brambila Rusbridge, and fourth-years Gasper Vaisey and Eddart Terrance stood around a small bonfire and toasted the Gryffindor miscreants, Fred and George, for their fireworks. "And may I also suggest a toast to Miss Hermione Granger," Darias said while holding up his butterbeer, "whose game of capture the scarf not only helped ease the tension down here today in this very room, but allowed us to show that Slytherins aren't all bad."

"It did allow house animosity to be put aside in favor of fun for a full hour," Aldebaran pointed out.

"Hear, hear," several people chanted.

They all raised their glasses. "To Hermione Granger," Darias said, and everyone drank.

Even Hermione fought her way through the crowd to congratulate Fred and George, and to exclaim about the incredible fireworks. "They were wonderful fireworks!"* she exclaimed, giving a startled George a hug. "I loved them!"

"What? Miss Perfect-prefect actually approves?" George said as he let go of her and watched her turn to hug his twin.

Fred held his arms out as wide as he could, considering the crowd surrounding him. "Thanks," he said as he hugged her back and set her on her feet. Others started pressing forward, and Hermione was none too gently shuffled and squeezed aside as George said, "Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs!"*

"Only thing is, we used our whole stock..."* said Fred.

"We're going to have to start again from scratch now..."* said George.

"But it was worth it, though. If you want to add your name to the waiting list, Hermione,"* Fred was saying as Hermione backed away from the crowd.

"It's five Galleons for your Basic Blaze box, and twenty for the Deflagration Deluxe!"*

She saw Ron and Harry at a table between two of the windows, both of them staring dejectedly at their schoolbags. "Oh, why don't we have a night off?"* she asked brightly, hoping to lift their spirits. A silver-tailed Weasley Rocket zoomed past the window, making Hermione smile. "After all, the Easter holidays start on Friday, we'll have plenty of time then..."*

Ron was staring at her in disbelief, which made her laugh. "Are you feeling alright?"*

"Now that you mention it," Hermione said happily,* plonking herself on the seat across from Harry and dropping her bag on the floor at her feet, "d'you know, I think I'm feeling a bit..."* She smiled as a Catherine wheel spun lazily outside the window near the boys. "Rebellious."*

"You mean it?" Ron asked as a sparkling rocket zoomed into view and collided with a Catherine wheel, making a huge Chrysanthemum and creating several sparkling pink-and-silver winged pigs.

"Why not," Hermione said, grinning happily at the fireworks in the sky.

Severus stood out on the battlements, holding a flask of Firewhisky in his hand. He knew that he shouldn't be drinking, especially where any wayward student might happen upon him, but he felt like celebrating. From his vantage point, he could see Gryffindor tower, the lights shining brightly from every window. He raised his flask to his lips and swallowed a mouthful of the fiery liquid. Around him, floating lazily in the sky were dozens of the remaining fireworks. He liked the green-and-gold dragons best, scoffed at the fiery red-and-green dragons, and watched in amusement as the glittering pink-and-silver winged pigs collided and multiplied. Taking out his wand, he hit a passing green-and-gold dragon with a Vanishing Charm, watching it burst into ten more, one that collided with a rocket, creating half a dozen gold-and-silver versions.

He was surprisingly pleased with the mayhem the Weasley twins had created, mostly because Severus had felt an immense satisfaction watching Umbridge spend her entire day disheveled, soot-blackened, and snarl-faced as she was summoned from one classroom to another, unsuccessfully trying to vanquish the fireworks. The school governors would surely have plenty to say about her inability to maintain order. He scoffed at the thought and took another sip of his drink. It served her right.

He turned to look at the Gryffindor tower. He had been so proud of Hermione that afternoon. His prefects had told him everything. With so many kids, mostly the younger years, flocking into the dungeons for safety, she had taken upon herself to start a game, one in which house affiliations played no part, where Slytherin students teamed up with the other houses for a common goal, practicing basic Defense spells, and promoted a sense of unity. If only for an hour. "Ten points to Gryffindor," he said softly, knowing that the points would be granted no matter how softly he said them, "to Miss Granger for her quick thinking and unbiased..." No, that will show up on the Award Register. Shite. Too late. "Attempt at fair play." Minerva would surely call him on this one. Oh, well. Surely she heard about the game by now?

He wished there were more opportunities for such games. Hermione was an amazing girl, quick thinking, smart, and caring.

He knew that his little club of Slytherins were celebrating in the same room in the dungeons. They had every right to do so. They had done well to help protect the students, of all houses, as they moved about the castle between lessons.

A shadow crossed a window on the fourth floor of the Gryffindor girls' dorm room turret, and Severus wondered for a moment if it might be the fifth-year girl's dorm room.

Sighing, he turned, watching a pink-and-silver pig roll by and headed for the stairs.

Hermione sat in her favorite chair in the common room by the fire, the one that allowed her a clear view of the portrait hole entry, with her feet on the coffee table and book propped up on her thighs. Not that she could concentrate on a word of the book. Harry had his Occlumency lesson with Professor Snape tonight, and she was certain that he wouldn't tell Professor Snape about the dream. Harry had made it through the door into a circular room of multiple identical doors, through a room of clicking...ticking, possibly clocks... and into a room of rows upon rows of towering shelves, holding thousands of glowing, dusty, spun-glass spheres. And Harry had said it made Voldemort... happy. Happy!

If Harry didn't tell Professor Snape, she'd have to wait until Potions on Thursday or make up an excuse to see him.

Just then Harry scrambled through the entrance of the common room and headed straight for the stairs to the boys' dorms. "Harry?" He was back early, much too early, and he looked angry. Well, that wasn't unusual after having Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape, but still. She started to get up. "Harry!"

"Not now, Hermione, I've got a headache," he replied angrily over his shoulder, not even bothering to look at her.

"I can get some of the Pain Po-tion," she stammered, watching his retreating back. Something was wrong...something had happened...and she wasn't sure what to do: follow him or seek out Professor Snape.

"I'll go," Ron suggested, jumping to his feet and following Harry up to the dorm.

Hermione waited...wondering...worrying. Finally, she decided that she had to know what happened. Did Harry tell Professor Snape about the dream, or was it something else that made Harry mad? Not knowing, but needing to, she rose and left the common room for the dungeons. She was thankful that the castle was quiet. The Bloody Baron passed in front of her, slipping out of the rock and disappearing through the other side of the corridor, apparently not noticing her approach as she hurried down to Professor Snape's office. She knocked on his door and waited.

Nothing happened. She didn't hear his usual bark to enter, but determined to see him, she knocked again. Nothing. No sounds; no snarling demand to enter.

"Professor?" Hermione asked, pushing open the door. She felt and heard something crunch under her foot as she stepped into his office and nearly slipped on something hard. She looked down and illuminated her wand. Cockroaches, beetles, Globe thistle seeds, and shards of broken glass littered the floor.

"Put that light out," Professor Snape snarled from across the room.

"Professor Snape, is everything all right?" she asked, extinguishing the light as she cast a Reparo on the broken glass. Five glass jars quickly reformed.

"Get out," he growled, from somewhere in the back of the room and to her right.

"What happened?" she asked, looking around at the dark room. The only illumination, a barely effective silvery-blue shimmer, seemed to come from a bowl on his desk. "Did Harry do something?"

"Yes, that imbecilic, mediocre, arrogant, impertinent, nosey, bane of my bloody existence..."

"What did he do?" Hermione asked as Professor Snape continued to curse Harry and his father.

"...did something! He invaded my privacy!" Professor Snape snarled venomously at her.

She'd read that could happen, Backtracking or Backlashing, when researching Legilimency and Occlumency in the library, but that was difficult to do, especially on someone who was as gifted an Occlumens and Legilimens as Professor Snape. "He did? Did he learn how to Backlash...?"

"No," Professor Snape spat out angrily.

She walked toward him. "You're not making any..." she started to say and tripped over a chair, which made her land painfully on her hands and knees. Her wand went skidding across the stone floor.

Suddenly, she felt a firm hand pull her to her feet. "I don't have to clarify it to you," he snapped. "Now get out." He pulled her roughly with him toward the door.

"Did he tell you about the dream?" she asked.

He stopped. "What dream?"

"The Department of Mysteries! He saw into the Department of Mysteries, I know it! Harry saw past the black door into a circular room lined with more doors, through that to a room that had clicking or ticking sounds and into a room full of shelves of dusty glass spheres...thousands and thousands of them on shelves. He said there was something in there that He wanted, that he knew exactly where, and was running toward it."

He stood next to her, still holding her arm in a vice grip, unmoving. Hermione could feel her heart beat and refrained from counting each pulse. Finally, after what seemed to be several minutes, he said, "Fine, you've told me, now go."

"But, sir," she pleaded. She wanted to know if Harry had found the weapon Sirius had mentioned last summer in Grimmauld Place. She wanted to know what had happened, why he was so angry. Why he was standing in the dark with that simmering bowl...

"You've told me, now go." He jerked her arm, thrusting her toward the door.

She pulled back. "But my wand!"

"Accio Hermione's wand," he said in a cold tone. She heard it lift off the floor, and a second later, he thrust it at her, poking her in the stomach. "Here is your wand." He yanked open the door, the light of the dungeon corridor bright compared to the dim silvery-blue light in his office. "Now go."

"Severus, please..." she pleaded as he thrust her out the door.

"Never use my given name," he snarled and slammed the door in her face.

Sighing, Hermione placed her hand on his door, willing for him to let her in, to talk to her. The silence of the dungeon corridor became eerie, and she realized that the hour was very late. She decided that if she were going to find out what happened, she'd have to ask Harry. Reluctantly, she turned and headed back to her common room, hoping that Ron had calmed Harry down.

Harry refused to talk about what happened between him and Professor Snape, only saying that he wasn't having anymore Occlumency lessons. Ever. Ron, instead of helping her find out what had happened, was instead actually focusing on his exams, having only just realized that they were only weeks away. Whenever Hermione tried to press Harry for information, he would bury his nose in a book...a school book...to avoid her, or read one of the career pamphlets that were strewn about everywhere. But Harry was moody, withdrawn, occasionally waspish, and she knew something was bothering him.

Try as she might, she hadn't been able to get him out of his funk or get him to tell her if he was having any more dreams about the room with the glass orbs.

However, Fred and George did manage to cheer Harry up. They'd promised to create a diversion so Harry could speak to Sirius through the Floo in Umbridge's office. That really lightened his mood and worried Hermione tremendously. Umbridge hated Harry, and if she caught him in her office, he would be expelled!

She tried to persuade Harry from such foolery, but he wouldn't listen to her. By the time History of Magic let out, neither Ron nor Harry were talking, or worse, listening to her anymore. At lunch, the boys sat with Neville and Seamus, so Hermione sat next to Ginny and the girls in her year, but it wasn't the same.

She went to Ancient Runes, silently pleading to any gods she could name that one of them would make Harry see reason. In Defense, she tried again to dissuade him. "I hope you've thought better of what you were planning to do, Harry,"* she hissed as she opened her book to chapter thirty-four, like the directions said on the backboard. Umbridge plodded in, looking harried and winded as if she'd run a kilometer after lunch. "Umbridge looks like she's in a really bad mood, already."*

Harry simply opened his book to chapter thirty-four and began reading, ignoring her.

She scowled, leaning over to him and whispering, "Dumbledore sacrificed himself to keep you in school, Harry,* do you hear me? And if you get thrown out today it will all have been for nothing."*

Harry didn't even flinch, snort or make any indication that he'd even heard her. Frustrated, she tried to concentrate on the book, but she couldn't. Umbridge sat down at her desk and stared at her and Harry, well, mostly at Harry, and if looks could kill, they'd have a funeral the two of them that evening.

Hermione lowered her gaze back to her book and tried to practice clearing her mind, emptying herself of all of her emotions, remaining focused. Harry had said that throwing off a Legilimens was like resisting the Imperius Curse...refusing to obey, denying the Legilimens access while pushing back. She'd been using her reading time in Defense for the mental exercises, and building a block around her emotions as best she could. She had no idea if it was working.

When the bell rang at the end of lessons, she set her book aside and leaned toward Harry again. "Harry, don't do it, please don't do it,"* she pleaded with him. He didn't answer her. She opened her mouth to try and make him see reason, but Ron nudged her shoulder.

"Give it a rest, Hermione," Ron hissed. "He can make up his own mind."*

She followed Harry from the classroom, ignoring Ron's reprimand. "Harry...please,"* she said, but she knew in her heart he was going to anyway.

The story of Fred and George's flight to freedom was retold so often, and in every corner of the castle, that Hermione knew that it would soon become a Hogwarts legend. She fully expected to see it mentioned in all its glory in the next edition of Hogwarts: A History.

The swamp Fred and George had created as Harry's diversion still remained, filling an entire section of the fifth floor corridor in the east wing. Although either Professor McGonagall or Flitwick could have easily removed the swamp, Hermione was glad in a way that they hadn't. It was a remarkably complex, very intricately woven bit of magic, and the swamp was truly both amazing and beautiful. Filch was given the task of punting students across the swamp in a flat bottom johnboat, and Hermione waited in the lines a few times simply because she enjoyed the scenic ride through the miraculous magical swamp. Another thing Hermione expected to see made immortal in future Hogwarts: A History editions.

Umbridge's door with the two large broom-shaped holes had to be removed because they gained too much attention, and it was rumored that the door and Harry's Firebolt were placed somewhere in the dungeons, guarded by a security troll.

Meanwhile, all over the castle students from every house, and in every year, seemed to be vying for the much coveted newly vacated position of Troublemakers-in-Chief. Filch carried a horsewhip in his hand when he wasn't punting students across the swamp, although as far as Hermione knew, he'd been unable to use it on anyone, there were so many breaking the rules. Umbridge was beside herself with solving the numerous crises and problems, and her Inquisitorial Squad tried valiantly to help her, but odd things kept happening to its members, frequently landing them in the hospital wing for days.

In addition, Peeves, who had never in all of Hermione's years in Hogwarts, was actually, happily, following Fred and George's last request as if given a command...to give Umbridge, well, hell. The poltergeist followed Umbridge everywhere. Well, everywhere but the Great Hall, pelting her with such things as sopping wet objects, dusty blackboard erasers, dungbombs, stink pellets, and even clumps of muck from the swamp while taunting her rudely and blowing raspberries.

On one occasion, when Hermione, Ron and Harry saw Umbridge trying to evade Peeves in the corridor as the poltergeist pelted her with socks full of chalk, they saw the Bloody Baron float into view. Peeves paused, one sock dangling from each hand and his eyes wide as he floated back a ways. That was until the Baron said calmly, "Missed a spot there," and leaned against the wall to watch.

Peeves' wide mouth stretched into a huge grin as he saluted the Baron, replying, "Yes, your bloodiness, Mr. Baron, Sir,"* as he floated after the retreating Umbridge. "Oh, Umbridge, oh, Umbridge, you can't be dodging Peeves. I can follow you, you see, wherever I please..."

And, even though Fred and George were not selling any more Skiving Snackboxzes in the corridors or loos anymore, it was evident that they were still for sale and available to any student in the school by the number of students who fainted, vomited, broke out in horrible boils, developed dangerous fevers, nose bleeds and swollen glands or appendages in Umbridge's class, that hardly anyone actually attended Defense anymore. Called Umbridge-itis, it was very likely to show up mentioned in the forthcoming editions of Hogwarts: A History as well.

And every time Hermione brought up the idea of Harry resuming his Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape, or asked Harry if he'd been having any more of the dreams, he got angry with her and refused to answer. Well, he would, but he'd make up some rubbish about his dreams being about Quidditch or Fred and George's escape.

But worse was the cold treatment she received from Professor Snape. He ignored her and refused to meet with her anymore. She'd written him apologies in his special ink on her papers, and told him what little bits Ron told her about Harry's mumblings at night when he was dreaming, but Professor Snape didn't seem to care anymore.

Not only that, but Hermione found herself having agreed to being both company and English tutor to Hagrid's baby half-brother, Grawp, a sixteen foot tall runt of a giant. And the centaurs of the forest didn't exactly like the idea of Grawp living there, any more than she did.

Telling Ron that she and Harry had missed the Quidditch game, Ron's finest hour, to go traipsing after Hagrid into the forest to meet his giant half-brother had gone quite well. Ron had literally gone from disappointed indignation to disbelief and incredulity by the time Harry and Hermione had finished their story. At least Gryffindor won the Quidditch cup. That was at least one thing worth celebrating. That was if Hermione didn't feel the weight of everything that had been happening pressing down on her when she should've been concerned with little more than revising for her upcoming O.W.L.s.

Author's Notes;

For any parts of the story in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix that I've skipped over or didn't mention, assume that it happened just as it did in the book.

Sentences with an asterisk are copied, well borrowed without permission, from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. No plagiarism is intended; I just used them so you'd know where in the book we're at and to show those conversations from Hermione's point of view.