And The Week Continues

My deepest gratitude to Southern_Witch_69 for her help and the effort and support she gave me on this story. And to Cocoachristy for helping me clean up my mess and making this story presentable. Thank you both very much.

And The Week Continues

~o0o~

By the time Hermione sat down next to Neville and Ginny for lunch, she knew that Wednesdays were going to be her worst day of the week. She had both Muggle Studies and double Dark Arts in the morning with an afternoon of double Potions with Draco to look forward to. If Hermione thought that Professor Amycus Carrow disliked her, she knew for certain that Professor Alecto Carrow despised her. Professor Carrow’s lecture had begun much like Snape’s had when he’d taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, but he emphasized the true nature of Dark Arts and the practicality of learning them properly.

Thursday proved to be a rather refreshing change with double Charms in the morning with Wizarding Language and Literature and double Herbology in the afternoon. At least in Charms they worked individually, even if Hermione sat with Neville on one side and Draco on her other. Having Draco opting to sit next to her in every class they shared was unnerving, and he was already getting on her nerves. Still, when Professor Flitwick announced that he was reviewing Shield Charms, Hermione relaxed, already having learned them her fifth year with the DA. Even Neville looked pleased. They practiced casting Shield Charms that wrapped around the body, not just a frontal barrier. Hermione was the first to cast a full half circle shield about herself, although surprisingly, it was Neville who was able to do it second. Hermione was congratulating him as they exited the classroom when Cillian approached, holding out his hand for her wand.

Hermione sighed, crossing her arms. “I’d hoped to work on Shield Charms with Neville in the common room until lunch.”

“You both managed them just fine in class,” Cillian stated.

Neville shifted his feet, looking at Cillian nervously. “We have our essay to write,” he suggested. “How about going to the library?”

“Works for me. Hermione?” Cillian asked, holding out his hand again.

“Fine,” Hermione snapped, slapping her wand in his palm, making the wand sputter sparks, which Draco found quite amusing as he turned and walked away laughing at her. Hermione bristled and turned quickly, heading for the library, feeling humiliated in front of everyone. She could hear Neville running to catch up to her, closely followed by Cillian.

Cillian reached her first, grasping her arm and pulling her to the side of the corridor. “Look here. Knock that off,” he growled.

Hermione roughly jerked her arm free. “You don’t have to embarrass me in front of everyone every day!” she hissed at him.

“You are not allowed a wand,” Cillian hissed back. “On his orders – not mine – and not Severus’. If the Carrows find out I allowed you a wand outside a classroom, it’s my neck, and you will be taken before the Dark Lord.”

Hermione felt the blood leave her face and her heart drop into her stomach.

“Yes. Exactly! You are being allowed the privilege of your education, providing you follow the rules,” Cillian stated. “So I expect you to follow the rules.”

Hermione looked over at where Neville stood waiting. “So as long as I am practicing my spell work in a classroom, I can have my wand?”

“Yes,” Cillian said, stowing her wand in an inside pocket. “I believe you were headed to the library.”

Cillian stood back to let her pass him, and Neville took that as his cue to approach her. “You all right? What’s that all about?” he asked as they started walking.

Hermione shook her head. “You remember the messages you got,” she whispered as softly as she could, hoping that Cillian didn’t hear her over the noise of the other students in the corridor.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, barely audible.

“I’m still a prisoner of the Dark Lord,” she whispered back.

Neville looked stunned. “No! But you’re here!”

They entered the library, finding a quiet place to work. “I’ll find a way to tell you later,” she leaned over to whisper to him as Cillian sat down at the table across from them. “I need to find some books. Watch my stuff?” she asked Cillian, rising from her chair.

Cillian rose too. “I’m to watch you, not your books.”

Hermione huffed and headed into the stacks to find relevant material for their essays. Cillian leaned against the sturdy shelves at the end as he watched her with a smirk on his face. Neville showed up in the aisle a moment later. “Okay, give,” he said softly.

“I can’t tell you everything now, but a parchment transported me to Snape like a Portkey, and I was captured by Death Eaters. Snape was forced to hand-fast with me. I’m supposed to have traded sides and joined the Dark Lord – but that’s not true. I am his pawn, and I think he plans to use me against Harry at some point.” Hermione realized that Cillian was watching with greater interest and stood up. “He’s coming. I’m not allowed a wand. Draco is supposed to befriend me. I’m allowed to be at Hogwarts because it’s the easiest place to control me, I suppose.” Cillian was walking toward them, so Hermione grabbed a book off of Neville’s pile. “This one won’t help, I’ve read it.” She handed him a thicker one. “Try this one,” she said, then mouthed, ‘I’ll tell you later.’

Neville still looked confused, but at least he had the presence of mind to drop the subject, even though he grabbed the book she’d discarded. For the rest of the break, they kept their conversation on Charms or Dark Arts as they worked on their assignments until lunch.

When Hermione entered the Great Hall with Neville, followed closely by Seamus and Cillian, she noticed Snape’s eyes were riveted to her, watching her as she took her place as far from MacCavish as she could because the first and second years were all huddled together at the far ends of the tables to avoid him, too. Hermione found herself sitting next to an awestruck second year on one side and Cillian directly in front of her, so it was impossible to have any kind of conversation with Neville and Seamus. Even Ginny was subdued and kept her head averted. Hermione ate quickly, excusing herself for the library again.

This time, Cillian had sighed heavily, grabbing his plate and following her. Madam Pince had tried to scold Cillian for carrying food into her library, but Cillian had quickly put her in her place and once again sat at the table across from her.

“What?” Hermione asked as he ate his food in sullen silence.

“Nothing,” he said between bites. “Is this how the entire year is going to be, you spending every spare moment in this library?”

“Yes,” Hermione stated, propping a book up between them.

“Aren’t you involved in any clubs? Groups or anything – I dunno – fun?” he asked.

Hermione lowered her book. “Fun? You mean like uncovering the truth behind the Chamber of Secrets, or freeing Sirius Black, or fighting Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries? Yes, I seem to get involved in one huge thing every year. As for clubs, I could always initiate something,” she said, watching him scowl at her suggestion.

“I didn’t mean that,” he sneered.

“Then what exactly did you mean?” she asked, acting demure.

“Don’t play coy with me; it won’t work. Your friend Ginny mentioned Quidditch,” he said, shoving his plate aside. A house-elf showed up, snatching the plate, but he hardly gave the elf any notice. “Charms club, Dueling club, Gobstones club, anything.”

Hermione was frowning at the way he ignored the house-elf. “Nope, too busy helping Harry Potter fight the Dark Lord, win the Triwizard Tournament, fend off Death eaters, and save the wizarding world to get involved in frivolous clubs. I told you, revising, reading, hanging out with my friends and occasionally defeating a Death Eater or two – that’s pretty much been my life.” She propped up the book as he sat back and scowled. “You could always read something, you know.”

“Merlin, now you’re sounding like the ol’ bat!” he exclaimed.

When the bell chimed announcing the start of lessons, Hermione packed up her things and hurried to class. On her way to Language and Literature, Hermione found herself walking behind Stephen Cornfoot and Morag McDougal from Ravenclaw, who were talking about the attacks on Kevin Entwhistle and his family. “My sister Isabel heard that Sue Li’s family was attacked as well. I tried to owl her, but Portus came back with my letter…” Morag was saying before she spotted Hermione and nudged Kevin to walk faster.

Although Hermione had always enjoyed literature, reading many of the classics in ancient Greek and Latin, it was hard to enjoy the day’s assignment with everyone staring and whispering about her. She realized that suspicions about her ran high with the other students. Morag was whispering to Claudia Ramirez, speculating as to why Hermione was allowed at Hogwarts when her friend Sue wasn’t and gossiping about her relationship with Snape. Some of the comments were becoming quite crude. Hermione buried her head in her book, translating the ancient Greek as Professor VanDerhauthe strolled around the room offering assistance. When Professor VanDerhauthe finally began the discussion, Antonia Gerund snickered at Hermione’s interpretation of the text and mumbled something about Muggle stupidity to Claudia, who cast her a disapproving glare.

Hermione squared her shoulders and ignored Antonia, remembering the books Snape had insisted she read before school started. When the class was dismissed, Hermione was nearly the first for the door, eager to get to Herbology and see a friendly face.

However, in Herbology, Draco once again insisted that he wanted to be her partner. “No,” Hermione insisted. “I prefer to work with Neville, Hannah and Ernie.”

Draco glared at her, obviously annoyed. “There is only four to a group, so you’re working with me, Crabbe and Goyle.”

“I’m not working with Crabbe and Goyle,” Hermione argued.

“Give it a rest. Yes, you are,” Draco insisted.

Hermione moved closer to Ernie and Neville. “No, I’m not. And if you insist on staying, you’ll have to be nice to my friends or you can go work with your thugs.” Goyle and Crabbe walked over, obviously hoping for trouble.

“Draco, why not back off?” Ernie asked, standing up straighter and squaring off to Draco protectively.

“MacMillan, stay out of this,” Draco sneered.

Hannah looked nervous. “It’s okay. We can ask…” she started to say, but Hermione unintentionally cut her off in her anger.

“No, Hannah, I really want to partner with you.”

“Fine, but I’m staying.” Draco grabbed a trowel and gardening knife. Crabbe looked at him as if he was daft.

Neville leaned close to Hermione and whispered in her ear, “I promised Professor Sprout that I’d help Hannah with Herbology. She did well enough in classes and really well with the practical, although she didn’t do well on the exam – cracked under the pressure. She cried to Professor Sprout about loving Herbology, which I know she does, so I kind of have to partner with her…”

“Mr. Malfoy, please join your housemates on the other work table,” Professor Sprout instructed before beginning her lecture on dividing mature Screechsnaps.

Draco gave Hermione a fierce glare and shoved Stephen Cornfoot into Isabel MacDougal, taking over the worktable next to Hermione. Crabbe gave Stephen a wicked glare before he confronted Draco about his attitude, and motioned Goyle and Pansy Parkinson over, too. Pansy immediately began complaining about the amount of time Draco was spending with Hermione.

The Screechsnap tubers in the pots wiggled, grinding their teeth in anticipation of being divided. As they started rolling the pots on their sides to loosen the dirt around the roots, the plants began screeching and snapping. “You all right there, Hermione?” Neville asked as Hermione toyed with her trowel, trying not to listen to Pansy and Draco, or Stephen complaining to the other Hufflepuffs.

“Just thinking about…” She looked nervously at Cillian leaning against the greenhouse door. She quickly borrowed his wand and cast an Occulocutus Charm on the four of them so they could hear each other over the noise of the Screechsnap. “Make any excuse to have a study group for class, will you?”

Neville nodded. “Sure, why?”

“So we can talk, like we did Monday night,” she suggested.

Hannah set the pot she’d prepared for the tubers on the worktable. “I would really appreciate being in the study group. Count me in! Ernie and I will both come.”

“Might not be a bad idea,” Neville said, smiling, deftly removing a cluster of Screechsnap tubers from his pot. Immediately, the three plants began screeching. “Besides, N.E.W.T. year is supposed to be the hardest year. We can have a study group for each class. We can meet in the Room of Requirement. That way, we’d have all the books we need and enough chairs for everyone who shows up!”

“We’ll get caught!” Hannah exclaimed. “Wouldn’t it better if we lay low for a while, use the library or an old classroom?”

“Get caught doing what? Studying?” Neville asked, amused, yanking a cluster of young Screechsnaps from their parent root. “It’s perfect.”

“Neville!” Hannah admonished him. She carefully took the Screechsnap Neville handed her and dropped it in the pot. Ernie started filling it with dirt and dragon dung.

Neville looked at her, grinning. “What? It’s just a study group!” He’d obviously spoken to Hannah and Ernie about restarting the D.A. again.

Hermione caved. “Okay, after dinner we’ll meet in the courtyard and see who’s interested.”

Ernie smiled exuberantly. “So the D.A. gang will…”

“Hush, Draco is trying to listen. If he leans too close, he’ll be inside the area of the spell,” Hermione whispered. Her Screechsnap nearly bit her fingers as she pried the tubers apart. “Neville, why are you so insistent on getting the D.A. reactivated?”

“Look around. Do you see how many of our classmates are not attending this year? Dean had to go in hiding because his family was killed in an attack. Ron and Harry are hiding, too, aren’t they? Wayne Hopkins’s parents are dead. He only survived because he could Apparate. But he couldn’t take everyone at once, so his mum insisted that he take his little brother and go when the Death Eaters arrived. He and his little brother managed to escape to our house, and Gran hid them with a friend in St. Petersburg.”

“I had no idea!” Hermione said, aghast.

Hannah handed her two pots. “Yeah, it’s bad. Justin Finch-Fletchley had to force his family to move to Alexandria, Egypt,” she said, helping jam the tubers Neville gave them to plant. “William Summers owled me after I sent him an owl to see if he was all right. He was terrified. His family had gone biking in Spain, and he was afraid to come home. Gran sent her friend Marge down to help him befuddle his parents so that they wanted to bike all the way through coastal Spain, down across the south of France and through Italy for a year! If You-Know-Who wins this, he plans on becoming an Italian permanently!”

“Remember Arnold Goldstein?” Ernie asked while he covered the roots with soil and dragon dung. “He managed to Floo over to our house with his mum, two sisters and his kid brother when his house was attacked. No one knows what happened to his dad. Mum was terrified. We got an owl five minutes later saying that our house was going to be searched. My older brother, Duane, took them away, and I haven’t heard from him since. Then Mum got an owl from the Ministry only minutes after Duane left, claiming we were harboring criminals, and Mum was threatened that if she didn’t hand over the Goldsteins, she would be sent to Azkaban. Two Death Eaters came and tore up the place, and Mum is now on the restricted list. Lisa Turpin’s dad is on the wanted list, and no one knows where they are – they’ve simply vanished.”

“I spoke to Terry Boot, too. Mandy Brocklehurst’s and Sue Li’s homes were broken into. The Dark Mark was burned into the walls of their lounges,” Neville said quietly. “There are so many we know who have been attacked. If you are Muggle-born or have a Muggle-born parent, you’re a target.” He slyly looked over at Draco, but the screeching of the Screechsnaps were still almost deafening. “If you have a grandparent who is Muggle-born, you can register yourself and hope that you pass the requirements, but that’s no guarantee you won’t be sent to Azkaban – or worse. It’s been awful.”

Hermione suddenly felt dizzy. “So many – they were all attacked? Their families?”

“The Death Eaters have been really active since June. The raids started the first of July and haven’t stopped,” Ernie explained. “The Ministry was trying to stop them, but the Death Eaters got control of the Ministry, and now their actions are sanctioned!”

“Anyone who’s known to be a Muggle-born sympathizer is on a restriction list,” Hannah stated. “Susan was telling me that several people at the Ministry were arrested.”

“Arrested?” Hermione gasped. “What for? Why?”

“Being of the wrong blood, associating with undesirables, or standing up to the wrong people,” Neville stated, deftly dividing the next set of Screechsnap tubers. “You’re only safe if your family can prove at least two or three uncontaminated generations. Some of the pureblood families are even turning in their own relatives, trimming their family trees of undesirable branches,” he sneered. “If you do, you get a commendation for your contribution to the effort.”

Hermione lost her balance, and she started feeling her heart pound in her chest. “The Weasleys?”

“Fred and George are fine,” Neville stated, holding her arm to steady her. “George told me that Percy was promoted again, and his brother Bill is okay since he works for Gringotts. The Death Eaters aren’t messing with Gringotts – yet. Ginny’s here, they think Ron’s home sick with spattergroit, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are being watched.”

Hermione turned back to her wailing Screechsnap tubers. “I had no idea it was so bad.”

“It’s bad,” Hannah said, fighting with a newly divided Screechsnap tuber.

Ernie leaned closer as he topped off the pots with extra compost. “Harry is wanted by the Ministry, and the Daily Prophet runs his picture on every front page, calling him a dangerous miscreant. The raids are not reported outright, but if you read the obituaries and property sale ads, you can piece together who was attacked. It seems that a lot of people are dying, or moving away permanently. Job openings are advertised, but the ads say Muggle-borns need not apply. There has been a lot of chaos these last few months, and it’s still going on.”

Hannah wiped her face, smudging dirt on her cheek. “I for one am terrified for my friends, and Neville is right, we should see who’s up for reinitiating the D.A.”

“I think that we should be ready,” Ernie added, the determined look in his eyes out of place with someone filling pots with manure.

“Gran told me to stand up for what’s right, but to watch my back. So I’m going to do just that. And when Harry’s ready, I will be, too.” Neville passed two more plants to Hannah for potting. “So are you in, or are you one of them now? The Hermione I know wouldn’t sit still while her friends were in trouble or in danger; she’d fight.”

“I’m in, but…” Hermione looked at Draco, then over at Cillian. “I’m followed everywhere, and that may be a problem.”

Neville smiled. “We can work around them,” he said, rolling his eyes in Draco’s direction.

When the potting was completed and moved to the side, Professor Sprout announced what she wanted for her essay and dismissed the class. Draco followed Hermione closely as they all exited the greenhouse, and once outside, he pulled her aside. “Why are you being difficult about all this?” he demanded.

“Difficult about what?” she asked him, waving her friends off. Neville and Ernie stayed, watching them from only a meter away, yet close enough if Draco tried anything.

Draco looked up and sneered at her friends. “Your protectors? How sweet.”

“Yes, my friends. And they are concerned. You and I don’t have a history of getting along, so I suspect they are being protective.” Hermione crossed her arms. “Besides Crabbe and Goyle are standing behind you, as usual, so I suppose it’s even,” she said, lifting her chin toward his thugs. “Make this quick. I want to clean up before dinner.”

Draco seemed to seethe with frustration. “Why are you causing trouble? I told you we were going to be partners in class.”

Hermione gritted her teeth. “We’re partners in Potions, and you’re sitting next to me in nearly every class we have together. It’s like we’re suddenly friends or something, and it’s weird.”

“Why is it weird?” he asked. “You knew that is the way it would be.”

“Draco, we are not friends. You have never been my friend. You hate me – everything about me – and suddenly you want to pretend you’re my best mate?” she replied. “I know it’s an act – they know it’s an act.” She swept her arm indicating them, her friends behind her, and the two waiting behind him.

“I was told…”

“Look, don’t smother me. I don’t like it,” she said, cutting him off.

She turned to go, but he caught her arm. “All I want is to get along and do what I was instructed to do,” he snarled. “We got on fine at the house – why be difficult now?”

“At the house I had no choice. I was a prisoner, remember?” she asked, jerking her arm free. Neville and Ernie drew their wands, and Cillian stepped in closer as Crabbe and Goyle instinctively drew theirs.

“Stop, no, stop!” Hermione shouted, holding up her hands out between them to halt any fighting. “No, dueling. I’m going up to the tower to clean up. Draco, this is ridiculous – enough.” She quickly stormed off, followed by all six guys, Crabbe and Goyle lagging behind, complaining loudly, apparently confused. She ran all the way to the Headmaster’s tower.

Severus looked up as Hermione stormed in. “I’m filthy, covered in manure, and I’m going to go clean up,” she said as she strode across his office.

“By all means,” he replied dryly. “I wasn’t going to stop you.”

Her bath was drawn by the time she entered the loo. Feeling grateful to Peren, Hermione stripped quickly and washed up, finding that a clean set of school robes were waiting for her when she’d finished. When she entered the bedroom to put away her books, she saw Peren kneeling in front of the trunk Snape lent her, busily stowing her things away. “Peren, wait! I still need my Herbology and Charms book. Maybe you should let me…”

“But, mistress! Peren is being a good house-elf and is taking care of her mistress,” she replied. She was looking up at Hermione as if she’d been scolded.

Hermione walked forward and sat on the edge of the bed. “I can appreciate that, but I still need my things. How about if you wait on putting my school things away until I am getting ready for bed, and let me handle it during the day. Is that fair?”

Peren nodded and smiled. “Yes. You is the most fair mistress Peren ever has. You is nice to Peren. I only wants to be a good house-elf to you.”

Hermione smiled, sorting out what she wanted put back into her bag, and opened the school trunk, pulling out her homework planner and a revision guide. “Peren, have you seen my Galleon?”

“Your gold coin, mistress?” Peren asked.

Hermione looked at her and nodded. “Yes, my gold coin.”

“The one that vibrates,” Peren said, nodding. “I puts it with the paper that writes and the quill that spits.”

“The paper that writes?” she asked, and her eyes grew large. “Show me – get me the paper and the coin.”

Peren closed the trunk, turned the third lock to open the third compartment, and started to dig deeply into the contents, finally pulling out a piece of parchment and her D.A. Galleon.

Hermione stared at the parchment, astounded. “Where did you find this?”

“It was in you trunk, mistress,” Peren said, pointing at her old school trunk. “I sees it when I was cleaning your clothes.”

“Hide it,” Hermione whispered. “Peren, please, tell no one about this.”

“Of course, mistress! Peren keeps your secrets,” she said, bowing, then quickly buried the parchment at the bottom of the trunk as Snape walked in.

“Dinner, Hermione,” he said smoothly, and Hermione grimaced, now too well familiar with that tone of his voice. She wondered what he’d overheard, if any, and if he remembered about the parchment. He was scowling as they walked.

“Sir, I…?” she started to ask and was cut off short when he stopped walking.

“I thought that I…” he started to say, and then inhaled deeply, letting it out slowly. “How many of the Weasleys’ products do you have?”

“A fair amount,” she admitted. “They are my friends…”

“I know that, Hermione,” he snapped, cutting her off. “I never took you for one who indulged in pranks and tricks.”

“I don’t!” she exclaimed. “Okay, I’m not into them like Ron is, but occasionally I find some of it funny. I have a quill that spits stars, a parchment that insults you when you try to write on it, a reusable hangman game, and some daydream chocolates. Oh, and a trick wand that shoots stars, stuff like that. Why? I’d never use it against you.”

“Is this more of the stuff I found on you the night you were dumped in my lap, or is it new?” he asked wearily.

Hermione sighed. “No, it’s stuff I had in my school trunk. I also had a lot of their defensive trick stuff in my pockets, you know, for… protection. But Harry, Ron and I were getting ready to go into hiding, and we thought that they would be helpful, like the Invisibility Boots and Headless Hats. The Swamp Ooze, Decoy Detonators and Blinding Flash were in case we needed them.”

Severus nodded and resumed walking. “I had better not see any of these things on or near your person. Am I clear?”

His tone brooked no argument. “Crystal, sir.”

He pushed open the staff door to the Great Hall, but his arm still blocked her way. “I mean it, Hermione, not a one.”

Dinner was a subdued affair since MacCavish had chosen to sit next to Seamus and Neville, trying to engage them in conversation. Hermione, who was already sitting between Neville and Ginny, spent most of the time facing Ginny to avoid MacCavish’s glares. Neville ate quickly, nudging her when he was ready to go. Hermione and Ginny collected their bags and followed him to the courtyard, followed discreetly by Cillian. Neville led them to the center of the courtyard, straddling one of the benches to face her. “I told a few people about the study group,” he said quietly.

“How many?” Hermione asked, alarmed.

“Just the original group,” Ginny admitted softly. “Or what’s left of us.”

“Neville, I’ve been giving this a bit of thought, and well, I think we should use Seamus’ idea of house commanders – only call them coordinators or something benign,” Hermione suggested. She pulled out her homework planner and asked Neville to tell her his schedule. She had just finished writing his down when Hannah, Susan, Seamus, and Ernie came walking over. Terry Boot and Michael Corner also showed up with Luna only moments later. Hermione looked up at Cillian and nearly cringed at the dark expression on his face.

“So are we really going to have a study group?” Michael asked, sitting on the ground at Ginny’s feet.

“What we need is an idea of how many in each house are interested and who they are,” Neville said, taking charge. “Hermione will make a sneak sheet like she did last time, but I’m adding my own spell to it. Gran taught me a wicked one – a variation of the Langlock Curse, the Impotinfantis Genit Hex. When you try to snitch, your tongue sticks and your nose swells so you can’t speak – or rat. It’s great.”

“Considering all the Death Eaters in the school, do you really think this is a good idea?” Terry asked, looking at Cillian nervously.

Several people turned to look at Cillian, and he waved, making all of them quickly look away. “It’s a study group. We’ll pick which classroom to meet in and be sure to have all your books,” Seamus stated sternly. “When we know everyone’s schedule, and the Carrows realize that all we are doing is studying, then we’ll start on the other stuff.”

“So, Seamus and I will find out who in Gryffindor wants to be in the study group. Luna, you, Michael and Terry ask around Ravenclaw, and Hannah, you, Susan and Ernie see if anyone in Hufflepuff is interested. If they are, they have to sign the Sneak Sheet. It’s to protect all of us if any one gets caught.”

“So, what are we going to study tonight?” Luna asked as she handed Hermione her class schedule.

“I think full body Shield Charms would be in order,” Ernie stated, drawing his wand.

The rest drew theirs. “Good idea,” Luna agreed.

Neville looked at Hermione. She’d been adding Luna’s schedule to her planner, cringing when the others drew their wands. “Hermione, you did the best Shield Charm in class. Maybe you could just help the others after you finish getting the class schedules down,” he suggested.

Hermione looked up at him relieved. “Sure, Neville,” she said, smiling, then mouthed, ‘Thank you.’

‘No problem,’ he mouthed back. “Hannah, you next,” he said, indicating Hermione’s planner.

The next morning, when Hermione was in Arithmancy, Draco stormed into Severus’ after Cillian’d entered, and started pacing, obviously agitated. “That girl is absolutely impossible!” Draco said, throwing up his hands.

Severus looked up briefly and then resumed writing. “I presume you are referring to Hermione.”

Draco didn’t even stop in his rant. “She defies me, challenges my attempt to befriend her and won’t partner with me in class – choosing to be with Longbottom. Longbottom! I can’t get her to agree with anything!”

Cillian lounged in one of the chairs facing Severus’ desk, smirking as he toyed with a bent quill.

“What did you expect?” Severus said as he made notations on the most recent requests from Alecto. “You spent six years hexing, jinxing, and cursing each other, and you always called her Mudblood. Hellebore! You even Muggle brawled in your third year.”

Draco stopped and stared at him. “She hit me – for no reason…”

“Really? No reason?” Severus sneered and then looked up at Draco patiently. “Look, you’ll have to earn her trust if you want to be friends. All I’m asking you to do is to look out for her, keep close, and help Cillian keep her out of trouble.”

“Why do you care anyway?” Draco asked.

“She is my wife, Draco,” Severus said, resuming his parchmentwork. “The Dark Lord wants her alive and appearing to be on our side. He wants Potter to think that she has switched sides! I’ve had to talk to Crabbe twice now about his attitude!”

“She’s bloody impossible!” Draco exclaimed, resuming his pacing. “Okay, we’re partners for Potions, Charms, and Transfiguration. During Muggle Studies, we sit next to each other, but in Herbology – she wants to partner with Longbottom, that wet prat! It’s easier to simply ignore the Mudblood!”

“She has always had a soft spot for Longbottom,” Severus stated, smirking at him. “Need I remind you that the Dark Lord gave you this task, personally.”

“Yeah, I know,” Draco said, frustrated. “We got on well enough at your house. I thought I’d won her over. Apparently not!”

“Use your Slytherin cunning, Draco. Win her over,” Cillian suggested.

“That may be easier said than done,” Draco spat.

Severus ignored the outburst. “You’ll manage.” He folded the parchments and sealed them with wax. “So other than that, how is she doing? Is she cooperating in class?”

“She keeps her head down around the Carrows, if that’s what you mean,” Cillian replied, and Severus nodded. “She only answers when spoken to and rarely raises her hand. I do warn her before each class. Amycus really wants to get her in detention.”

“I’m going to have to do something about that eventually,” Severus said, glad that Hermione was trying to control herself in Muggle Studies and Dark Arts. He picked up the next letter and scowled. “Shite, I have to meet with the governors tomorrow and have to be away from the castle,” he said, frowning. “I’m counting on you,” he said pointedly to Cillian.

“What’s up with the governors? Should I owl my dad?” Draco asked, putting his hands on the back of the chair facing his desk.

“Lucius and I have already discussed this. Umbridge has managed to get herself placed on the Board of Governors! I hate that witch,” Severus snarled.

“But she sides with us at the Ministry, and Rosier said she’s really an asset,” Draco said, confused.

He hadn’t minded Umbridge all that much, apparently. “I don’t trust the witch, never have,” Severus stated. “You best be going, Draco.”

“Right,” Draco said. “I’ll send my owl and tell…”

“Our Master that things with Hermione are as we predicted and that she is responding as we anticipated. You are to tell him you have things under control,” Severus strongly suggested. “Do you understand?”

“Good enough,” Draco said. “Shall I extend any message for either of my parents?”

“Yes, tell Narcissa you’ll brew her shampoo,” Severus stated with an edge of finality. “I don’t brew beauty products.”

Draco leaned on the back of the chair again. “Sure, but mine doesn’t come out like yours.”

“Use rainwater in your base, and use a fork when pressing the knipafolia flower roots, and when you crack the Lavender, don’t smash it, roll your pestle,” Severus suggested. “And make sure your cauldron is clean.”

“That’s it?” Draco asked, amazed.

Severus scoffed, watching his confused look in amusement. “I gave you the directions, but yes, that’s it. That is where you always make your mistakes. Do that, and she’ll stop pestering me about it.”

When Draco left, Cillian dropped the quill. “So, Umbridge is now a school governor?”

“Apparently,” Severus sneered, reading the next parchment from Amycus.

“You don’t like her?” Cillian asked.

Severus crumpled up the offending letter. “She uses people to get what she wants, but it’s a façade. She is on her own agenda. She wants me to reemploy all of her insipid decrees.”

“Some weren’t too bad,” Cillian scoffed.

“Most were ridiculous,” Severus stated. “Is Draco trying to befriend Hermione?”

Cillian crossed his leg. “Yes, he tries.”

“What’s the problem then?” Severus asked.

“She doesn’t like him all that much.” Cillian threw the bent quill at the trash receptacle. “I have to get back before her class is over. See you at dinner?”

“Yes,” Severus said, leaning back in his chair.

Author’s notes:

In regards to Hannah Abbot’s appearance, I’ve decided to make Hannah a pureblood by birth and her step-father Muggle-born, qualifying her for attendance but offering a possible explanation regarding the death of her mother. JKR has on three occasions changed Hannah’s blood status: in 2001 she indicated that Hannah was Muggle-born and in 2007 stated that she always thought she was pureblood, then later ‘compromised’ by claiming Hannah was half-blood; therefore, I’m taking the liberty to say she meets the three generation requirement for enrollment.

The Latin I use comes from: http://www.archives.nd.edu/cgi-bin/lookdown.pl

The Occulocutus spell was derived from using:

Occulo: to cover, hide, concealed, private; N. as subst. concealment, secrecy, a secret.

locutus: to speak in conversation; to tell , say, talk of.

Impotinfantis Genit hex was derived from:

Impotens: feeble, powerless; with genit added means; not master of, unable to command oneself, violent, unrestrained and poweless

Infans –fantis, means: speechless, unable to speak.