Two: The Plan

Anti-Litigation Charm: It all belongs to JKR; I play for non-profit amusement.

Author's Notes: Neither HBP nor DH compliant.

Conversation in Italics signifies MindSpeech.

Reviews make me smile. ^_^

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The Problem with Purity

Chapter Two: The Plan

Harry blinked, looking horribly confused, but suddenly his expression cleared, green eyes sparkling brilliantly as he grinned at her.

"It was very memorable. Er, beginning of sixth year, was it?"

"End of fifth," she corrected. "My birthday's in September, remember."

"And you didn't want to give yourself a spectacular early birthday present?" he asked, batting long dark lashes as he looked at her with huge guileless eyes.

She laughed outright. "I was more concerned with the beginning of the school year than even your nigh-irresistible charm."

He offered her a mock pout, but it dissolved as he said, suddenly serious, "I wasn't at my best at the end of fifth year."

Laying a hand on his arm, she said softly, "But you were very much in need of comfort."

His forehead wrinkled. "A pity shag? That's low, 'Mione."

She shook her head. "One thing led to another. We got carried away once I was out of hospital."

He shrugged. "Okay. Just the one time?"

She smirked. "Or did we go at it like rabbits all summer once you were here?"

He couldn't seem to help grinning again. "Perhaps not. But maybe..."

"Your foot slipped from time to time?" she suggested dryly.

"But we're not official in school ... because I want to protect you from my enemies and..."

"From all the rabid fan-girls? And boys?" she asked pointedly.

Pink washed up his cheeks. "From anyone who might try to do you harm," he compromised.

"It'll do, I suppose," she agreed, adding philosophically, "especially since I had plenty of practice in fourth year."

Harry eyed her doubtfully. "So we should expect the Prophet to feature an article on the lurid and heartless way in which I stole you from Viktor Krum this time around?"

She laughed. "No doubt."

He sighed. "We're not telling Ron?"

It wasn't really a question. Ron had plenty of talents, but acting believably in this situation was not one of them, and they both knew it.

"Nothing comes out until it has to," she answered, meaning both to Ron and to the public at large. Harry nodded. "So: first time in the Room of Requirement after our O.W.L.s and occasionally since?"

"In the privacy of the summer months or with the aid of the Map during the school year. That makes the most sense. What are we going to do about hunting for those virgins?"

"I'd say leave it up to Ron, and we wouldn't have to worry about it again." Harry's lips twitched in appreciation of this sally. "But someone might wonder why you or I hadn't come up with useful information. I suppose we'll appear to be investigating but do our best not to make too much progress."

Harry gave her a short nod of acquiescence but lamented, "Why is it that these things always happen to me?"

"I'll do some research," Hermione offered promptly.

Harry snorted at this very prompt and typical response before asking, "Do you think anyone else has guessed? Albus?"

Fawkes hadn't said so, and she hoped that he would have given her that much, no matter how cagey he was being otherwise.

"Although one can never be certain about the headmaster," she answered aloud, "my guess is that he would want the situation controlled quite quickly to prevent Voldemort from getting the upper hand."

"I don't like to think of him forcing us."

It had been several years since Harry had had blind faith in the headmaster, but she could see that this idea disturbed him.

"I don't think he would have put us under Imperius and locked us in a bedroom together, but I suspect a massive guilt trip would have come our way; our scruples are apparently all that's standing in the way of Voldemort getting exponentially stronger magically."

Another frown puckered Harry's forehead. "What are the chances that it's the two of us? The last one Pure Adult was a century ago and now the two of us, who happen to be best friends?"

"It does seem rather fortuitous." She shrugged. "But I've found that the wizarding world tends to work in mysterious ways." Harry made a moue of distaste, and she continued, "I don't like that answer, either, but I don't have a lot more to give you right now, given that I didn't know anything about it until tonight. I've said I'll research, and I shall."

A grin broke across his face. "That rankles, I take it?"

She shoved his shoulder irritably, but he took the movement without protest before sliding back so that they were upright and touching once more.

"I don't like being ignorant about much of anything," she confessed reluctantly, "but in this case, it's yet another fact that all the wizard-born seem to know automatically, even if they don't have all the details."

"While we're left in the dark, waiting for someone to clue us in." Harry's voice had darkened considerably, and she knew he was thinking about his childhood and how literal the case had been for him.

"So," she immediately sought for a subject change, "regardless of any uber-libido that we don't appear to have experienced, why is it that you and I are here?"

He blushed again, and it really did make him look lovely. Or hot...however one was supposed to describe the sex appeal of a best friend. She knew herself well enough to be quite aware of why she hadn't got that many offers, but she had to wonder about the wizarding world's most eligible bachelor.

"Well, with Tom always after me," he said defensively, "there doesn't seem to have been much time for that sort of thing."

"I daresay you could have made some."

"So could have you!" he snapped.

She regarded him steadily. "Yes, I could have. Given that you're speaking to the wizarding world's other adult virgin, I think we've established that."

His nose wrinkled, and he began apologetically, "Ron..."

"Is a prat," she finished flatly. "You know that. Things come out of his mouth weeks before he censors them."

"You?" Harry asked politely.

"To start," she answered, "I'm Muggle-born, and while my parents hardly raised me to believe that I couldn't have sex before I was married, they did share their belief that the act itself should be meaningful, and I should be having it for a reason. I didn't experience that uber-libido, and I ... didn't get a lot of offers, and the person I am interested in would die if I said anything."

"Me, too," Harry said with relief.

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Well, okay, not that bit about your parents, 'cause obviously Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would've been relieved if I'd contracted an STD and died a horrible death, and yeah, I got a fair few offers, but the rest ... the rest was true," he trailed off lamely.

"So you didn't have out-of-control urges that threw you at someone you didn't really want rather than allowing you to wait for the emotional iceberg you do desire?"

"I wouldn't say h..." the Gryffindor boy cut off abruptly, studiously staring at his lap rather than her.

Hermione lifted his chin with her fingers so that he was forced to meet her gaze. "You're a little too easy to bait sometimes, Harry. I knew it was a 'he'."

Harry's eyes were huge. How he'd managed to go through so much and yet retain such surprising edges of innocence and guilelessness was beyond her.

"How?"

"I'm one of your best friends. I'm with you all the time. I know which way your eye strays."

"Ron..." Harry began frantically.

"Is a boy and remarkably clueless about things like that. I'm sure he thinks you're straight as an arrow. Although, really," she laughed softly, "after Cho Chang and 'wet', I think he might have bought a clue."

A reluctant grin was pulled from Harry. "That was a total disaster, wasn't it? We won't talk about how long it took me to get there?"

She smiled. "Of course not. Since, apparently," she cleared her throat, "you moved on to me, it would do just as well to not make too much out of the disaster that was Cho Chang."

One corner of his mouth tipped up, but he looked lost in thought, saying sadly, "I wish I knew...."

"He has to make his own decisions, Harry. He hasn't intimated that help would be welcome."

"You really do know everything, don't you?" He sounded more awed than angry.

"Your eyes tended to be more specific than general, but don't worry about it," she hastened to add when he began to look alarmed. "I know you really well, and you certainly look conflicted, if not downright angry half the time. I think your secret's safe."

After a moment, he let out the breath he'd been holding and nodded. "What about you? Who's this mystery bloke who's got your attention? Or girl," he corrected hurriedly, "because it could be a girl, and that would be totally fine."

She smiled at his flustered attempt to be open-minded. "Not a girl. Although, that does make me wonder just how this loss of virginity is assessed. Surely two girls must be able to lose their virginity just like a boy and a girl or two boys?"

She began to mentally flip through the books she had here and the ones she thought it likely she should take with her to Hogwarts for further research.

It was several moments before she realized that Harry was waving a hand in front of her face. Her gaze focussed abruptly on him. He was grinning.

"Earth to Hermione, Earth to Hermione."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "I have a lot to research. Now go away and let me finish packing."

"I thought you were done already," he accused, chin jutting out slightly in his belligerence. "You pestered Ron and me all day."

"Of course I was done," she said impatiently, "but that was before I had an entirely new subject to research. You think I can research this in my school texts or the extra Defence or Potions books I packed? Of course not...I'll need more books now."

He rolled his eyes, but obediently slid off the bed, his bare feet barely making a sound on the hardwood floor. With his hand on the brass knob of the door, he turned back.

"Hey! You haven't said who you like."

She just stared at him. Sometimes the wheels turned pretty slowly for Harry.

His eyes narrowed, and a determined look crossed his face. "All right, then. I'll figure it out."

"And I might even confirm it if ever you do," she offered with wry humour.

Waving an absent goodbye, Harry let himself out. She was pleased that she'd given him something non-Voldemort related about which to concentrate so carefully, although she was going to have to monitor where her own stare rested, apparently, so it wasn't too easy for him.

It took her almost two hours to go through the books she had in her room, slip into the library to select some from there, and finally select and shrink the dozen or so books she thought would be most useful. She added them to her trunk, no longer able to fathom how she'd survived the first eleven years of her life packing without magic.

Finally, she waved off the lights and buried herself under the covers of her bed. She cleared her mind, ensuring that she didn't dwell overly long on the non-existent relationship that seemed as unlikely to come about for her as for Harry, and was soon asleep.

---

The trip to King's Cross was happily completed with no cause for alarm. For three years running, they had discussed the merit of having Harry's reassuring presence on the train versus his presence making the train a larger target for Voldemort. As always, Harry had reluctantly remained a symbol for the masses if it meant parents were willing to part with their children and let them get their much-needed education.

Hermione always pointed out that unless she, Ron, Ginny, and handfuls of Harry's other friends were removed as well, the train would hardly be an untempting target. Giving Harry's friends permission to Portkey or Floo while everyone else had to go the long way was not a battle that even the headmaster had decided to engage in, and the argument had settled, as per usual, with all of them on the train.

This was not to say that they were left to their own devices; security had been visibly and invisibly increased, although it left Hermione wondering whether there had been more going on than she realized in her first years, when the only adults she had seen were the lady with the trolley, the conductor, and the driver.

Kingsley and Tonks had been officially dispatched by the Ministry to accompany the Express, and Hermione knew that there were a handful of Disillusioned Order members who were aboard and keeping an eye on things as well with two pairs dedicated solely to vanguard and rearguard. Several professors also accompanied them, word of their presence designed to help keep the students in line.

As for the students, the Prefects took it in two-person turns to patrol the corridors quite stringently, complete with examinations of the compartments at random intervals, while the Head Boy and Head Girl roamed the corridors in order to oversee the other students.

Many parents were greatly reassured by these measures, but the students tended more towards annoyed. The Ravenclaws felt that they couldn't get effective reading or studying done with all the interruptions, while the Slytherins felt there were a biassed number of checks done on them. The Hufflepuffs, meanwhile, were embarrassed to be caught snogging their significant others, and the Gryffindors hated having their first pranks caught and stopped before they'd even reached the school. Logically, everyone knew these measures were for their protection, but unless an attack occurred, they were going to gripe.

"Why can't Draco visit our compartment?" Tracey Davis demanded petulantly. In Pansy Parkinson's absence, she had evidently decided that it went to her to heckle the Gryffindors. She was in a compartment with Daphne Greengrass...the third member of Pansy's clique...as well as Crabbe and Goyle; this was where Draco spent his time when he wasn't patrolling. "We know he'd be fair about it."

"We're taking turns," Hermione explained as patiently as she could, given that this was the third time in as many rounds that the girl had asked. "Sometimes it's going to be Harry and me; the fewer questions you ask, the quicker we'll be gone."

This, fortunately, seemed to make sense to the girl, and they were able to make their cursory inspection...no Dark Artefacts or malefactors in sight...and leave.

Hermione resumed the discussion they'd been having before they interrupted the Slytherin compartment.

"I still can't believe that Ron can be so dedicated to Quidditch and yet barely manage to pull together a single paper for class." After each inspection they had completed, she and Harry had found Ron deep in discussion of his revolutionary plan to bring the Gryffindor team to glory, complete with diagrams and play-by-play descriptions of a year's worth of new strategies.

"And yet if you were in his place..." Harry stopped at her pointed glare. "All right, yes, you'd probably read every Quidditch manual ever written and come up with an adequate plan. But honestly, we can't all be like you, 'Mione."

"I suppose that would be a daunting prospect." She briefly envisioned a class full of twenty Hermiones and was sufficiently disturbed. "It's good that he's passionate about something."

"Even if it is Quidditch," Harry completed her unspoken thought.

"Even then." She smiled.

She knew it had come as a blow last year to the Weasley matriarch when Ron had chosen the Quidditch Captaincy rather than remaining a Prefect. What Molly didn't know (but would be as proud of him as Hermione was, she hoped) was that Ron had had the opportunity to choose to remain both.

The Ministry had chosen not to strike down Umbridge's lifetime ban on Quidditch that had been imposed upon Harry, Fred, and George. Given the political climate in wake of news of Voldemort's return and Fudge's cover-up, however, it was likely that Albus and Harry could have swayed the decision. Much as Harry loved Quidditch, though, he had recognized in that horrible summer post-Department of Mysteries that he needed to devote himself to preparing for the Final Battle against Voldemort. Quidditch, let alone captaining the Gryffindor team, would only interfere with that.

Ron had therefore been offered the Captaincy in Harry's stead, although that fact had never been formally stated. Whether or not Ron had known that, he had suggested that Harry be given his position as Prefect, leaving them both school leaders. It was true that Ron had gone for the position that Hermione was certain he was more qualified for, but she was touched that he had chosen to help Harry gain a position of honour rather than hoarding both of them to himself; she still remembered the personal glory he had seen in the Mirror of Erised in first year.

As far as upholding the Prefect duties went, Harry was somewhere between Ron and Hermione. The position put him on equal footing with Malfoy, which made life easier on everyone. Hermione and Pansy Parkinson, the other Slytherin Prefect, had finally joined forces of necessity and convinced the two boys that gratuitous point loss between the two of them only evened out and made it likely that Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff would win the House Cup. For the sake of their Houses, Harry and Malfoy had declared an unofficial ceasefire.

Ron had evinced no surprise when she and Harry were named Head Girl and Head Boy this summer and had even gone so far as to say that he had anticipated it since first year. Both she and Harry were deeply relieved by this show of maturity and intended to run with it for as long as they could.

Just as Harry's status as Prefect last year had made it easier for him to get about the castle and do whatever he needed to do to prepare for the fight against Voldemort, his position as Head Boy would function in that capacity as well. In fact, it was better-suited in many ways, as it afforded Harry his own quarters and gave him the autonomy to be almost anywhere in the school at almost any time without having to answer to any student. It also gave him a ready excuse for any professors who might question him.

Hermione intended to keep an eye on him to make sure he didn't get into too much mischief, and otherwise they would be able to complete their extra training sessions without resorting to detentions or elaborate excuses...which meant no more Remedial Potions to make everyone cross.

They arrived in Hogsmeade, and the fifth- and sixth-year Prefects went off with Hagrid, Tonks, and the first-years, ready to defend them in the unlikely event that they were attacked while on the lake. This left the seventh-year Prefects, Harry and Hermione, the Aurors, and the professors to see the rest of the students into the carriages and up to the safety of the castle.

Neither Harry nor Hermione ventured an opinion when the second-year students gawked at the seemingly horseless carriages, just climbed in and let the Thestrals pull them up to the castle.

Hermione had been able to see the winged, horse-like creatures since the beginning of sixth year. The summer after fifth year, Voldemort, either annoyed at his inability to access her parents or hoping to flush them out, had sent Death Eaters to attack her neighbourhood, and the Aurors and the Order had not been able to arrive quickly enough even with warning wards in place.

The Brophys, the lovely old couple who lived right next door, had been some of the first to be attacked, and Jim Brophy had died in her arms crying out for his wife who lay dead beside him. Hermione now knew why Harry didn't much want to talk about Cedric Diggory. They both knew that what had happened was because of Voldemort, but that couldn't alleviate all their guilt.

It didn't help that Hermione was desperately grateful that it wasn't her parents who had been attacked that night. Unfortunately, as everyone had taken the time to point out to her, it was impossible to put the Fidelius Charm on an entire neighbourhood who didn't know about the charm; the Muggles wouldn't have been able to get home without being told where to find their houses by the Secret Keeper, postmen wouldn't have been able to deliver the mail because they wouldn't have been able to find an entire neighbourhood, and it would have been a complete disaster.

What many people didn't know, however, was that Hermione's parents hadn't actually lived in that neighbourhood since the summer after fourth year. Whatever anyone else had thought, Hermione had immediately believed Harry's tale of what had taken place in the graveyard. She believed Voldemort was back, and that meant he would start killing Muggles again.

She had marched home and told her parents that they had to change their names and move.

They hadn't liked the necessity, although they had come to believe it when she had elaborated further. What had really rankled with them was the fact that Hermione intended to stay.

"This is my fight," she had told them. "You Know Who is threatening my world and everything I stand for. I can't leave."

"We could take you," her father had threatened with, she knew, desperate concern for the safety of his baby girl.

She had squared off with him and spoken with dead certainty: "I could make you forget that you even have a daughter."

She would have done, too, if they had forced her to it. She refused to lose her parents because Voldemort wanted to hurt her or Harry. Retrospect had led her to understand full well why Harry had always tried to push her and Ron away at the dangerous moments; he wanted to protect them from danger even if it meant alienating them because at least they would be alive.

When it came to her parents, if she hadn't been their daughter, they would have run the risk of being randomly hit like other Muggles, but her existence in their lives increased the danger exponentially. That meant she had a duty to get them away from the war that wasn't theirs and the danger that she represented.

They had acquiesced, finally, and she had relocated them with Sirius's help. He had been the only Order member she had been certain would help her without informing anyone else, and she was unwilling jeopardize her parents' lives in any way; ever since third year, her naïve faith in the absolute trustworthiness of institutions like the Order had been shaken. She didn't personally know every member, and she wasn't risking her family on another Peter Pettigrew.

With Sirius's guidance, she had become the Secret Keeper of her parent's old house and cut off all communication with them in the new location after having spelled them so that owls and other messenger birds could not find them. This way, a cursory inspection would show nothing suspicious or worthy of deeper investigation in England.

Closer inspection would reveal that her parents were no longer practising in the UK, but she had rightly assumed that Voldemort would be too dismissive to investigate the details of their Muggle lives, and as soon as their old house was conspicuously absent from the neighbourhood, Voldemort assumed he knew approximately where they were hidden.

By Easter of fifth year, her research into Occlumency and Legilimency had allowed her to safeguard the secret in her mind such that were it ever in danger from a Legilimency attack, it would be wiped from her mind. Once Fawkes had discovered the quandary this placed her in because it could mean her parents were left forever wondering, he had promised to retrieve them once the war was resolved should she be unable to do so.

Fawkes had also taken Crookshanks to them during the summer after fifth year, as Hermione had not wanted her parents to be completely defenceless. Although they could work no magic, she now had the relief of knowing that they were living with an excellent judge of character; Crooks wouldn't be fooled by an Animagus transformation or someone who looked innocent but wasn't.

She'd sent an explanatory letter, swore up and down that her half-Kneazle pet could save their lives, and made them promise to pay attention to him. She'd explained it all to Crookshanks, too, and he seemed to understand and be willing to go where he would be the most helpful. She missed him, especially when she was alone in bed at night and could have used a warm bundle of fur curled up at her feet, but that loneliness was a small price to pay to increase her parents' safety.

Their arrival at the castle shook Hermione out of her introspection, and she and Harry made sure that they were the last of the students to enter the castle; as soon as Hagrid had finished ferrying the first-years across the lake, he would come to feed and release the Thestrals.

She and Harry seated themselves at the foot of the Gryffindor table, as close to the doors and the back of the Great Hall as they could get. This was not where Hermione would normally elect to sit, but it afforded the greatest opportunity of keeping an eye on as many students as possible given that all the professors were on the opposite end of the room.

Although this was the last time that Hermione would ever be in the brightly lit hall with all these chattering students for the Welcoming Feast, she paid only half a mind to the Sorting, Albus's opening remarks, and dinner, focussing instead on the students she and Harry were supposed to be investigating.

They would need to be able to make periodic progress reports to Albus, and she and Harry, if it became necessary, would need to be able to obscure the truth. Until the truth was leaked from the Ministry, they were fortunately hampered by not revealing their object themselves: if three famous Gryffindors suddenly started questioning everyone in their year on their sexual habits, someone would get suspicious.

There were thirty-two seventh-year students: nine Slytherins, eight Gryffindors, eight Ravenclaws, and seven Hufflepuffs. Hermione found it rather odd to sit there and know that every single one of them had had sex before they turned seventeen. All the pure-bloods and wizard-raised children had likely known and accepted this from an early age, but she wondered how other Muggle-borns had reconciled the wizarding world norms with their non-wizard upbringing.

Still, it was hardly out of the common way for Muggle teenagers to have sex before they were seventeen, and learning to adapt was a large part of the Muggle-born's life at Hogwarts.

Now, at least she knew why Madam Pomfrey had put such an emphasis on "natural urges" and the fact that having sex once didn't mean immediate repeat performances were necessary. To a Muggle-born witch such as Hermione, a recommendation of "do it once and then stop" made far less sense than arguing either abstinence or safe sex. The nurse hadn't really been interested in the sorts of questions Hermione had, and while the Gryffindor girl had intended to do further research, she had thought it amounted to only idle curiosity, and she had never got around to it.

Here was yet another situation that proved that the more one researched, the better life was, but she supposed that there was no use now in wondering about what would have happened if she'd already been aware of the state that she and Harry were in. She hadn't known, and now they had to deal with the situation as it was, meaning that she and Harry had to come up with plausible alternatives to the two of them.

Thankfully, if all else failed, there was the uncertainty of age to fall back upon; despite what Remus thought, there was no guarantee that the Pure Adults weren't graduates; had her birthday been three weeks earlier, she would be an excellent case in point. But most attention would be focussed on her year-mates, and that meant learning more about them than Hermione really wanted to know.

Working in their favour was the teenager's propensity to lie, fabricate, and exaggerate when it came to his or her sexual exploits. They'd heard more stories than could be easily verified, and she strongly doubted that all of them were true. That being said, her house was pretty straightforward. The only member she wasn't sure about was Neville, and Harry or Ron might have a better idea there. Whether Ron wanted to know or not, Dean and Ginny had had sex by the latter's confession to Hermione.

Seamus and Lavender were a verifiable fact, as Hermione had walked in on them once. He was rumoured to have slept with the entire seventh year of Hufflepuff for a bet, but Hermione was sure that was nonsense, especially since Ron had revealed that Susan had turned the Irishman down. She had heard all about Ron and that girl from Beauxbatons from Viktor, who had heard it from Fleur, and Ron's behaviour had confirmed it. In the doubtful case that that rumour was false, Lavender had taken the time to advise Hermione that she had had a go with the redhead. It was rumoured that Lavender had bedded the entire seventh-year dorm, but in the case of Harry, Hermione knew it to be a lie, and she suspected the same of Neville.

Parvati, Padma, and Lavender had all been linked to Jacob Sinclair at the same time, and Hermione strongly suspected the truth of it based on the nauseating amount of details she couldn't help but overhear when Lavender and Parvati had giggled about it late at night for several weeks on end. Parvati and Lavender had enjoyed it so much that they had subsequently skipped the Ravenclaws entirely, and Hermione had once again heard far more than she wanted to. She had become exceedingly skilled at Silencing Charms, but she was very much looking forward to Head Girl rooms of her own.

Hermione focussed her attention on the headmaster as he announced the appointment of the new DADA professor: Nymphadora Tonks. The Golden Trio had known since mid-summer and were rather excited about having in the post not only someone they knew wasn't going to try to kill them but a friend and a skilled Auror. The Ministry had agreed to loan her out since she would double as more security for the school, the Order benefitted by the addition of one more of its members to the Faculty, and Hogwarts received a competent professor. There were definite benefits to having Kingsley as the Head of the Aurors.

Tonks, in all her violet-haired glory, rose and managed to knock her full goblet of pumpkin juice into Severus's lap. Of all the people in the Hall, Severus was one of the few who knew how genuinely clumsy the woman was. Hermione smirked to herself. It would be interesting to see how many students underestimated her as a result and had their arses handed to them in class.

As the burst of noise died down from this untoward occurrence, Hermione turned her attention back to her appointed task. Once her examination reached the other Houses, the situation became murkier. Such details were not ones that Hermione cared much about. Her friendship with Ginny kept her apprised of some of it, but Hermione had always tried to block out what her roommates had been nattering on about when it came to relationships.

From what she had seen, the Ravenclaws tended to date in-House, and she didn't hear many unfounded rumours about them; they tended to date people openly or not at all...or they were very good at hiding it. Hufflepuffs tended to date other Hufflepuffs as well as Ravenclaws and Gryffindors but avoided Slytherins. Slytherins avoided Hufflepuffs as well as Gryffindors.

The Slytherins were likely to be the real problem as what they did in their own House tended not to be shared, and their inter-House liaisons were similarly discreet. It would be very difficult for Hermione and Harry to separate the truth from the rumour. Which, in this case, was all to the good. It wasn't as though she and Harry couldn't be faulted for not chatting up Draco Malfoy and working out whom he had slept with.

Hermione couldn't quite believe that she was sitting in the Great Hall actively contemplating this subject. She desperately hoped that it didn't occur to Ron at some point that they could sneak around in Harry's Invisibility Cloak and try to catch people in the act. She'd make use of a Skiving Snackbox before she submitted to that ignominy.

Thankfully, the Feast was coming to an end, so she was able to put the topic out of her mind for a little while longer. She took care to smile at the newest members of Gryffindor. Ginny and Andrew Kirke, the two sixth-year Prefects, were ensuring that the students got up to the dorms safely, allowing Hermione and Harry to stay behind and wait for Minerva; unlike everyone else, they did not know where they would be living for the year.

The Head of Gryffindor made her way over to them once the Hall was empty of students, her fierce pride evident in her expression. She had known of their appointment before, of course, but their new capacities were now official.

Although Minerva might be very proud, her words were no-nonsense as she reached them: "I'll show you to your quarters."

They followed her out of the Great Hall and surprisingly, down the stairs into the dungeons. The older witch answered their unspoken question.

"While there are several Head Girl and Boy quarters spread throughout the castle, Albus informed me yesterday that these were the only ones not currently ... out of commission."

They both nodded, Hermione wondering if the headmaster had actually done damage to the other rooms. This location would facilitate their training sessions with Severus because trekking very obviously up and down more than seven levels had always been the most risky part of their lessons last year; it was Severus's life if Voldemort found out what the Potions master was teaching them.

They turned in the opposite direction from the Slytherin dorms and made their way through a handful of corridors until Hermione was pretty sure they were in the vicinity of Severus's own quarters and his private laboratory. She wondered how much grief he had given the headmaster over the choice or if the wily old man had managed to keep it from him thus far.

A gargoyle that most nearly resembled a grizzled and enraged dragon guarded the entrance to the rooms, and Hermione began to approve the headmaster's choice in earnest. Putting them in rooms that were normally given to Slytherins meant that they benefitted from all the Slytherin paranoia and safeguards including no chatty portrait to tell tales either in the corridor or at the door. Harry would have to get the Marauders' Map out later so they could explore.

The gargoyle didn't do anything so uncouth or potentially noisy as jump out of the way of the door; instead, it simply melted away, allowing them to pass through the unobstructed doorway. Once they were inside, it instantly reformed.

"At the moment, you need only touch it or cast the standard Opening Charm to get through from this side," their Head of House informed them. "You may set a password of your choice once I leave."

They nodded again and looked about their new quarters. This room was only slightly smaller than the Gryffindor common room and managed to avoid being unbearably Slytherin because it was done in tones of earthy brown as well as forest green. There was no hint of red or gold anywhere, but that was to be expected.

The room featured a large fireplace crackling with a cheery flame in front of which was a thick area rug, two comfortable-looking armchairs with small tables at their sides and ottomans at their feet, and a large couch with a low table in front of it. There were two desks and chairs on the wall opposite, accompanied by several bookshelves and cabinets for storage. The ceiling was high, but frequent wall sconces in regular intervals around the room chased the shadows away. Several beautiful seascapes...nary a painted person in sight...decorated the walls. Their luggage was currently piled in the middle of the floor. Doors punctuated each wall in the room: one straight ahead of them and one on either side.

"The facilities," Minerva said, gesturing them to the room opposite.

The bathtub put the Prefects' to shame; Hermione was certain that it would be possible to do laps in it. The room appeared to have two of everything else: showers, commodes, sinks, cabinets, mirrors.

"Those doors," there were two more, again on either side of the bathroom, and Minerva gestured to them, "lead to each of your bedrooms. The bathroom partitions itself off if you try to enter at the same time. The main door," she gestured back the way they had come, "is charmed to lead to whichever half of the bathroom is unoccupied or remain locked if they both are."

Hermione and Harry grinned at one another. Leave it to Slytherins to come up with such a clever room. Minerva led them back to the common room.

"I will leave it to the two of you to choose your bedrooms. I feel it incumbent upon me to point out that any untoward altercations with other students, especially Slytherins, would be detrimental to your standing as Head Boy and Head Girl."

"We realize that unity is one of the most important goals that we can have this year," Hermione spoke up for both of them, not certain Harry's response would be as appropriate. "And we're both very proud of our positions."

Minerva's stern expression softened, and she allowed a rare smile to grace her features. "You have certainly been a pride to your House, Hermione, Harry. Now," she turned brusque once more, "make sure you get a good night's sleep, and remember that you receive your timetables tomorrow morning at breakfast."

They both wished her farewell and watched as the gargoyle disappeared at her touch and reformed behind her.

"I can't believe they put my mum and dad in a place like this. It was practically an invitation to shag all the time."

Hermione stared blankly at Harry, stunned that this was the first comment to come out of his mouth, and then she dissolved into laughter. Harry soon joined her, and they managed to collapse on the couch in front of the fire.

"Not the first thought to cross my mind," Hermione confessed when she'd finally drawn adequate breath to speak. "Although I guess it will only further our plan when we need it to. Good to know the school isn't against such liaisons."

"You mean, you didn't read about it in Hogwarts: A History?" Harry demanded with mock shock.

Hermione's lips tipped up. "There was remarkably little on the sexual exploits of the Head Boys and Girls."

He almost achieved the deadpan delivery he was going for as he said, "Have you considered writing to the publishers and asking for an updated copy?"

She subdued the urge to clear her throat, saying evenly, "The very negative response I received surrounding the absence of house-elves suggests that such an attempt now would be equally useless."

Harry gaped at her, clearly caught between laughing and wondering if she was serious. There was no need for him to know that she was in deadly earnest. Their rudeness had been quite unwarranted. She rose from the couch.

"Shall we see what we're offered for bedrooms?"

The two of them traipsed into first one bedroom and then the other; they were virtually identical and both quite lovely. There was a large four-poster in dark wood, at least twice the size of the ones they had used in the Gryffindor dorms, another fireplace, several woven rugs, wardrobes, shelves, and cabinets.

The nicest feature, and totally unexpected, were the gloriously large windows that took up almost the entire wall opposite the door. They were evidently enchanted like the ones used at the Ministry, perfect for underground locations. They made their decision arbitrarily, given the nature of enchanted windows: Harry took the bedroom with the window that looked towards the Pitch, leaving Hermione with the room featuring the window that looked east to the Forbidden Forest.

They levitated their trunks into their bedrooms, Harry laughing at her expression when he suggested summoning Dobby and having him do it for them. Hermione got him back with a jibe about his using his superhero status to get out of the manual labour the rest of them had to perform.

Once Harry had finished with his own belongings, he came to help her with her books. Hermione was blissful about all the space she had to properly shelve her collection. Despite the numerous times she'd been in the boys' dorm, she couldn't quite fathom how they had all lived out of their trunks for six years. She, Lavender, and Parvati had promptly unpacked, their trunks had disappeared into storage, and chests of drawers...larger and infinitely more orderly than the trunks...had appeared at the ends of each of their beds. They each had a wardrobe, as well.

When Hermione had first been to the boys' dorms after being befriended by Harry and Ron, she had gone so far as to quiz Minerva on the apparent inequality. The professor had replied that the boy's dorms used to contain both chests of drawers and wardrobes, but as these tended to remain empty while the trunks were used instead, they'd done away with the superfluous furniture. Considering Ron, Harry, Seamus, Dean, and Neville for a moment, Hermione had withdrawn her complaint.

Back in their common room afterwards, the two of them examined the wards that were already in place. As anticipated, it would be difficult for even the headmaster to eavesdrop, and they reinforced the permanent privacy wards that would ensure that no hint of what they were doing reached the rest of the dungeons or anywhere else in the castle, blocking out all of the insidious eavesdropping spells that Severus favoured.

Blocking portrait-people was their next task; this was rather difficult to do if a portrait normally had a person in it, but empty seascapes and landscapes would generally accept the restriction easily, as people did not belong in their scenes. Nosy headmasters were thereby thwarted once again, and they didn't have to worry that he would get curious enough to send some poor painted person through in a little boat.

Rather than using a traditional password for the entrance, Hermione wove name runes into the wards. This was safer than an actual word, because it couldn't be guessed; when she was finished, she and Harry were the only two people who could get through the wards or give others permission to enter.

It took an excellent understanding of runes and a fair amount of power and finesse to properly modify a spell in this manner. If it was done improperly and no name was correctly recognized, not even the caster could break the spell. Or if the runes and the magic expended were too weak, anyone who identified themselves as the name in question would be accepted. Needless to say, Hermione made sure that neither of these potential disasters occurred, and to make it even more difficult for anyone to break through the wards, she'd combined several different kinds of runes.

Harry liked the added security and didn't seem to mind that it came at the price of Hermione being the one who would have to add anyone they subsequently wanted to be able to enter the rooms without their direct permission.

"Are you sure that won't bother you?" she asked again.

"Who exactly do you think I'm going to be inviting to our rooms that I don't want you to know about, 'Mione?" He laughed at her concern. He affected an overly contemplative expression. "Hmm. Admit that I'm friends with Ron or study Ancient Runes in my spare time.... That's a tough one."

She already knew his big secret crush, too. She let the matter go.

After a short discussion, they disabled the professor-override that was on the door. If Albus thought he really needed to see them, he was going to have to do so the old-fashioned way: knock or break in. Breaking in, they'd done their best to ensure, would take a small army a considerable amount of time.

Since no one in their right mind would make such alterations to the House common room door and doing so was beyond the ability of all but the most talented upper-year students, there was actually nothing officially written prohibiting such action, although Hermione wondered if that would change by the end of the year. Of course, that would necessitate Albus admitting that they'd locked him out.

After another moment's consideration, she compromised slightly.

Fawkes?

No, I am really a figment of your imagination and you are cuckoo.

Bird, don't get fresh with me, she said as sternly as she was able, narrowing her eyes as she said with false sweetness, You could have been conversing with your ... master.

He squawked indignantly, and she smiled.

Who cast a Bad Temper Charm on you? he demanded grumpily.

My current state is a direct result of your charming mental presence, love. I've a favour to request.

He snorted. Mentally, birds could snort quite well.

And you've done such a lovely job of buttering me up. What do you want, impertinent child?

Oh, come now. Pure Adult. I think we went to a lot of trouble to establish that. Sensing the mental eye-roll, tinged with amusement, she got to the point. Harry and I have disabled the professor-override on our door. In an actual emergency, you'd give Albus, Severus, or Minerva access, right?

There was full-fledged amusement now. I can't wait to see the look on his face. It shall be as you wish, Pure One.

She mentally scrunched her nose at him. Perhaps impertinent child wasn't so bad a moniker after all. Always a pleasure.

When she focussed on the room again, she found Harry looking at her oddly.

"I was having an intense mental discussion with myself?" she proposed hopefully.

He shook his head at her, but didn't pursue the topic.

They blocked the possibility of all incoming Floos and warded their bedroom doors against intrusion, making it possible for them to lock each other out, along with everyone else, if they wished. Hermione had refused to let Harry put up a Silencing Charm around his bedroom, insisting that she be aware when he was having a nightmare.

She suspected that if she double-checked tonight, she would find the charm in place. She knew he didn't like to be a bother, but she had grown up in a household where she was welcome in her parents' bed if she woke from a bad dream, and she couldn't fathom anyone being forced to suffer through nightly horrors alone.

He was underestimating her if he thought that she would just give up; she could be more stubborn than he was if the situation warranted it, and she would get through to him eventually if she had to dismantle the charm every night once he'd gone to sleep; with her course load, she'd frequently be up later than he was, and she didn't have to sleep nearly as much as she used to.

Once their bedrooms were done, they finished with the complex ward Severus had taught them which hid the use of magic; this would prevent anyone from becoming aware of large surges, unusual disturbances, or any use of Dark Magic, which could be a necessary part of learning defence against it.

They performed their nightly ablutions in a bathroom that had obligingly split into two, said their goodnights, and crawled into their respective beds.

She considered all the tasks that she would need to perform in the upcoming days. At the end of the week, perhaps, she would write the quarterly letter to her parents which the phoenix obligingly made impossible to track. This was the only communication they were allowing themselves while the war was ongoing. She wanted them to know that she was alive and well but didn't want to burden them with details that they would be helpless to do anything about; she could talk copiously about school but was hardly going to mention attacks, battles, and hours upon hours of special training for a Final Battle that they wouldn't want her to fight. Her first week of classes would therefore make useful filler for the letter.

Hermione spared a fleeting thought to wonder what Ron would think of their rooms, but her last thought as she surrendered to sleep was one of certainty that Severus would surely prefer this new location to the Gryffindor dorms.

---

Author's Note: I know that it's the "Marauder's Map" in the books, but since my fic is in Hermione's POV, I've decided that she automatically corrects it to the grammatically correct "Marauders' Map". It's just one of those things ;)

Chapter three, in which the trio survives their first week of seventh year, will hopefully be posted with a week or so. ^_^