Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Still not mine. Drat! Nor am I making anything from this.

Thanks again to LadySunflower (beta) and numerous reviewers.

Chapter 6

"But we want to see her!" Hermione jerked awake at the shouted demand.

"The Headmaster has ordered that there will be no visitors, Potter, Weasley. I can't let you in, I'm afraid. She'll be fine, don't worry." Madam Pomfrey was blocking the door, her silhouette visible through the curtains drawn around Hermione's bed.

"Why would Dumbledore order that? We're her friends; it'd help her to see us." Ron appeared to be letting Harry do the talking, perhaps hoping to use his tall, lanky frame to intimidate the school nurse.

Madam Pomfrey drew in her breath to answer, but let it out again as the very man in question arrived behind the boys.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but Miss Granger's isolation is necessary. I will explain why later, but for now, return to the Great Hall, as I do believe two young men like yourselves need breakfast." Dumbledore had obviously given them a suitably powerful look, as they left with no further complaints.

Hermione heard the old wizard come closer, and the curtains parted, revealing Dumbledore's face as he adjusted his half-moon spectacles that perched on his long, crooked nose. "Good, you are awake. Madam Pomfrey tells me you are sufficiently healthy to venture out for a vital trip. Your wand was broken, so you'll need a new one, both for your own protection and the lessons in the year ahead."

Dumbledore pulled his head back, closing the curtains to allow Hermione to dress.

"Sir, who is to accompany me to Diagon Alley? Healer Pye told me that the Ministry is after my blood, so I can't go alone." Hermione asked, her voice muffled as she pulled on her jumper.

"Quite right. I will go with you." Dumbledore's tone was confident and quite justified in being so. No one in their right mind would attempt to attack someone under his protection. Dumbledore was the only wizard with the power to match Voldemort himself, and even the Dark Lord did not have the long years of experience that Dumbledore had acquired.

After Hermione had finished dressing, they set out for Diagon Alley, using a temporary Floo connection to do so. The Aurors patrolling went for their wands at the sight of Hermione, but hurriedly raised their empty hands as they noticed Dumbledore.

"Um, sir? Where is Mr. Ollivander? The Daily Prophet said that both he and his wands had vanished," Hermione asked as they approached the boarded-up exterior of the shop that had, until recently, been the home of the finest quality wand shop in Europe.

"The last place Voldemort will look," Dumbledore said and then leaned close to Hermione, tickling her ear with his beard as he whispered more. "Ollivander's can be found in Diagon Alley." As soon as Dumbledore had finished saying that, the boards vanished, revealing the wand shop in its usual drab splendour, with the solitary wand on display in the window.

"The Fidelius Charm? So simple, yet brilliant. Right under everyone's nose." Dumbledore chuckled at Hermione's compliment and waved her inside.

Mr. Ollivander stood in front of the shelves of wand after wand, his silver eyes fixed on Hermione as soon as she stepped into the shop, ignoring Dumbledore completely.

"I've been waiting for you, Miss Granger." Hermione shivered at the old man's words. Ollivander had always struck her as creepy, knowing everyone's name without being told. Even as someone scornful of Divination, she had to wonder if he had Seer's blood.

"Shame about your old wand; it was a particularly fine. Fourteen inches of intricately carved vinewood with a dragon heartstring core, unparalleled for casting hexes, as I recall." Ollivander seemed to think for a moment more. "Such a tragic loss, too." He leant close, reflecting Hermione's face in his misty eyes. "It's torn your soul wide open, you know. The dark is creeping in; will it control you or you control it?"

Hermione shuddered at his words, stepping back and bumping into a stack of wands, scattering them onto the floor. She crouched down, grabbing one of the boxes to start clearing the mess up. Ollivander moved fast, hand closing in a steel grip around her wrist.

"Open it," he hissed, gesturing to the box in her hand as he released her from his grasp. Hermione did as instructed, blinking at the wand revealed. It was identical to her previous wand, down to the last strand of the vine engraved around it. She reached into the box, closing her hand around the handle. Hermione bit back a scream as it seemed to grow red hot in her grip. A flash of bright light blinded her, leaving her to blink away the purple afterimage. The wand was once more quiescent, warmed only by her hand. At Ollivander's prompting, she tried it out, casting her favoured bluebell flames, only to almost burn the shop down in the instant before she extinguished them.

"What the fu..." Hermione cut herself off, mindful of exactly whose presence she was in. "What core is in this wand? I've used Harry's before and never had a reaction as violent as that. Phoenix feather is meant to be the most powerful magical core around, yet this is almost uncontrollable."

"Chimaera scale." Both Hermione and Dumbledore sucked in a startled breath at that revelation. There was no other wand in existence with that core and with good reason. While both very rare and very powerful, chimaera scale was not only dangerous for those it was used against, but also for the wielder. The last wand with that core had immolated the wizard who used it, together with the surrounding area. Hermione's new wand slipped from her numb fingers, clattering on the floor.

"Are you insane? Honestly, to supply a budding Necromancer with a wand like that, you must be." Hermione retreated from the apparently mad man in front of her until her back was pressing against the door.

"If you had reacted in any other way than you just did, Miss Granger, we'd have been forced to kill you for that very reason. While this wand may provide you with near limitless power, it will also serve as a buffer for your Necromantic powers," Ollivander said, his words both comforting and chilling.

"Buffering those powers because it can contain them?" Hermione asked.

"Indeed. Someday, it will fail, as the dark powers will build up every time you hold your wand. I hope, for all our sakes, you will have gained enough control by then to contain them yourself."

Hermione shook her head. This was too much knowledge for her to absorb. She could feel her head spinning as she attempted to do so.

"How much for the wand, old friend?" Dumbledore asked, noticing her distress.

"Nothing, Albus, save another feather from your phoenix. As chimaera scale is a forbidden substance, I did not record constructing the wand, so I would keep the knowledge of what it is hidden. If you are asked, the core is phoenix feather. Any readings from that are subject to error as they are often off the range used. It is, needless to say, unregistered."

Dumbledore nodded, promising to send the feather as soon as Fawkes agreed to shed one. He took Hermione's elbow as he said their farewells and led the shocked girl to the Leaky Cauldron, requesting a private parlour from Tom with immediate effect.

A cup of tea later and Hermione was more herself again, able to ask questions. "Would you have killed me?"

Dumbledore regarded her for a long moment over his own steaming cup, his glasses misted up, causing him to peer at her from over them.

"Only as a last resort. While in the past, Necromancers have always been evil, I think that this is quite possibly a result of how society treated them.

"I feel I must apologize to you about my treatment of you in St. Mungo's. I lost my temper, something that should never have happened with an injured and grieving student like you. I was angry, but I was also afraid." Hermione's eyes widened at the thought that Dumbledore could be frightened of anything. "Whilst Voldemort is the most powerful Dark Lord to arise in this century, Grindelwald was capable of far more destruction."

"I know Grindelwald was a Necromancer, it says as much in The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts. Are you afraid of me?" Hermione asked, incredulous that the greatest wizard of the age might be scared of her.

"Of what you will be capable of, yes. I would be a fool not to be. I think that it may be possible to break the trend of all Necromancers turning evil with you."

Hermione swallowed nervously. She hoped Dumbledore was right about her, but his confidence felt like a great weight on her shoulders. 'If he's wrong about me, it doesn't bear thinking of.'

"How much do you know of Necromancers, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling into her own.

"Not much. Even the Restricted Section doesn't have much on them..." Hermione trailed off, blushing as she realised what her words revealed about her unauthorised access to forbidden writings.

Dumbledore chuckled. "You are hardly the first student to sneak into there. I did so myself, but don't tell anyone. As Headmaster, I'm meant to set a good example." His smile faded as did the twinkle in his eyes. "Not much is known on Necromancers because the first priority has always been to kill them, not study them when one has arisen. But I can tell you that without exception, family and friends abandon those with Necromantic powers and more often than not turn on them. My confidence in Harry and Ronald leads me to hope that they will not desert you."

Hermione's face fell. She didn't have the same faith in her friends. They'd cast her aside before, over far more trivial things. "If they valued broomsticks over me before, I doubt they'll accept me now." She elaborated more at Dumbledore's quizzical expression. "Back in third year, Sirius sent Harry his Firebolt anonymously before we knew he was innocent. I told Professor McGonagall, leading her to confiscate it until it had been proved to be safe. They left me on my own."

"Ah. Well, they have grown up since then. It will be alright." Dumbledore sounded so confident that Hermione almost believed him.

"Nothing is alright anymore, sir. I don't think it ever will be," Hermione murmured, looking down into her empty mug for the first time since finishing it. The unfiltered tea leaves had formed a pattern that was all too familiar: the Dark Mark. She glared at it, sending a forceful Scourgify at it with her new wand. 'If I believed in Divination and had a constitution like Parvati or Lavender, I'd probably faint now.'

Dumbledore looked questioningly at her, but Hermione did not offer an explanation. Dumbledore finished his tea and stated that it was time to return to Hogwarts. As they approached the fireplace to Floo back, Hermione caught sight of a poster with a picture her face on it, looking startled. She recognised it as being from the Witch Weekly article of 'Harry Potter's Secret Heartache' in her fourth year. She looked closer, eyes widening as she read what it said.

'Hermione Granger. Wanted by the Ministry. Do not try to apprehend, inform the nearest Ministerial representative if seen.'

Before she could comment to Dumbledore on it, Rufus Scrimgeour stepped into the Leaky Cauldron, flanked by two Aurors. They moved to block the fireplace, wands held at the ready.

"Dumbledore, surrender that creature to us immediately. It should be dead," Scrimgeour said, pointing his wand towards Hermione's chest, where her heart skipped a beat.

"I'm sorry, Rufus, but Miss Granger is under my protection. She is innocent; I won't let you kill her. Stand aside," Dumbledore said calmly, his wand suddenly in his hand. He rested his other hand on Hermione's shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.

"Give her to me and your position as Headmaster of Hogwarts will be under no threat. That monster you shelter will destroy us all if she is not executed now." Rufus was living up to his name, his face turning increasingly red with anger.

"Do calm down, Rufus. You'll burst a vessel." Dumbledore's words only served to make Scrimgeour apoplectic with rage, his face darkening to puce and bloodshot eyes bulging from their sockets behind his spectacles.

"If the Dark Lord gets his hands on her, you will have sentenced us all to a new dark age! I cannot let you go. Even if she is an innocent, she will turn evil. I've warned you for the last time. Get her!" Sparks shot from the end of Scrimgeour's wand as he ordered the Aurors to attack.

Three wands shot off into the corners of the room, leaving the Minister and his cronies unarmed. Scrimgeour let out an inarticulate cry of rage as he leapt at Hermione, large hands outstretched.

Her only excuse was that she reacted instinctively as she'd been trained to do so at some Muggle Self-Defence classes. Scrimgeour jerked her out of Dumbledore's grip, spinning her around as he brought his forearm across her neck. Hermione thrust her elbow back into his chest, causing his breath to whoosh out of his mouth. As Scrimgeour began to double over, she brought her right foot down on his instep. Seconds afterwards, she raised her fist, connecting with his nose with a satisfying crunch. She spun around as Scrimgeour's grip failed completely and finished him off with a raised knee to his groin. A strangled groan escaped him as he toppled over, blood running down from his nose as he curled into a defensive ball.

Hermione blinked, hands rising to her mouth as her brain caught up with her. 'Oh, my God. I attacked the Minister of Magic! If he didn't already want me dead, he would now.' The Aurors were gaping open mouthed at her and the fallen Minister. A deep, slow chuckle came from behind her. She turned to see Dumbledore laughing.

"Bravo! He needed to be brought down a peg or two. Come, while we have the element of surprise, let's go home." Dumbledore lead her to the fire, the Aurors still standing like lemons. A couple of flashes of green and cries of "Hogwarts!" and they were gone.

AN: Yes, it was written earlier in this chapter that no one in their right mind would attack someone under Dumbledore's personal protection. I never wrote that Scrimgeour was in his right mind.