On the twenty-sixth, three days after Lisa's attempt to find out who the Pure Adults were, Remus brought Hermione the blood samples of the forty-six British werewolves who had declared interest in the Weresbane. She'd have her work cut out for her once confirmed word of the cure spread abroad. But Hermione, Remus, and Draco were nothing if not determined to reach everyone that they could; they were starting with those were most in danger as a result of the war in Britain.
Despite knowing what someone could do with a vial of blood, these werewolves were desperate enough to trust her on Remus's assurances. Hermione was trying to be restrained in how ecstatic she felt when all forty-six blood tests showed no unexpected allergens or other undesirable reactions to the Weresbane. This was a more-than-representative sample of the werewolf population of Britain, at the very least, and not encountering any problems at this point boded well for her future endeavours.
They short-listed those people who would be up for the first trial, she and Remus discussing the most likely candidates, focussing on those who had been Animagi or had Animagus or Transfiguration training. Remus had agreed to spend his time making sure that they were ready for the appropriate transformation; he was now devoting all his time to this endeavour with the headmaster's full support.
Curing the children would be the most difficult, as they had little control over their magic and would thus have the most difficulty finding their Animagus forms; Hermione was not actually certain whether or not it could be done at such a young age even with assistance, especially since she had formulated her theory thanks to Harry that it was only Pure Adults or non-virgins who could become Animagi. At this point, however, she could not but try, and the children would therefore be slotted for the later trials, as they would need the advantage of time and as smooth a process as she could work out in the meantime.
One positive aspect of her cure was that the new moon portion could be repeated as necessary; if any werewolves failed to transform into Animagi, once the Weresbane worked its way out of their system, it would be back to square one. They'd become werewolves on the next full moon, but on the new moon after that, they could attempt the cure once more.
Until everyone was cured, the Wolfsbane needed to be administered; now that they knew numbers, they'd chosen one of Draco's properties for the safe house, and on Friday night, Hermione and Draco sneaked off the grounds so that she could cast the initial wards to protect it—supplementing or supplanting the Malfoy family wards that were already there—and once the place was fully converted, she'd be adding more. Thanks to Solace's journals, which she had been continuing to read in her spare time, her warding abilities were steadily improving, and she felt as though she were in an excellent position to keep everyone in the safe house protected.
She became the building's Secret Keeper; after what had happened to the werewolves in January, none of them were taking the risk of the location being betrayed. She noticed that Draco and Remus looked at her a little oddly because she knew all the spells and the process just as though she'd done it before. She made no attempt to explain, and they didn't ask.
They had determined that a condition of the Weresbane being administered would be that the werewolves remain in the safe house until they were completely cured; it gave them safety, and it ensured that their knowledge couldn't be used against them by unscrupulous people. Since most of them didn't know where their next meal was coming from, there was little complaint from those being "incarcerated", and since the problem of unemployable werewolves could now hopefully be measured in months rather than years or decades, Harry and Draco had been more than willing to host as many of them as necessary for the required time period.
All other wizards were being encouraged to exercise the utmost safety during the upcoming full moon. The general consensus was that if Voldemort and Greyback couldn't sway the current werewolves to their side, they were likely to try to infect as many more wizards as possible. This didn't pose quite the horror that it once had, but it remained a highly unpleasant experience, and the more people who were infected, the longer it would take for the cure to reach everyone.
Hermione wasn't alone in her desire to have werewolves become a memory as quickly as possible; they were all doing everything they could to make this possible, and she was nothing but impressed by Draco's dedication to the cause.
It was rather nice to be on the same side.
On the first of March, Voldemort's attacks—displeasure about the lack of news on Pure Adults or general violence, Hermione was not sure—hit close to home; Madam Hooch and her sister were attacked by Death Eaters while picking up new brooms in Diagon Alley on Sunday afternoon.
Beatrice Hooch had died of her injuries, and Madam Hooch was now on a secure ward in St Mungo's. She was out of commission at least for the rest of the year; there was no definite news about whether or not she would be able to come back to the school as there was apparently both nerve damage and memory loss from the torture. It would take time to assess the full extent of the damage and determine the chances of a full recovery.
With the woman gone at such an awkward time, there were rumours spreading like wildfire that Quidditch and flying lessons would have to be cancelled for the rest of term. Everyone knew how important Quidditch was to the students' morale, but the professors were stretched thin as it was and simply didn't have the ability or time to add this additional task to their workload; flying couldn't be a top priority when they were fighting a war.
Ron could be heard animadverting on this fact all over the school the entire week of the attack, and Hermione had to bite her tongue to keep from making any comments about the fact that Madam Hooch was seriously injured in hospital—and missing her sister's funeral. Hermione knew he wasn't always completely insensitive, he was just a bit Quidditch mad. Yelling at him for being a prat wasn't going to make the situation any better—and would probably lead to her ranting about issues that had nothing to do with Madam Hooch, either, and she didn't want to be a hypocrite.
The third Quidditch match of the year was supposed to take place on the fourteenth. By the end of the week of the attack, Albus had still not made an official announcement as to whether or not it would be taking place. Especially given what had happened to the previous coach, there weren't exactly a lot of Quidditch experts popping out of the woodwork hoping to come to the school and teach. The students were beginning to get seriously worried.
Hermione cared little for Quidditch, but she did care for the well-being of the students, and she didn't want Voldemort to disrupt their lives if it could be prevented. She imagined that her attempt to assist probably just went to show how much of a busybody she was.
Saturday was the second Hogsmeade visit of the winter term. Although Madam Hooch had not been injured near Hogsmeade, everyone was once again at their most vigilant in an effort to ensure that all the students remained protected. Hermione, Harry, and Draco—along with most of the other Prefects—spent most of their time patrolling the streets, wands at the ready, and there was a large contingent of Aurors who were doing the same. Voldemort, it appeared, was still not yet ready to strike so well-guarded a target so close to Hogwarts, and they were all able to breathe sighs of relief when all the students were safely behind the castle walls once more.
On Sunday evening, Hermione personally Side-Alonged each werewolf to the safe house, and Remus ensured that they got settled. Winky and Kreacher had been only too happy to take over the care of this household, and Albus had been happy to loan Dobby—who'd been pleased as punch to aid Harry Potter even if it meant returning to a Malfoy property. The elves would spend most of their time at the safe house but return to the castle to assist Harry whenever he needed it or whenever they thought he did.
Molly Weasley had been only too delighted to come mind the children, and Albus was in the process of drafting several other Order members who would patrol, ensure that order was maintained, and keep the werewolves from going stir-crazy. They were safe and free from persecution here, which meant a lot to them, but they were also going to be stuck here for months.
Hermione, Draco, and Remus were therefore planning activities that would keep them occupied. There was a library—from which Hermione had warded and hidden the objectionable texts—and once the other Order members arrived, any werewolves who wished could be trained in defence; all the werewolves were about to lose their preternatural skills, so having a good grasp of physical and magical defence techniques was a helpful way to compensate for that.
There were also remedial courses in several branches of magic since some of the werewolves had been virtually unemployable for years; once they became regular citizens again, they would need to be up-to-date, and these training sessions would at least get that process started.
Hermione knew that she couldn't fix everything, but she was determined to do everything possible to make this transition easier for the werewolves.
On Monday, Hermione was alerted to the new arrival at the castle, and she hurried up to the entrance with two confused boys in tow.
An accented voice hailed her immediately from the entrance.
"Hermione!"
He still wasn't the most graceful person when he was touching the ground, but he'd grown up considerably since she'd last seen him. He was still sallow, dark-haired, dark-eyed, and big-nosed, though, and she wondered how she'd deluded herself for as long as she had.
They met in the middle of the entrance, and he swept her into a tight hug that seemed to engulf her smaller frame, especially as he was currently wearing a fur-trimmed cloak.
"Viktor!" she cried, muffled by his chest. "I didn't think you'd actually come."
"After that oh-so-compelling letter you penned, mila moya, who could resist?" he asked, tone teasing.
It had been quite a straightforward letter, really:
Dear Viktor,
I know this is extraordinarily last minute, but I feel it's my duty to ask—though I fully expect you to tell me to bugger off and leave you alone. Do you happen to have the slightest desire to take a leave of absence from your lucrative and (relatively) safe position on a world-winning Quidditch team to come to a war-torn country to teach hormonal children how to fly? Madam Hooch has been injured in an attack, and we're in need of a replacement.
Yours,
Hermione
She drew back and beamed at him. "I hadn't actually anticipated your dropping everything and landing on my doorstep with no warning like this."
He shrugged. "It vas time for a change."
"You were able to get away from your team without trouble?" she questioned with concern.
He offered another shrug. "I told them vhat I alvays tell them: if they don't vant to let me go, they are free to replace me vhen I leave anyvay."
She snorted. "And they didn't leap at the opportunity to get rid of such a conceited player?"
His lips twitched, an almost smile appearing. "Strangely, no."
At a rather robust clearing of the throat, she was reminded of the other people with her and drew Viktor further inside towards them. Since Draco was the one with his eyebrows nearly to his hairline, she gathered it was he who had ensured she didn't forget about them. She smiled and gestured towards her best friend.
"I imagine you remember Harry."
Harry and Viktor shook hands.
"It is difficult to be forgetting him, yes," Viktor conceded with a nod.
"And this is Draco Malfoy." She indicated Draco and saw the puzzlement beginning to settle on the Bulgarian's face as he no doubt recalled how Harry and Draco had felt about one another previously. She continued, "It is perhaps better if you don't remember him."
Harry gave an unconvincing cough, Draco's expression grew lofty, and Viktor smiled slightly, reaching out his hand again.
"As you say, mila moya. It is a pleasure to meet you, Draco." He looked around. "Vhere is your other friend, Ronald?"
Hermione suppressed a sigh. "He's no doubt scented your arrival and should be arriving any second."
Viktor didn't miss her tone, but he thankfully remained silent, as they'd already begun to acquire a crowd, and Viktor liked publicity as little as she did.
"I'm sure Albus is expecting you," she said loudly enough for the wildly whispering crowd of students to hear clearly. "Let me show you up."
He was quick to take her up on her offer, and Harry and Draco flanked them. She invited Viktor to tea in her quarters that evening after he'd had the day to get settled, and he'd seemed quite pleased to accept.
They left Viktor with the headmaster—who was, of course, delighted by the whole turn of events.
Draco's voice was eloquent of his incredulity. "You asked Viktor Krum to come take over Rolanda's position, and he dropped everything to do so?"
"Er, yes?" It sounded a little funny put like that.
"You realize most of us don't have that sort of a relationship with international Quidditch stars," Draco said dryly.
She shrugged. "It didn't seem sporting not to at least ask, given that I know him. It was his decision."
Draco's expression was very sharp as he agreed, "Yes, it was."
Neither Viktor nor the headmaster made it into the Great Hall for breakfast, but it seemed that news of the former's arrival reached everyone anyway. Severus was certainly aware of it by the time they had Potions. When he detected a higher-than-normal whisper quotient in the classroom, he roundly informed them all that the presence of a new celebrity—Harry and Hermione carefully didn't look at one another—hardly constituted a reason to misbehave in Potions class. In fact, if they wished for any free time for the rest of term in which to gape at their leisure at whatever they wished, they would do well to pay very close and particular attention to Severus right now.
First year and now seventh year, Harry observed. Does that mean it's the end of an era? Can I pass on the torch and skulk off into obscurity?
He sounded inordinately hopeful despite the dismal-sounding words.
I'm not sure your lot in life is as straightforward as that, Harry, she pointed out, amused.
He made a face, sighing. No, I didn't really think so, either. Nice to imagine for a minute, though.
Come on, she cajoled. We'd better pay attention before Severus accuses us of being enamoured of Viktor.
Just the rumour I need, Harry agreed wryly. I somehow doubt that Draco would be amused.
Hermione rather thought not, as well. The blond Slytherin didn't share.
They settled in to the rest of the class, Harry shaking his head minutely at Draco to indicate that what they'd been discussing wasn't important. The Slytherin seemed to have Harry radar that informed him whenever the Gryffindor was not paying full attention to Draco. Hermione found it amusing and hoped that it didn't come to bother Harry. At the moment, she knew that Harry was pleased that there was someone out there who noticed so much about him and was so desirous of his regard.
Viktor was at lunch, and Hermione wondered at Albus's decision to put him next to Severus. It was true that the Bulgarian had spent a fair bit of time with the Slytherins during the Triwizard Tournament; given who his headmaster had been, that wasn't terribly surprising. Now, however, it was like assigning a grim area of the table. Perhaps Albus had put the Quidditch star next to Severus so that the Head of Slytherin's particularly potent glare could protect the famous visitor.
There were an inordinate number of stares and sighs and giggles in that direction, many of them redirected when Severus sent the glare of death their way, but Hermione doubted that he would be pleased to have been drafted for guard duty. Of course, the headmaster was known for his daft plans that often miraculously worked out all right. If she or Harry bore the brunt of Severus's distemper as a result, though, it would be more than a little annoying. At least Viktor didn't act anything like Lockhart and didn't try to engage Severus in frivolous discussion. She didn't think that Severus would put up with it for a second time.
Hermione smiled at Viktor as she, Harry, and Draco gathered up their bags and headed off to Charms. This resulted in a smile from him which caused a marked increase in the noise in the room and a bigger glare from Severus.
Remind me why I thought this was a good idea? she asked Harry plaintively.
Harry just smirked at her.
Dinner was more of the same, with the younger students trying to get information out of any of the older students who had been here during the Triwizard Tournament. It didn't take long for everyone to be informed or reminded that she had gone to the Yule Ball with Viktor, not to mention the fact that she had been his most precious possession in the second task. Between her and Harry—who'd been a fellow Champion and therefore had to know lots of juicy details—they were once again being pestered with questions.
Have we started counting down the days until we leave Hogwarts? Harry asked. I swear they get younger and more annoying every year.
Ninety-seven days until we catch the Hogwarts Express, she answered after a quick mental calculation. This year has certainly been … plentiful with regards to impertinent questions.
Draco was keeping a low profile next to them, careful not to remind anyone how much time he had spent with the visitors from Durmstrang.
They didn't linger over dinner, ducking out just as pudding was being served.
"I don't suppose the Head Boy and Head Girl can stop having meals in the Great Hall?" Harry asked hopefully.
"There's no way that you're leaving me in there by myself," Draco declared immediately. "If I have to go, we all have to go."
Harry smirked. "Don't worry, Draco, I'll protect you from all the itty-bitty first-years."
"Prat."
Harry just grinned unrepentantly as they took the stairs down to the dungeon. They'd just turned down the hallway that led towards their rooms when Hermione found herself throwing up shielding around all three of them—at the same time that Harry did, so it was a good thing their magic worked well together—as they were attacked by a barrage of spells. Draco's wand was clenched in his fist as they all backed up against the wall so that their backs were protected.
Hermione rolled her eyes. There was a certain lack of creativity expressed by this choice, and she was starting to contemplate the possibility of using a shield at all times while she was travelling the corridors. The attacks were beginning to get more than a little tiresome—although it was a nice bonus to be able to see the spells coming.
Someone had had the forethought to cast a smoke charm so that it was impossible to see who or how many people were attacking them.
Draco spoke quietly. "This is awfully in the open and near the Great Hall to be a random attack."
She and Harry both nodded. It had seemed like a set-up to her, too.
After a few moments with no indication of the smoke dissipating, Harry asked, Can we Vanish it yet?
She frowned. I don't doubt I can disable and re-cast the shield before they have the chance to attack, but they must have seen us or heard about us in class. The fact that she had won against Draco, at least, had done the rounds. They know how quickly we can react.
Before they had to make a decision, the smoke suddenly dissipated. What they found was rather startling. Severus was to their left and had evidently come from the stairs just as they had. He had his wand out and had apparently been the one to Vanish the smoke.
Ten feet or so down the corridor in the opposite direction were the Slytherins who'd attacked them; all of them were unconscious on the ground. Hermione had a sudden premonition of where this was going even before Severus had begun Ennervating them, and the looks on Harry's and Draco's faces suggested they'd guessed the same.
They were proved immediately correct when Tracey Davis, the first person to be woken, immediately launched into a creative and histrionic story of how she and her fellow Slytherins, who had of course been minding their own business, had been violently set upon by the two Gryffindors and their traitorous Slytherin companion.
This was confirmed by Nott, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle in succession. Severus turned to face the three of them, and one look at his face told her that nothing they said was going to make any difference.
"Well, well, well," Severus sneered at his darkest and coldest. The other Slytherins smirked behind their Head of House. "What a despicable crime to attempt."
"We didn't—" Harry began, seemingly unable to help himself.
Severus's glare quelled him. "Of course you did, Mr Potter. Gryffindors are always up for this sort of sport. We can't really have the three of you believing the normal rules don't apply to you, now can we?"
"But—"
Severus didn't wait to see what protest Harry was going to offer now. "That will be detention for a week, I think. Starting tonight." A cold smile twisted his face. "And to ensure that you learn your lesson, we'll make it all your spare time."
"You can't—" Harry started again.
"Oh, but I can, Mr Potter," Severus said in that silky, low register that boded ill for whoever was being addressed.
At least Hermione thought she now knew what was going on.
Summon Albus, please. I believe Severus is under orders to prevent me from brewing the Wolfsbane.
Fawkes responded with alacrity. He comes. Do you need immediate assistance?
Hermione hardly thought that a phoenix appearing out of thin air would do a lot for the discussion.
No, no, we're fine.
Pretty used to Severus being a prat, really.
Severus's tone turned more cordial as he addressed his "attacked" Slytherins. "You had better go to the hospital wing and ensure that you were not permanently damaged in the attack."
Holding imaginary or self-inflicted injuries gingerly, the Slytherins managed to look smug and hurt at the same time.
Before they could move off for this gratuitous visit, however, they were interrupted.
"Vhat is going on here?"
Viktor, apparently early for tea. Tracey Davis immediately took it upon herself to play up to him, putting on her best simpering smile while she nursed an apparently injured arm.
"We were attacked, Mr Krum," she said with big eyes and a tremor in her voice, pointing accusingly at Hermione, Harry, and Draco, "by them!"
Viktor came to stand next to Hermione and asked with all apparent seriousness, "Is that so, Hermione? Did you attack these students?"
"I did not," she answered. She had considered calling him Viktor, just to thumb her nose at the Slytherins, but she had restrained herself.
Viktor turned to look at Severus.
"Have you determined vhat really happened?"
The smile slid of Tracey's face to be replaced by a nasty scowl.
"Miss Davis has already informed you of the sequence of events," Severus said emotionlessly.
"And Hermione has informed me that events did not occur like that," Viktor said simply as though that settled the matter.
"Are you calling Miss Davis a liar?" Severus asked dangerously.
"Are you calling Hermione vone?" Viktor countered.
It helped to have someone whom Severus couldn't shush to come to her defence.
Severus's voice was still cold. "I have five students here who confirm those events."
Viktor gestured at the three of them. "And three who counter it, including the Head Boy and Head Girl of Hogvarts. It is a dangerous accusation to be making."
Severus's gaze was very narrow. "It's absurd to imply they can do no wrong, although you would hardly be the first to make such a claim."
Viktor's expression was as grim as Severus's.
"I am not saying so. But I believe them now."
"Did you see what happened?"
"Did you?" Viktor returned. "How is it that your students are claiming they vere attacked?"
"We were ambushed," Tracey declared hotly. "We—"
Albus arrived before she could finish this second bout of creative storytelling.
"What seems to be the trouble this evening?" he asked, serene as always.
Harry, Tracey, Viktor, and Severus all tried to explain at the same time. Albus held up a hand for silence.
"Your students appear to be in some distress, Severus. Perhaps you had better take them to the Infirmary."
"I need to supervise Mr Potter, Miss Granger, and Mr Malfoy's detentions," Severus argued.
"Not just at the moment, I think," Albus said gently but utterly implacably. "I will speak with the Gryffindors and Mr Malfoy. We wouldn't want your students to be further injured by our delay, now would we?"
"Of course not," Severus said expressionlessly.
Looking mildly disgruntled but recognizing their impotence, all the Slytherins but Draco headed off.
The headmaster smiled benignly at those remaining. "To your quarters, I think, Harry, Hermione."
Once they were in the privacy of their common room, Hermione, Harry, and Draco described in short order what had actually happened.
"I will speak to Severus," Albus said. He smiled faintly. "No perpetual detention, of course."
"Thank you, sir," Draco said politely.
Hermione thought he sounded a little conflicted and wondered if it was at being on this end of the potential favouritism. Albus hadn't been there to see what had happened, after all, and was simply taking their word for it. Of course, they were speaking the truth and were members of the school and Order in good standing. There was good reason for Albus to believe them—and what did that say about several years of events that Draco had witnessed?
That rationale worked quite well until someone in a trusted position went bad and abused the trust that had been placed in him or her—Tom Riddle the Prefect opening the Chamber of Secrets immediately sprang to mind. Hermione was hardly going to advocate that Albus not trust the three of them, however, and thus they ended up here.
Albus rose from his seat by the fire. "I will go see how the situation is resolving itself in the Infirmary."
Hermione wondered if he'd actually check the spells that had come out of the Slytherins' wands or if he was just going to let it go at no one being seriously injured given that it was likely Voldemort was behind it all anyway.
Once the headmaster had left, Hermione served the tea that she had promised Viktor that morning.
"Hogvarts does not seem to have changed much since the Tournament," he observed.
"We always have a number of adventures," Hermione agreed.
"It would hardly be a school year without numerous attempts on our lives," Harry put in fairly cheerfully.
As far as attempts went, after all, this one had been rather mild.
Viktor only stayed for a half an hour or so, informing them of his schedule, confirming the details of their days, and making certain that they didn't mind if he visited them from time to time when he was fed up with teenaged hormones.
"You do realize that we're all still teenagers?" Hermione pointed out dryly.
"But you are nothing like the masses," he said with a smile. "That has been true of you since I first met you, mila moya."
She thanked him for the compliment and ushered him out.
"What does 'mila moya' mean?" Harry asked. "He's used it three times now, and I thought he'd finally worked out how to say your name."
Hermione laughed. "He can do, but we both agreed it was easier if he used a nickname most of the time. 'Mila moya' is Bulgarian for 'my darling'. He keeps telling me that it's not his stock phrase so that he doesn't have to differentiate between any of his Quidditch groupies, but I'm never convinced."
"He actually spends time with his Quidditch groupies?"
"I suspect that everyone is tempted sometimes," she answered circumspectly. She really didn't want to get into a discussion about Viktor's sex life, so she seized the moment to change the subject. "I have to start on the Wolfsbane. It would hardly do for Voldemort's plan to be successful because I was here nattering with the two of you instead of working on the potion."
"Voldemort's plan?" Harry asked.
"Severus was hardly giving us such crazy detentions for no reason, Harry." Granted, he had been known to do something like that in the past on occasion, but she was sure that there had been more going on here because it had been too grand a set-up otherwise. "It was to prevent me from making the Wolfsbane for the next full moon. It rises in less than seventy-two hours now."
"Why would Voldemort think that Albus would allow that?" Harry sounded confused and doubtful.
Hermione shook her head. "I'm not sure that Voldemort puts a lot of stock into what Albus will pick up on." She frowned. "Or he imagines that is Severus's problem to solve. He probably won't be happy, but at least there are all those Slytherin witnesses to attest to the fact that Severus tried. Hopefully, the headmaster will be blamed for the failure."
"Couldn't someone just have pushed you down the stairs or something?" her best friend asked.
Draco snorted, and Harry opened his mouth again when he realized what he'd said.
"Of course someone might have tried," she agreed, waving aside his attempt at an apology. "But thus far, the Slytherins don't have a great success rate when it comes to attacking me. There was at least a plan to this ambush, and had I not been able to call for Albus, it's entirely likely that Severus would have been forced to keep us for the night; the base that I started this morning for the potion would have been completely ruined, and I couldn't have fixed it in time for this moon."
"Then why didn't Snape warn us?" Harry asked. "He had to have known long enough in advance to warn us."
"If he did know, he is no doubt being monitored. Besides, he's certain to know that I would have no trouble summoning Albus. I'm sure it seemed to the others that the earliest anything could be done would be tomorrow, which would be too late for the potion. Severus, though, would have known the plan would fail."
She might be all sorts of upset with him on a personal level, but she would always know which side he was on.
She rose from the armchair she had been sitting in, putting her finished teacup back on the tea tray which the elves had served them.
"Fortunately, it is not too late for the potion. I'll be in my lab if you need me."
She passed through her bedroom to the lab and checked on the potion's base. It looked to be the proper consistency, so she turned up the flame, carefully washed her hands, and began chopping the next ingredient.
It was only a few minutes later that there was a knock at the door. She looked up to find Draco standing there.
"What can I do for you?" she asked, eyes flicking back to the bayacura root she was chopping.
"That was going to be my question for you, Hermione," he said with amusement, stepping all the way into the room. "You're making the potion for almost fifty werewolves. I'd like to help."
"Thank you," she said, slightly surprised but trying not to show it because she actually knew how much this meant to him. "Wash your hands, take one of the silver knives from the second drawer on the left and come join me. You can mince the ginger."
He did as instructed although when he returned to the countertop, he made no motion to actually start cutting. She realized after a quick glance up that he was staring at her. She didn't pause in her rapid chopping but asked, "What?"
"I hadn't appreciated quite how adept you are at this."
She spared a moment to look up and offer him a wry grin. "I examined the Wolfsbane in minute detail, pulled it apart, and designed the Weresbane."
Draco nodded distractedly as he finally sat down at the stool on the opposite side of the countertop from her and readied his knife. "I know you're good at it. I mean, I've seen you work on potions in class, but I just didn't quite," he gestured with the knife, "put it all together like this. Have you considered a Potions mastery?"
Smiling at him without looking up as she continued to cut, she nodded. "I have, yes. I've not yet decided what I want to do in the future, but that possibility is not without its appeal."
The Slytherin nodded in understanding, thankfully not bringing up the possibility of her having an apprenticeship with Severus, which currently seemed about as likely as Voldemort declaring a sudden love for Muggles.
Silence reigned for a minute before Draco paused in his task.
"This ginger is quite fresh."
"Of course."
"It was grown here?"
She made a noise of assent.
His knife halted abruptly. "Don't you realize what the Slytherins are likely to have done to these ingredients?"
She gestured with her knife towards the cupboards behind her.
"All the contaminated ingredients are in there. The ones I'm actually using were grown out of sight and beyond anyone else's notice and ability to modify."
He started chopping again.
"You should have been in Slytherin."
This was said in a very heartfelt manner, and she laughed aloud.
By Tuesday morning, the Daily Prophet knew all about Viktor being at the school to teach, and they had no problem whatsoever making all kinds of insinuations about why that was and what that meant for Harry. She was displeased but not surprised by the immediacy with which she was once again cast in the role of villain.
The Wolfsbane was distributed successfully Thursday morning. Despite what a number of people thought of the stupidity of the plan, Hermione was firm in her intention of being present at the safe house from lunch time on Thursday until nearly breakfast time Friday morning.
Although what Hermione was currently doing wasn't precisely related to her bonus project—at least not the normal scope of a bonus project—Pomona had been only too pleased to give Hermione the afternoon off from class to work at the safe house. The Herbology professor had made it clear, although not in so many words, that growing a plant and then designing a potion around it to cure lycanthropy had essentially guaranteed that Hermione do well in Herbology; missing one class was hardly going to jeopardize that.
Those who were protesting her intention to remain in a house filled with forty-six werewolves then argued that she'd be dead on her feet partway through the night, but she knew she'd survive without the sleep, and she wanted to ensure that everyone was safe and reacting properly to the Wolfsbane; she'd made it before for Remus but never for so many people.
These were strangers who were relying on her, and she couldn't let them down. If she couldn't trust the job she'd done on her potion and the wards of the safe house, then she might as well quit Hogwarts and run off to live as a Muggle. She was finally forced to tell Albus and Harry that she was going whether they gave permission or not.
Harry nearly caused a riot when Draco insisted on going with her. As far as he was concerned, if Draco went, then he was going, too. Albus put his foot down: Harry was not to be away from the protection of Hogwarts for that extended a length of time. This made Harry furious, of course, and he shattered three of the strange instruments in Albus's office without going near them or his wand and told Albus that the man could expel him for disobeying, and then where would they be?
It took her and Draco the better part of three hours to calm Harry down and convince him that it really would be safer for everyone if he stayed behind.
"It would be safer for you if you stayed behind, too." Harry was looking at Draco with that wounded, pouty look that seemed like it would be impossible to refuse.
But Draco faced him squarely, voice intense. "Harry, this is something I have to do. I need to help. Please don't try to take that away from me."
Harry might not like it, but he did understand about doing what needed to be done and about feeling compelled to perform difficult and dangerous tasks. He finally consented, though clearly unhappy. She left Draco consoling Harry in a quiet voice.
The truth of the matter was that it would be very helpful to have Draco spending the night. A number of the werewolves were not happy about the associations with the Malfoy family brought about by the ownership of the safe house; Draco would be able to show them that he fully supported them. For those who'd been in the January hunt in the Forbidden Forest especially, it would be a relief for them to see the unharmed boy whom they had been chasing. And as a second recipient of the Weresbane Potion, Draco could only be further proof that her potion really worked as she had said that it did.
She thought it was important that all the werewolves who had entrusted her with their lives got the opportunity to spend some time with her and to actually see during the full moon that Remus and Draco were cured.
Remus had been working hard in the weeks leading up to this full moon to ensure that the dungeon level of the house was appropriately altered to contain the large quantity of werewolves it would now be housing, and she had sneaked back over several times late at night to continue the warding. They had all agreed that, certain as they were of her potion-making skills, they were taking no chances.
As they had explained to all the werewolves, they wanted to trust them, but they had to operate as though they trusted no one. Separating everyone kept not only the humans safe but also each of the werewolves in case one chose to attack his or her fellows.
As a result of their need for as much care as possible, each of the werewolves was monitored as they drank the Wolfsbane and then locked into one of the sixty containment areas that the room had been converted into. She, Remus, and Draco had done their best not to make them appear too cell-like, putting in comfortable chairs and books and activities—and screened off sinks and toilets—for the period during which they were human and plenty of warm bedding and comforts for the animal form. There were very few things that couldn't be done between magic and money being no object.
The werewolves' wands had been taken from them for the period of their incarceration, and Hermione and Remus had solemnly sworn that they would get them back just as soon as they were allowed to leave the cells at six thirty-five Friday morning when the moon had set and they were all back in human form.
Thanks to the information provided in Solace's journals, Hermione had been able to efficiently individually ward each cell with her name runes worked into them so that it would be very difficult for anyone else to get through them.
For the rest, she and Remus were trusting that the ultimate desire to become completely human again would outweigh anything Greyback or Voldemort could possibly have offered the werewolves in exchange for sabotaging her efforts. That still left the possibility of Imperius and other coercion, but locking everyone down once they arrived minimized outside influence, and they would continue to monitor for suspicious behaviour.
Albus had enlisted Bill's help, saying he would feel more comfortable if Hermione and Draco weren't the only ones there, and Tonks had insisted on coming along with Remus. Hermione and Draco had carefully presented it to Harry as a deliberate choice on their part to invite an Auror with them, but they were pretty sure that he hadn't been convinced.
Whatever Draco had said—or done, but she wasn't going there—to Harry once Hermione had left had apparently given Harry enough equanimity to face the blond's going even with this reminder that Harry was the Boy Who Lived and subject to rules that didn't apply to everyone else.
When Viktor had learned that Hermione was leaving the school for the night, he had volunteered to accompany her even without knowing where she was going, but she had told him that she would feel more comfortable if she knew that there were reliable people back at Hogwarts in her absence. She had asked him to keep Harry company since her best friend was likely to be antsy out of both her and Draco's presence, and the Bulgarian had readily taken up that task on her behalf.
Hermione went out just before two on Thursday afternoon to pick Bill up at Grimmauld Place, give him the location to the safe house, and Side-Along him to the house in question. Draco was waiting to greet them at the door, and she wondered if he realized how much he was acting like the lord of the manor as he seriously shook Bill's hand.
"I hadn't realized Mr Malfoy was going to be here," Bill said with what she thought was a good effort at evenness given how well the Weasleys and the Malfoys got along.
"It's his house," she pointed out. "He volunteered it for this effort."
"That's very kind of him," Bill said, eyeing Draco curiously. "I hadn't realized you were making such an effort for the Order, Mr Malfoy."
Draco smiled at Bill. "Since Voldemort tried to kill me, I've turned over a new leaf."
Bill returned the smile, his face softening entirely and the Weasley charm showing through. "I see. That does have a tendency to convert one. Now, what exactly is it that you want me to take a look at? The full moon rises in a few hours, so there's not a lot I can do between now and then if I find problems with your warding."
She and Draco exchanged looks. "I don't particularly anticipate your finding problems," Hermione answered after a moment. "Albus said he would be happier if there were more Order members present, and he suggested you due to your skills in this area."
Draco smirked. "I'm not entirely certain if he's trying to put us in our place or shock you, but you'd better come downstairs."
Down they went into the dungeon where Remus was still puttering around ensuring that all the werewolves were comfortable and not in need of anything that he could provide while they waited for the moonrise.
As they entered the containment area, Bill sucked in his breath.
"Merlin's beard," he breathed. "I see why you didn't think you'd need any assistance. Who laid these wards?"
Draco cleared his throat, and when Bill looked over at him, he gestured with his head towards Hermione. Bill looked over at her.
"You set these?" he asked incredulously.
She nodded.
His mouth moved for several attempts but nothing came out. Finally, he managed to speak. "Nice job."
Remus joined them. "Hello, Bill," he greeted the eldest Weasley cheerfully before he took in the man's expression. He turned instantly solicitous. "You seem more than a little shocked. If it's too many werewolves, I'm sure we can get you outfitted somewhere upstairs, or I could find someone to replace you…."
Bill shook his head. "Since almost everyone I know would have difficulty getting through these wards, I'm not deeply concerned about the werewolves, Remus. How could I not know you can do this?" he demanded, looking at her with wide eyes.
"It's not exactly a skill I advertise. It would make me," she sighed at her own comment before it came out, "even more of a target for Voldemort. And it's … a comparatively recent skill."
Bill let out a snort of laughter. "Hermione, you've only been alive for eighteen years. This sort of skill comes about—for the lucky ones—after years of work. I can break wards like these eventually." He squinted at the nearest set of wards. "But that takes years of practice. Devotion to the art. What are you doing at Hogwarts? The goblins will be after you for sure when they find out."
She smiled. "Then I guess it's to your benefit that I don't have any particular desire to be a curse breaker, isn't it? I'm trying to help people here, and I'll use my skills to protect my loved ones, but I don't have a treasure-seeking bug. And you can't possibly be telling me not to finish my N.E.W.T.s."
He laughed at how appalled she sounded. "It's killing the swot in you, is it?"
Draco leaned towards Bill and said in a loud whisper meant to be overheard, "And that would be at least ninety-five percent of her. You had better watch out or she'll decide that you're a bad influence."
"I've survived years of association with Harry and Ron," she said with mock-haughtiness. "If I can survive them, I can certainly survive Bill." She smiled at him. "I've got some of the empty areas warded at the end of the room if you want to see about testing your abilities."
Bill cracked his knuckles theatrically, stretching his arms. "Right. My professional skills are now in question. Lead on."
The eldest Weasley child immediately set about to break through her wards. Remus continued to make sure the werewolves were comfortable, explaining once again to those who had never had access to the Wolfsbane before just what this transformation would be like. Both he and Draco also continued their talks with the first ten people who'd be taking the Weresbane on the twenty-seventh.
When Hermione needed to relax a bit, she read stories to the seven children who would be transforming and made sure that they weren't bored out of their minds as they waited for the moon. It would be the first transformation for two of them. It was a testament to how careful wizarding families were being on the full moon, as these two had been Voldemort's and Greyback's retaliation on the February moon after the mess Hermione and Harry had made of his and Voldemort's plans in January. They all knew that if Greyback had been able, he would have infected more.
Tonks joined them once the dinner hour started at Hogwarts. The werewolves who weren't too overwrought ate in their cages and the rest of them sat down to dinner together. Remus had already ensured that there was appropriate meat—rabbit and deer—tucked away in the cells under stasis charm, ready for when the werewolves became hungry later in the night.
Then it was a countdown with almost fifty increasingly restless about-to-transform werewolves.
Hermione had put up Silencing Charms between the containment areas so that the werewolves wouldn't be bothered by their neighbours; they wouldn't have to worry about someone who liked to sing or who snored or who decided to howl at the moon for half the night. The entire dungeon was warded from the rest of the house so that any upstairs visitors wouldn't know what was going on down below and would be able to sleep in peace.
In order to ensure the safety of her charges, however, she hadn't put Silencing Charms up on the outside, meaning that those who were keeping watch could hear what was going on inside each cell.
Hermione convinced Bill and Tonks to perform a last-minute emergency tea run upstairs, but one look at Remus and Draco told her they would refuse to leave. This left the three of them to witness the heartrending sight and sound of forty-six humans transforming into werewolves.
There was the awful crunch of bones snapping and re-forming, a pulling and rending sound as muscles and tissue were reshaped. Bodies hit the ground, nails scrabbled powerlessly against the floor. Over it all were the sounds of screams, yips, and howls of anger and pain being ripped from throats human and animal.
It was agonizing, and Hermione knew she would remember it for the rest of her life. Remus's face was pinched and Draco's had lost what little colour it normally had, his eyes haunted. He had only ever experienced the one horrid battle with the werewolf, and it had been in the process of getting cured. Until last month, all of these people had thought that they would be transforming as painfully as this each and every month until they died.
With slightly shaky humour, Hermione realized that she now desperately wanted the tea she had asked for as a distraction. The other two looked equally relieved when Bill and Tonks reappeared with laden tea trays, although none of them made the slightest move towards the sweets that had also been provided.
Hermione noticed that her hand had a fine tremor in it when she retrieved a teacup, so she hurriedly wrapped both hands around the china and took a reassuring sip of the hot liquid. She felt it slide all the way down her throat and pool in her stomach, and she fancied that she could feel its heat beginning to melt the block of ice that seemed to have taken up residence there.
"You all right?" Tonks asked with concern.
Remus, the most used to those sorts of sounds—though she supposed he was usually distracted by making them himself—managed a slightly wan but otherwise genuine-seeming smile.
"We're fine, 'Dora. Tea's a godsend. Shall we check on everyone?"
As far as subject changes went, it wasn't the most subtle one in existence, but Hermione was happy to take it, and as Draco looked just as eager, Bill and Tonks gave in.
All forty-six werewolves were able to respond to human questions and gave every indication of having all of their mental faculties intact. Remus and Draco strolled up and down the rows of cages to ensure that each and every one of the werewolves had the chance to see that they were perfectly human even though the full moon now rode in the sky. There were yips of excitement at this, which made Hermione smile.
Most of the werewolves went to sleep. Hermione read to the children, as she had promised, until they curled up in their wolf pup forms and nodded off as well. Once everyone seemed settled, the five of them sat down for their vigil. They would be doing rounds every half hour to ensure that there were no problems.
Bill's first priority was to continue breaking through her wards; he went back to that almost immediately now that the werewolves were contained and safe. It was almost eight in the evening when he gave a whoop of delight and turned to her triumphantly.
"I've done it," he said with a wide grin.
She raised an eyebrow. "Have you now?"
He opened his mouth to speak, his eyes now clouded with suspicion, but no words actually emerged because he'd tripped one of her safeguards—it was hard to keep trying to get past her wards when Stunned.
She Ennervated Bill with a smirk on her lips, and he smiled good-naturedly as he rose to his feet.
"All right," he said, brushing the escaped strands of his hair back from his face, "I deserved that. I didn't detect more wards."
"You weren't supposed to."
"But there are more." It wasn't a question.
"Of course. Layering on the outside, extra protection in the middle, and a whole other series of layering on the inside."
"I have to go through all of that again?" he asked, sounding both fed up and oddly pleased. She supposed it was like inviting her to a big library to research and then telling her just as she thought she'd finished that there was another equally large room that she hadn't seen yet.
Her smile deepened. "Well, it's not the same warding, of course."
"Of course," he agreed cordially. "Couldn't have that."
Normally, if there were multiple wards protecting a house, room, or area such as the ones she had cast, they were layered one on top of the other like the skin of an onion. Wards that were well-cast only revealed subsequent layers after the previous one was dismantled. One of the tricks Solace had taught her was putting the equivalent of air pockets between select ones, tricking the person trying to dismantle them into thinking that there were no more wards.
This didn't work for people like her and Harry who could see all sorts of magic, but fortunately, that wasn't a common talent. It was these sorts of tricks, along with an extraordinary amount of power, which had made the Hogwarts protections so successful and long-lived.
Not seeing any more wards, Bill had therefore inadvertently tripped the next level, which knocked him out and set off an alarm to alert her; without someone there to Ennervate him, it was likely he would have remained unconscious long enough to be captured.
Hermione had made the second half of the warding even more difficult, as this was the layer that anyone in the cell would be trying to get through first. She'd put some pretty strong deterrents in, as she was keen on keeping everyone as safe as possible.
Bill's eyebrows rose as he detected the first of her silver wards, which would be painful and poisonous for any werewolves who came into contact with it. He'd managed to pick apart her first name rune. That was what curse breakers were trained to do, after all, and they all had a solid background in ancient runes.
The second rune that she'd embedded, however, wasn't "Hermione" but "Berit", and she'd used the runes which Solace had employed in her warding from a thousand years ago. These were the woman's own modified runes, and Hermione was pretty sure that they were based on Parseltongue, though she had not yet checked with Harry.
"What are they?" Bill asked, finally. "I've never seen anything like them."
"I'm afraid I'm not going to tell you."
"Fair enough," he agreed. His eyes were very bright. "Whatever they are, they're brilliant."
"Thanks," she said happily.
"I'll get through eventually."
"I'm sure you will."
She doubted he'd manage it today, but she knew that he was good at what he did. The attempt had reassured her, though, that there was indeed little chance that one of the werewolves could get out. Even if they managed to sneak a wand into the cell and happened to be a professional curse breaker, the ward-breaking would take long enough that she would notice and be able to stop them.
She eventually convinced the others to sleep for several hours, able to force them off once they started yawning every few minutes. It wasn't as though there was a lot of excitement to keep the adrenaline pumping; they were all sitting here watching generally sleeping, human-minded werewolves, and most of them had been here all day.
Tonks and Draco had class tomorrow, and while she had no idea if Bill had to go to work on Friday morning, as she understood that curse breakers had creative hours, she thought that avoiding sleepless nights in general was sound advice.
Although they could all claim that she had to be as tired as they were, it was easy enough for her to point out that she wasn't the one yawning her head off. She looked far more chipper than any of the others, and she finally threatened to just knock them out with Stunners when they weren't looking.
They slept a little, therefore, but were all up in time for the same painful-to-witness transformations in the morning, apparently all feeling that it was something which they needed to bear witness to.
The transformation this morning, though, meant that at the end there were a large number of humans who knew that the cure was in sight, and many of whom had just experienced a transformation that was a great deal more pleasant than the one that they usually experienced.
They all thanked her, and she sent the group of happier werewolves up to the kitchen for breakfast. They'd taken a big step today getting everyone safely through the transformation, and in two weeks, they'd be ready for the first of the Weresbane trials.
Round about seven in the morning, she, Draco, and Tonks bid Remus and Bill farewell and headed back to Hogwarts. They now had time to shower, dress, and head up to breakfast. Harry was positively delighted to see them, flinging himself into Draco's arms as though he'd been absent for weeks rather than hours. If there'd been more time, Hermione was sure he would have shown the Slytherin precisely how happy he was to have him back; she assumed that was on the agenda for the next available opportunity.
Hermione hadn't been at breakfast for more than ten minutes before she wished that she'd stayed at the safe house. It was all of a few days since Viktor had been at the school, but the Daily Prophet informed them that it was now obvious to everyone that she had been hanging out for Viktor after all; sympathy was swinging back with sickening rapidity to Harry, who'd obviously been horribly used by her.
For the first time, everyone seemed to notice how much time he was spending with Draco—only showing how blind the Prophet and the students could be when they wished, she supposed—how close they were, and the blame was immediately laid at her door. How could Harry not be expected to fall for Draco, the nearest kind person, when she was such a horrid, cheating, sly, manipulative harlot? Who wouldn't be turned off her entire sex after dealing with her machinations over such an extended period?
It didn't help that Viktor immediately jumped to her defence; this simply confirmed the supposed facts in many people's minds. Round about the fifteenth time or so in all of three editions of the paper she'd been called a slew of awful names, she was finding it difficult to be entirely sanguine about the subject.
It was a nice bit of luck for Harry that they'd decided that she was evil because otherwise the fact that the Boy Who Lived was bisexual—or just really slow at working out that he was gay—would no doubt be extraordinarily newsworthy. She was pleased that Harry wasn't having a worse time of it but could have happily handled a little less harshness on her own behalf.
Draco found it absolutely hilarious, and when Harry threw down yet another libellous paper in their common room as they were having a nicely private breakfast Saturday morning, the Slytherin, seated next to Harry, smirked slightly as he said, "I just think it's about time some Gryffindors were vilified, that's all."
It was precisely the wrong thing to say. Harry's face clouded over instantly.
"You mean like Sirius was portrayed as a murderer and wrongfully imprisoned in Azkaban for years and years?" He glared at Draco with a stoniness worthy of Severus. "Or the way Remus was turned into a monster and effectively hounded out of his livelihood despite the fact that he was the best DADA prof we'd ever had? Or maybe the way Hermione was portrayed in fourth year thanks, in no small part, to you, simply because she was my friend and she was brave enough to make friends with someone from Durmstrang? Or perhaps you really mean like my fifth year, where I was labelled a lying lunatic simply for living my life and telling people the truth about my experiences? Is that what you meant?"
Draco had tried to interrupt at every full stop, but Harry was in a taking, and by the third question he was standing and looming over the blond boy, not letting Draco get in a word edgewise.
Harry continued, "She's covered for me and protected me, and she's letting people believe these awful lies instead of telling everyone that you and I got together before Viktor ever came to Hogwarts because that keeps us safer, because it means that you and I won't be attacked. You'd be in serious trouble right now, Draco Malfoy, if Hermione wasn't a great deal more understanding of you than you are of her."
Hermione didn't know what to feel now. She could see that Draco was struggling to respond without anger. She appreciated that Harry had come to her defence but now found herself once again in the awkward position of having come between the two of them. She agreed with Harry, too, and thought it had been a stupid comment for Draco to have made, but she was also aware that Draco hadn't meant it the way Harry had taken it, and she wondered if Harry wasn't taking out some of his frustrations with a different Slytherin on the nearest target to hand.
Draco also wasn't in the best of moods today because in a few hours, the Slytherin team would be playing their first match in years without him as Seeker; the team had made it clear that he was not welcome anymore. Flying with both the opposing team and his own team trying to unseat him would have been the height of foolishness, so he had reluctantly stepped down. Draco loved to fly as much as Harry did, though, so he was feeling about what Harry had in fifth year when Umbridge had grounded him and the twins.
Despite the fact that this argument was sort of her fault, she knew that she couldn't keep trying to fix all the disagreements in their relationship; that wasn't her job, it was theirs. Seizing upon her resolution while it held strong, she rose from her chair. She passed Draco on her way towards the door and leaned down closer to him.
She spoke quietly so that he would hear her but Harry wouldn't. "Just remember how much you care for him—and then think about how screwed up my relationship with Severus is. The two of you are doing just fine."
Raising her voice, she smiled back at the still irate-looking Harry.
"I have to go see a person about a thing. I'll be back later."
Harry shot her a look that was completely puzzled, but she just offered him an approximation of a calming smile and continued out the door.
There was really only one place she felt able to go, and she walked briskly to her destination and then knocked resolutely on the door.