When Hermione whirled round to face her attacker, wand in hand, she was rather shocked to see that it was Ron.
"I have to talk to you," he said roughly.
The redheaded boy hadn't sought her out in months. In fact, it felt as though it had been far longer than that since they had stopped speaking to one another. Oh, they had had plenty of entirely civil conversation when they encountered one another in her quarters or at meals or in classes, but it had been quite a while indeed since he had asked to speak with her specifically about a problem that he was having which didn't involve school work.
Given that the grip on her arm was likely to leave bruises, she rather doubted that academics were on his mind at the moment.
She also didn't think that he was about to apologize. The look on his face was rather a dead giveaway, and she didn't understand why he always insisted on making a scene in a corridor.
"Ron," she said once he had dragged her off by her elbow down a deserted hallway, "now is not the time or place, although I'd be happy to speak with you should you wish it."
Happy was perhaps a stretch, but she wouldn't mind reopening the avenues of communication if he was truly open to the idea. She had learnt a long time ago that making an effort without him doing the same was an exercise in futility.
Ron let out a snort. "Happy to speak with me," he scoffed. "I know you're not. But you're going to listen while I speak to you!"
She let out a sigh, not even trying to suppress it, but she did attempt to make her tone level and reasonable. "Could we not do this in my quarters, then?"
"We're going to do it right here and right now!" he snapped. "Before you can slither off."
She clenched her jaw and didn't bother rising to that rather clumsy baiting. She knew it wasn't going to go well when he'd already started tossing out the snake metaphors at this stage in the conversation.
"Speak, then," she said. "I have other places to be."
His face grew red. "I'm sure you do, but you are going to listen to me and stay out of my business with Krum!"
He was being far too emphatic given the number of sentences he'd spoken, and it was starting to get on her nerves. If he wanted to chastise her for what she'd said to Viktor, then he had the completely wrong end of the stick.
"I assure you, Ron," she said flatly, "that you have every reason to be grateful for what I've said to Viktor on your behalf."
His mouth twisted into a sneer. "You and Viktor won't be so close forever. You can't control him."
"I'm not trying to control him," she responded, maintaining her even tone with an effort. "I did try to reason with him about you, however."
His expression darkened. "I knew it! They told me the two of you were arguing and that my name came up. You might want him all to yourself, but he's not interested in your stupid books. He loves Quidditch, and I'm the one who has the Quidditch knowledge! Stop being such a busybody, Hermione!"
She glared at him through narrowed eyes. "You should have asked them to eavesdrop a little more carefully, Ron, because that isn't what happened at all."
"Then what did happen?" he demanded, clearly disbelieving.
"It's none of your business," she answered. "My argument was with Viktor, and I'm not going to have it batted about the school."
His expression grew cruel. "But you'll have everything else about you and Krum batted about, I take it? Spreading yourself around a little thin, aren't you?"
She had to recite the Elder Futhark alphabet again and remind herself that she'd been friends with Ron for years and knew that he was hot-headed and bloody stupid when he was angry.
"I'm going to assume," she said stiffly, "that you're speaking of all the friends I have. And now I'm going to walk away so that I don't have to permanently cross you off that list."
She did exactly that.
"I'm not done speaking to you!" he spat angrily.
Her voice was flat and definite. "Yes, you are. You're entirely done, Ronald, and if you know what's good for you, you won't raise this subject again."
"I ought to—"
"You really should not."
She turned back at the new voice and found to her mingled dismay and pleasure that it was Viktor who had found the two of them in the midst of this argument. Judging from the angry look on his face, he'd heard a fair bit of the conversation.
Ron looked entirely mutinous, making it clear that he was going to attempt to brazen his way through whatever chastising he thought he was about to receive.
"Mr Veasley," Viktor said sternly, and Hermione saw the slightest wince go through Ron's frame. He'd been "Ron" before, she knew, and the step back to the unfamiliar form of address did not bode well. "You and I are going to go have a talk in my office about vhere not to argue, and then ve are going to have a talk about vhat a good friend Hermione is and how undeserving you are of her."
Ron opened his mouth as though to start protesting immediately, but a stern glare from Viktor made him close it again. Viktor gave her a look that intimated that this was going to be a long discussion. She mouthed, "Be nice," at Viktor, although it was likely more than Ron deserved at this point, and with a slight shaking of his head in bemusement, Viktor headed off with the redhead in tow.
What Ron was about to find out, she imagined, was that the two of them had been arguing about him—in the library, which was not, apparently, the best location for that sort of discussion—but only because Viktor had been made privy to exactly what had caused the split between the golden trio to begin with. Once he knew what Ron had said about her, he had been determined not to speak to Ron again unless absolutely necessary in a professional capacity.
Hermione knew how important Quidditch was to Ron and how much he idolized Viktor, so she had interceded and argued Viktor back into being civil to Ron. Viktor hadn't exactly been pleased, but he had capitulated.
It was far from flattering that Ron would truly believe her capable of sabotaging his relationship with someone he admired like that, and she wondered if he was ever going to grow up and learn to think before he spoke.
If they'd been on speaking terms, she could at least have harangued him about it in private and then this would all have been over and done with; instead, Viktor was now involved and with her luck, it would soon be all over the school. She only hoped that Viktor didn't subject Ron to much point loss or detention, or she'd be likely not to make it up with the redhead before they graduated.
Honestly, though, she would have thought even Ron would have learnt not to yell at her in the middle of the hallway by now. She was probably just lucky that Harry hadn't happened upon them as well with Draco to heckle Ron. That would have made the horror complete.
She hurried down to lunch before Harry and Draco could worry that she really had been injured in some way. She reassured the two of them that she was fine, noticed that neither Ron nor Viktor appeared for the meal, ate hurriedly, and then headed off to Arithmancy with Draco. The Slytherin kept shooting the occasional glance at her, reminding her to Mask her emotions and stop thinking about what a prat Ron could be.
After class, she sent Draco off to get Harry and then tracked Viktor down to remind him why it would not actually be very helpful if Ron was made to suffer in too extreme a manner.
Ron came to dinner almost hunched in on himself, clearly expecting the worst. When it became apparent to him that it hadn't immediately become public knowledge that he'd been taken sternly to task by Viktor, the redhead appeared nominally chastened, a great deal relieved, and then he was back to his normal self, piling food onto his plate and eating as though he'd not been fed in a week.
That was one disaster averted, at least, and once she applied the bruise salve to her arm, she could put the incident out of her mind entirely.
The next day, Hermione left lunch early; she wanted to pop in and take a look at all her plants because she was starting the Weresbane on Sunday. Although both Draco and Harry would have helped, she knew they didn't find caring for plants the most exhilarating task ever, so she didn't mind telling them to stay where they were.
To her surprise, she hadn't made it far down the corridor before she was once again stopped with a hand on her arm. This time, Ron looked unexpectedly genuinely chastened, and he was polite when he asked to speak to her privately. She cast charms around the nearest empty classroom and perched on a desk as she waited for him to have his say.
He paced for a few minutes at the front of the classroom and then stopped and faced her, saying abruptly, "I'm sorry that I was so rude to you yesterday, Hermione."
She sighed. "Ron, thanks for your apology, but if you're saying it solely because Viktor has forced you, I'd really rather you didn't."
For a moment, he looked as though he was going to get angry, the tell-tale flush pinking the tips of his ears, but then he sighed loudly instead and leaned back against the teacher's desk at the front of the classroom.
"It was stupid of me to accuse you of sabotage," he admitted. "I can obviously do that well enough on my own. Our relationship has been pretty rocky for months now." Understatement of understatements. "And I let my imagination run away with me. I know you wouldn't intentionally hurt me."
"I wouldn't," she agreed, "but sometimes I'm not sure the same can be said of you."
He winced. "And I probably deserved that. You know me." He gave a shame-faced shrug. "Once my temper gets the better of me, I end up belching slugs."
She smiled involuntarily.
He continued slowly and reluctantly, "It … wasn't very easy for me when you and Harry left me behind."
"Ron—" she protested, but he held up his hand to halt her.
"I know you didn't mean to, and I know it probably wasn't as bad as it seemed in my head, but suddenly it was the two of you spending all this time together, and then once both of you were upset with me—rightly so, I know—it just got worse. I didn't feel like I had much to fight back with when it was against the two of you, and by the time I was ready to admit that I was being stupid, I couldn't do it. Everybody knew that we were fighting, and I'm not very good at public apologies. I just kept making it worse." He grimaced. "And then Malfoy joined you, and I really felt like I'd been replaced, and I still hate the ferret," he said fiercely, ending more tentatively, "but it's pretty clear that the two of you don't."
"We've gotten to know him," she agreed. "We've spent a lot of time with him that you haven't. Neither of us is saying he hasn't been a complete prat." She eyed Ron, contemplating whether or not she could say what she was thinking.
His lips tipped up, and he added the words for her: "But so have I. And more recently than him, by the look of things."
She smiled slightly, although there was sadness in her voice. "We're not children anymore. It's not always going to be the same as it was then."
He nodded, but he looked unhappy. "I'm used to being Harry's best friend."
"And I'm sure he'd be happy to continue to think of you as such," she said earnestly. "But not when you're being a complete and utter prat."
"Malfoy—" he began.
She shook her head and said firmly, "He isn't Harry's best friend. Not like you. You must have noticed."
Surely even Ron couldn't be so blind?
He looked faintly ill, and she suspected that she'd just dashed his last hope that that particular fact was just another nasty rumour made up by the Daily Prophet. But there was really no point in their becoming friends again for all of a few days before Ron learned definitively about Harry and Draco with his own eyes. If he couldn't handle it when they were talking about it, then it was better to know now.
"I'm happy to be friendly again, Ron, honestly I am, but I have to warn you that we're not about to stop spending a lot of time with Draco."
He grimaced, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he pushed away from the desk to come stand beside her. "I don't like it."
"I know," she said simply. "But you need to at least be civil if you don't want to risk ruining your relationship with Harry entirely. Harry doesn't take kindly to anyone insulting his friends."
Ron drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I can be civil."
Her top lip curled up, but she attempted to say very solemnly, "Of course you can."
His nose wrinkled, and he nudged her in the side with his elbow. "Oy! You're supposed to be supportive."
She broke down and laughed, and his face finally relaxed as he laughed with her.
"Remember to play nicely, then, and you can join us for dinner tonight."
He nodded. "Perhaps I'd better sit beside you?"
She smiled slightly. "I'll safely shield you from the horror that is Draco, yes."
He nudged her again, still clearly in good humour. She felt better than she had in a long time as the two of them separated, and she continued on to her conservatory.
As far as she knew, she was one of the only people in the school who was aware of the conservatory's existence, and since she had moved all her plants necessary for the Wolfsbane and Weresbane to it, it was warded to the hilt.
One of the techniques Solace's journals had taught her was how to ward extensively and then obscure the wards so that it wasn't immediately obvious to anyone in the vicinity that there was a highly warded area nearby.
Slipping through her wards, she found that everything was in good order, and she headed on to Herbology with a light heart.
Ron apparently took the scenic route from Herbology because she, Harry, and Draco were already seated at the Gryffindor table and had their plates half-served when Ron arrived and slid into the seat next to her. The serving fork Harry was using froze before it had managed to pierce a piece of chicken and bring it to his plate. Draco's expression was a very haughty glare.
"Hey, Hermione," Ron said as he began to immediately shovel food onto his plate. She thought this was at an even more accelerated speed than normal, perhaps due to his nervousness.
"Hi, Ron," she greeted the redhead, calmly spooning more mashed potatoes onto her plate. "Did you enjoy Herbology?"
"It was fine," he said absently as he added an obscene amount of gravy to the mound of food he was soon going to consume. "You, er, done with that chicken, Harry?"
Boys were stupid; Hermione knew that. Harry was clearly not done, but he evidently heard what Ron was really asking because he looked fleetingly to her, and when she smiled at him, he passed the whole plate of chicken around her and to Ron.
"Yes, I have done," he answered. "Would you like some, Ron?"
Ron looked ever-so-slightly relieved now and nodded enthusiastically as he helped himself to several pieces.
"Yes, thanks."
Draco was still looking faintly disgusted.
She could see Ron steeling himself and was impressed with the mildness of his tone when he asked, "Did you want any, Malfoy?"
Surprise now showed on the Malfoy scion's face, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. She certainly didn't want to set Ron off, as that would without doubt be taken the wrong way.
"Thank you, Weasley," Draco managed with a praiseworthy attempt at evenness of his own. If that didn't clarify how he felt about Harry, she didn't know what could. "It seems that Harry hasn't actually grasped the concept of serving himself, so perhaps it would be better if I took charge of getting him some chicken."
"Hey," Harry protested, but there was general laughter from everyone else, and the overall tension eased on their end of the table; it had been months since Ron had sat anywhere near them, and it seemed that everyone else didn't know what to expect. Now they seemed to have agreed that no instantaneous fireworks would be forthcoming, and the meal resumed.
Hermione couldn't have been more pleased. Well, not unless Severus had arrived at the Gryffindor table, declared his undying love, and swept her off to his quarters, but that possibility seemed really rather remote.
This was still quite good.
Since they'd just been reunited with Ron, Harry invited him down for tea after dinner, and Ron immediately accepted. A half hour later, they were chatting nearly like the old friends that they were supposed to be.
Hermione remembered the same thing occurring when Ron and Harry had finally made up during the Triwizard Tournament, a reset as though the months of estrangement hadn't occurred. Given that they were also sitting in the room with Draco and had set aside years of animosity, Hermione supposed it wasn't actually that strange.
Since it was a Thursday, they were expecting Viktor. When he had first arrived, he had asked to arrange a time to speak to her and Harry, ostensibly because as Head Boy and Head Girl they would be in an excellent position to share with him the student body's opinion on his teaching technique. They weren't personally in any of his classes, and she knew little about brooms and less about Quidditch.
Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that what he really wanted to do was chat with his friends. Fraternization between professors and students was by no means officially forbidden, but it could cause problems if other students were jealous. Since they were talking about an international Quidditch star, that sort of went without saying, thus the quasi-official reason for the visits.
When the gargoyle announced Viktor, Hermione rose to let him in, and once he was inside the room, she threw her arms around him.
"Thank you," she murmured somewhere in the vicinity of his neck, hoping he could see Ron in the room and work out what she was on about.
But the entire Weasley clan had not been able to knock any sense into Ron, and whatever Viktor had said to the redhead in one evening had apparently worked miracles.
Viktor hugged her back. "You are very velcome, mila moya. I am only happy I could help."
She drew back and beamed up at him. "It means a lot to all of us."
"Then I am vell revarded."
"Come have tea," she invited warmly.
She left Viktor with one of the armchairs since Ron was in the other and she thought it would be easier all round if she sat on the couch with Harry and Draco.
It took Ron about five minutes to gear up the courage to address Viktor directly in this informal setting, and then he was off about some Quidditch manoeuvre or other, and Hermione wondered if they'd ever remember that they were theoretically discussing Viktor's teaching practices. Given the group she was with, she thought fondly, it seemed unlikely.
No disasters marred the evening, and by the time Viktor and Ron left, it was clear that Harry had never been happier, and Hermione was quite sure that Draco was going to get a rather spectacular reward for good behaviour.
It was working out well for everyone all round, really, and Hermione gave them some sort of an excuse that she was pretty sure they didn't hear before she bid them goodnight—at all of nine in the evening—and headed into her bedroom and then into her lab.
She didn't have any intention of brewing at the moment, but she did have a very specific task that could easily occupy her no matter how much sex Harry and Draco were having even if they were having it in the common room.
Harry had been easy enough to put off yesterday because he had known that she was completely embarrassed by what had happened in Transfiguration and didn't want to talk about it. But Hermione needed very much to know what was going on, and she was taking Minerva's advice to heart; an answer was sure to present itself if she applied herself assiduously enough.
Although she still didn't understand why, she had quite gathered through empirical evidence that she was incapable of transforming into a bookshelf and books.
It galled a little, but she could see the sense in starting as simply as possible now and working her way up, figuring out where her cut-off point was.
This salutary plan suffered an immediate check when her attempt to turn herself into a small chair—one material, approximately her own size—failed just as spectacularly as her original effort had done.
Sitting on the floor, breathing hard, and once again sure that what she had just tried to do was viscerally wrong, she began to think that perhaps she needed a new strategy. She had the feeling that further attempts were not only going to have the same results but that they had the potential to be hazardous to her health. It didn't feel, at any rate, like something she could just push through. The feeling of wrongness lingered, and she imagined that it was probably with good reason.
When Minerva had spoken to Hermione on the matter, she had suggested that Hermione was experiencing a block. This hypothesis was becoming more and more likely, as far as Hermione could see, but she had the feeling that going back to Minerva and trying to explain about this "wrongness" wouldn't be very wise. Which meant that she thought—whether she'd made the decision consciously or not—that what was going on was related to Pure Adults. Which meant that there was a different expert whom she needed to go see.
Hermione drank a mug of tea as she waited to recover completely from the unsettling feelings that the attempt to transform produced, and then she Masked herself and headed out of her bedroom.
Harry and Draco had actually made it out of the common room, and she was easily able to make her way into the corridor, through the secret exit, and out to the Forbidden Forest.
Transforming into a unicorn once she was safely out of sight, Hermione cantered towards the unicorn's valley. She was unMasked enough that it was easy for Castina to sense her, and the herd mare arrived before Hermione had got halfway to her destination.
You are troubled, Berit.
Hermione wasn't sure if that was emotional leakage on her part or a fair guess based on her usual state when she came out to the Forest.
I'm having a problem with something that is rather routine for a wizard. I'm wondering if it's to do with me like this. With being a Pure Adult.
And what is your problem?
I cannot transform into inanimate objects. I tried a bookshelf with books, then a simple chair, and all I'm getting is this sense that it's wrong, that I shouldn't be doing it.
Ah.
Hermione eyed Castina and asked pointedly, Oh?
You are a living, breathing Pure Adult. You are not meant to be inanimate.
Hermione considered the many ways to respond to this comment. Regular wizards were living, breathing humans, and surely they weren't meant to be inanimate, either. But she had come to understand that Pure Adults tended to be a special case.
So I won't ever be able to transform into something that is not living?
Why would you want to?
Citing academic requirements was probably not the sort of answer that Castina was looking for, and Hermione kind of understood her point—certainly from a unicorn's perspective.
So I'll just have to avoid it?
Yes, Berit. Said as though she understood that Hermione was having trouble with this concept but thought it was as clear as crystal herself.
Hold on, Hermione said, frowning mentally. Harry transformed just fine. Is this one of those 'me as a unicorn' rather than Pure Adult things?
Fawkes?
The phoenix was brought up to speed on the debate and offered his theory.
Boy-bird transformed very specifically, perhaps by instinct. He chose to transform into fire, and that is always a close association for a phoenix.
This actually made a good deal of sense to Hermione; Harry usually did pretty well by his instincts. Unfortunately for her, she could think of no convenient equivalent inanimate object for her to transform into.
It was looking as though she was going to have to inform Minerva that she was permanently blocked and hope that the woman didn't ask for a more detailed explanation.
Maybe Minerva would let Hermione do some other extra credit task to make up for it.
Hermione spent several hours out in the Forest visiting her whole herd, enjoying the time to catch up as well as the opportunity to refresh in the light.
She made her way back inside with no one the wiser and found that she had not been missed when she got back to her common room. At the next available opportunity, she would mention the transformation problem to Harry, she decided, since it wouldn't do for him to appear blocked in class as well; two aberrations were likely to seem suspicious.
For now, though, she would get some sleep and hope that tomorrow would be a more successful day than the last couple had been.
On Friday evening, she, Harry, and Draco were gathered in their common room having a nice, quiet night in. Her bracelet heated, and she and Harry checked their wrists at the same time to see that Kingsley had arrived at the school. There had been no indication that there was to be a training session tonight or that the Auror would be attending it, so it seemed that he was here on official business—which tended to involve Harry when the Head of the Aurors came to speak with Albus.
They rose in unison, causing Draco's eyebrow to rise.
"You know I hate it when you do that. Where are we going?" She and Harry exchanged glances, and Draco let out a longsuffering sigh. "It's a Gryffindor-only event, I take it?"
Harry smiled. "We'll explain as soon as we get back."
"Very well," Draco said very regally as he lounged back on the couch. "I shall be expecting you."
Given that this is our room, that seems a rather safe bet, Hermione observed with a bit of tartness.
Harry wisely chose to say nothing, and the two of them headed upstairs and "happened" to run into Kingsley in the entranceway.
"Mr Potter, Miss Granger, how fortuitous. I wished to speak to the Head Boy and the Head Girl as well as the headmaster. Can you spare a moment?"
"Of course, sir," they agreed readily.
Albus was waiting for them in his office, and they were all seated with tea before the headmaster began, eyes twinkling brilliantly.
"Kingsley, what a pleasant surprise. I hope you're not having a problem with these two?"
Kingsley offered a slow smile. "Nothing that's come to the attention of the Auror Department, Albus. I ran into them as I was heading up and thought to tell all of you at the same time."
"What's happened?" Albus asked more sharply, sounding alert and powerful.
"Hopefully nothing to be concerned about," Kingsley answered. "The Auror Department received two more orange-proof scrolls this morning. Stebbins informed me as well as the Minister; that's the protocol we now have in place to prevent any misappropriation of information."
Albus was now smiling faintly, eyes twinkling again. "What information did these scrolls contain?"
"The scrolls made us aware of a power augmentation indicating that there are no more Pure Adults. Now, if this were a result of Voldemort's handiwork, I feel certain we would already have been advised in a rather less pleasant way. Therefore, the danger is past, and you need not look so carefully anymore, Hermione, Harry, although it would still be beneficial to know who these two individuals are."
Albus was nodding, but his eyes were twinkling like mad.
Kingsley's eyes narrowed. "You don't seem terribly shocked by this news, Albus."
"Not terribly, no," the headmaster said smoothly.
It seemed in moments like these that nothing delighted the headmaster more than being one step ahead of the person to whom he was speaking.
Kingsley's head cocked to one side. "Will you be looking for these two powerful witches or wizards?"
The headmaster smiled. "There's no need. As it happens, they are—"
Hermione and Harry rose as one, the wash of power that emanated from them cutting off Albus's announcement, making the objects on his desk rattle, and pinning Kingsley and Albus to their seats.
"You forget yourself," Harry said sternly.
Hermione's tone matched his. "That is not information you have the right to disseminate."
Fortunately for his continued health and safety, the twinkle in his eyes was dimmed, but his words weren't exactly conciliating.
"You have just revealed yourselves."
"As you say," Harry said. "We revealed ourselves."
"And you mistake," Hermione said, not mincing words, "if you imagine that we could not Obliviate you so that you don't even remember that Kingsley came here tonight." She let that thought linger for a moment before smiling slightly. "Fortunately, Harry and I are generally fond of you and usually more forgiving than that. Despite your current behaviour, we trust that you can keep a secret, Albus, and we have no reason to doubt your word, Kingsley."
"You've known all this time." Kingsley sought confirmation.
"We've protected ourselves all this time," Hermione corrected. "As you can see, the more people who know, the more the information tends to get out. You're the fourth person to know besides Harry and me."
Kingsley could clearly do the math.
He cleared his throat, and declared, "Right. Officially, the Ministry considers the matter closed; you are now adults with the right to use your power as you will. Unofficially, the Ministry is somewhat more concerned, worried that Voldemort could still take advantage of all that power even if he didn't get it for himself." He smiled. "I must say it's a relief to know there's no chance of that."
Harry's smile was fierce. "No, it definitely wasn't Voldemort's lucky day when it turned out to be the two of us."
"Unofficially on my front, then, I will naturally do whatever you wish to protect your secret and assist you."
"Thank you, Kingsley," they said together.
Although they'd been doing rather well on their own so far, it was nice to know that they had someone on the inside who could run interference as necessary.
Kingsley rose. "I guess that's everything. I confess this wasn't exactly how I thought this meeting would go, but you always seem to be well ahead of the rest of us."
Hermione was certain that he was including her and Harry in that assessment as much as Albus, so she responded with a smile, "We are privy to some interesting information."
He nodded. "The information has been leaked to the Prophet and will appear in tomorrow's edition. We want to make sure that everyone is aware there's no need to search for virgins anymore, as this keeps as many people as possible safe."
"Of course," Albus said, and she and Harry nodded their agreement.
"I must say," Kingsley added, "that the two of you did an excellent job of eluding detection by both Voldemort and the Ministry."
They smiled once again.
"It was all Hermione," Harry pointed out. "She's brilliant at protecting us."
"So I see," Kingsley said before she could voice a protest that looked likely to fall on deaf ears.
She supposed she really had become a bit of a mastermind when it came to the issue of Pure Adults. Since she had found Solace's journals, it was probably true that she knew details of the lives of more Pure Adults than anyone else in the world.
"I will leave it in your hands to inform those Order members who need to be informed?" Kingsley asked.
The headmaster smiled. "Of course, my boy, of course."
Hermione supposed that anyone who'd been taught by Albus qualified as a boy to him, but she did find it a bit of a stretch to address the Head of the M.L.E. as such. Kingsley only smiled.
"Goodnight, Albus."
Hermione and Harry followed him out, neither of them wanting to be left alone in the office with Albus in case he did something creepy like ask them for details about the change in their status. She wasn't altogether convinced—despite how he had acted—that Albus had known for certain that they were no longer Pure Adults until Kingsley had told him. But she didn't want to start wagering on how much he knew about her and Severus.
As they began to descend the stairs, Kingsley observed, "I suppose I should check in with Tonks while I'm here."
"You might rather not," Hermione answered with a smirk.
"Oh?" he inquired mildly.
Hermione nodded. "Remus is here ostensibly visiting me, but despite the fact that he arrived hours ago, I've yet to see him."
A broad smile graced Kingsley's face. "She hasn't been this open to teasing in years. Now I'll have to go see what she's up to."
Harry smiled widely in turn but attempted to say with seriousness, "I'm sure I should really be monitoring Remus more closely, too. He's the closest thing I have to a parent, and look at the example he's setting."
Hermione shook her head. "Just think how you would feel if it were you who were having some much-needed quiet time with your significant other."
Harry made a face at her. "Now you're just taking all the fun out of it. You've got to admit it's amusing to see what excuses they come up with about what they're doing when you find them."
Tonks and Remus still had a tendency to act as though they were school children who weren't supposed to be engaging in carnal activities. As a result, there were all kinds of "teaching sessions" (because Remus had done this for a year, so he could give her pointers) and "grading sessions" (because any professor could use some help and Remus really knew the material) and "visits to an old friend" (because it would be rude not to stop by when he was in the area) and "defence training sessions" (because it was important for both of them to keep their skills honed).
Hermione personally had no problem with the two of them saying that they wanted some time to shag like rabbits, but after being caught in Room One, while they made no attempt to deny that they were together, they seemed to think it important to have "legitimate" reasons to get together in Tonks's quarters. Hermione sincerely hoped that on some level, they realized how ridiculous they were being.
Tonks's quarters, as well as her classroom, were in the Hufflepuff region of the dungeon. As though their descent into the lower regions of the castle had Summoned him, Severus appeared just as they stepped off of the staircase into the lower level. Hermione threw up privacy charms.
"Kingsley," Severus said politely. "What brings you to the dungeons?"
Hermione wished that she garnered that tone of address more often.
"I needed to see Albus," the man responded, looking at them fleetingly and saying no more.
"I would tell him even if Albus did not," she answered the unspoken question.
Kingsley gaze was very sharp, and then offered her a nod. He, it seemed, had fully accepted that the details of this information were hers and Harry's to disseminate at their discretion.
"Tell me what?" Severus demanded.
Not so polite a tone for her. She toyed for an instant with the notion of demanding a respectful tone before she answered, but knew she'd still be waiting for it when she got out of detention three months from now.
"The Ministry has been advised that there are no more Pure Adults," Hermione answered. "It's going to be in tomorrow's Prophet."
"Who advised the Ministry?" he asked, his tone icy.
She gritted her teeth. As if she would have made that information public without at least informing him beforehand. It hadn't even occurred to her to consider making some sort of anonymous announcement. She didn't think it likely that the Ministry would have believed them without more proof than she was willing to give.
At her side, Harry stiffened and answered, "No one advised the Ministry. It was orange-proof scrolls, just like the first time."
There was no hint of apology in Severus's tone. "How fortunate for the Ministry that a previous employee actually knew what he or she was doing. That fails to explain what you are doing down in the dungeons. Albus's offices are in the opposite direction, as I recall."
Hermione's loud cough mostly drowned out Harry's "well spotted".
Kingsley was looking at them oddly, but all he said was, "No trip to the castle is complete without a visit to the Auror Department's own, although it's looking to be more intrusive than I'd originally intended."
Severus made a face of distaste. "Don't tell me the wolf is here."
Hermione managed to keep her tone almost entirely earnest-sounding. "Unless you know something we don't, I doubt he's in wolf form at the moment."
Harry stared at her blankly and then dissolved into laughter.
"'Mione," he spluttered. "I've now got this completely horrible image in my head, and it's all your fault. You're evil."
From the look on Severus's face, he had a horrible image in his head as well, and she didn't much regret that she'd put it there. If he was going to continue to call Remus by names that he meant derogatorily, then she was going to fight back.
Kingsley's lips had curved into a smile again. Well, Hermione had always thought that Tonks was quirky.
"It's so delightful to visit you, Hermione," Kingsley said with relish. "Life remains entertaining. Shall we?"
She nodded, as she wasn't the one who had stopped them in the middle of the corridor, and they headed on. They hadn't made it more than a few steps along before they were interrupted once more.
"Is there a party and I wasn't invited?"
Draco had joined them. Harry nodded solemnly.
"It was one of those 'No Dracos allowed' parties. Sorry, love."
Draco offered his most haughty expression. "I suspected as much. I will, naturally, attend anyway."
"I rather suspected you would," Harry conceded easily. "Kingsley is on his way to see Tonks. I think we've announced it to nearly everyone."
"Except Remus," Hermione observed wryly.
Draco made a face. "Oh, don't tell me they're still at it? Honestly, how much time do they need?"
Harry pressed his lips together, and it was hard to tell whether he was stopping laughter or an expression of distaste given the mental images he was still stuck with.
"We could always go back to our rooms and never find out," Hermione suggested.
Harry shook his head. "I have to know now."
Hermione laughed. "If you say so. You're the one who might be scarred for life."
"It doesn't bother you, I take it?"
She shrugged. "I've had plenty of practice catching people I don't particularly want to see naked in flagrante delicto."
As she had known would happen, Harry coloured, causing both Severus and Kingsley to look at him sharply. Draco shook his head.
"I think you're going to have to have that looked at, Harry. It's getting to where I can't take you anywhere without risking all my secrets getting out."
"Miss Granger is in the habit of finding the two of you without your clothing on?"
Hermione wondered how it was, exactly, that this fact had been reversed to being her fault. Harry had noticed the shift, too, and was frowning at the Potions master. There was even a slight furrow in Draco's brow. She chose to ignore the lot of them and turned to Kingsley.
"Are we going?"
It was hard to tell exactly how much he'd understood of the exchange that had just occurred—probably more than she wished—but he gallantly offering his arm regardless.
"Of course."
She and Kingsley headed down the corridor. It was only a few steps before the others fell into line, and she was relieved when Severus didn't immediately raise the topic again. She should have guessed, she supposed, that mention of naked Harry would be her fault somehow.
Kingsley was the one to knock on Tonks's door when they didn't find her in her office. Hermione wondered if she was only imagining that she heard several muffled bangs and thumps from within. It took a good thirty seconds before the door was answered, and the pink-haired Auror looked distinctly dishevelled when her head appeared in the six-inch gap between the door and the frame.
Her eyes widened slightly when she saw who was on the other side.
"Kingsley. Wotcher, everyone. What brings you?"
She even sounded slightly out of breath, and Hermione knew that they were all wondering just what she had been doing a moment ago to get her into precisely that state.
"Kingsley's just been to see Albus," Harry informed her.
Kingsley went next, voice very bland. "It would hardly be polite not to visit you, too."
"Right," Tonks said, looking completely flustered as she no doubt realized that she should invite her boss in. "That's very thoughtful of you. I, er…."
"All right," Hermione said sternly, "that's enough. We're just headed to Room One. If you feel up to it, you can join us there later."
Since Kingsley still had her arm, she simply started off down the hall with him in tow, and she soon had a bemused following.
"You're a spoilsport, Hermione," Draco protested.
"I would not wish to be hassled in a similar situation," she repeated, not that she could really imagine even Harry and Draco being stupid enough to give Severus a hard time like that. She smiled hopefully at Kingsley. "You can't leave the castle without at least a short training session, can you?"
Kingsley smiled down at her, agreeing obediently, "Of course not." He leaned closer to say softly, "Although I begin to wonder who is benefiting from them."
"Perhaps it is a mutually beneficial arrangement," she responded with an answering smile. "Power is useless if you can't use it properly."
They were uneven numbers once they reached Room One, and Kingsley immediately suggested Severus, Draco, and himself against her and Harry. The two of them immediately accepted, although Draco was shaking his head.
"It never works quite as well as you hope it will," he pointed out.
This continued to be true today. Hermione could tell that Kingsley was putting more force behind his spells than he had on his previous visits. The look on Harry's face said that he'd noticed, too.
He's not here as often as the others, she pointed out. He mightn't have wanted to demoralize us.
Harry half-nodded, half-shrugged. I guess. I suppose we're a bit young to be going up against the Head of the Aurors under normal circumstances.
I don't think most people put every ounce of power they have into training; better to have a reserve for the real battle.
But now he's curious.
Seems like, she agreed.
They'd managed to Stun Draco when Tonks and Remus arrived; they'd at least had the sense to arrive together and not pretend that they hadn't just been in Tonks's rooms. Tonks immediately identified just what kind of session they were having, and she joined Kingsley and Severus. Remus, bless his Gryffindor heart, tried to join Hermione and Harry and make the two sides even, but he had to leap out of the way of a spell shot his way by Severus. Tonks called him over, and Hermione and Harry were polite enough not to attack him before he'd switched sides.
"They don't need any help, trust me," Tonks told him with certainty.
Their four opponents immediately tried to surround them, and Harry and Hermione threw up a shield in tandem.
"No shields!" Severus admonished.
Hermione and Harry exchanged looks.
He's trying to create a battle scenario? she said, her disbelief sounding clearly even in her own mind.
Harry snorted. Right, he said sarcastically. You and I are brain-damaged and can't remember how to cast shields, just every other spell we know. That's an entirely likely scenario.
She smiled at him. That leaves Masking, doesn't it?
And do we get to tell him to bugger off if he tells us not to do that? Harry asked hopefully.
We can think it loudly, she responded with amusement. I've reached my quota of detention threats for the year.
Very well, Harry agreed. On three?
On three, both they and their shield disappeared.
Tonks swore. "I hate it when they do this."
Severus also evidently remembered the last time she'd Masked herself for training because he straightaway backed himself into a corner so that she couldn't sneak up on him as she had then. Seeing the wisdom of what he'd done, the other three moved to do the same. She and Harry were back to back in the middle of the room.
It had taken them some practice before they had been able to detect one another when they were both Masked well enough to function in a battle scenario. She thought it had something to do with the MindSpeech and that connection on the upper range of magical activity that Fawkes had explained to her so long ago. Perhaps it was simply practice. Or the fact that they were more powerful now than they had been before. Whatever it was, they could appear completely invisible to others and still see one another when they wished.
I'll get Tonks, and you get Kingsley, Harry suggested.
Then drop, Hermione added, because Severus and Remus will be casting at the origin of our spell-fire.
Harry nodded his understanding, and an instant later, the two Aurors went down; she'd used a Stunner and Harry the full Body-Bind. Exactly what Hermione had hoped occurred; since Remus and Severus were in opposite corners, their spells missed her and Harry and headed towards one another, forcing them to block and leaving Hermione and Harry plenty of time to get out of the exposed area and creep to a wall.
'Mione, Harry complained. How can it be fair for him to shield himself if we're not allowed?
You expected him to be fair? she asked with amusement.
He was silent for a moment. Right. Never mind.
She laughed softly. Fortunately, Severus wasn't terribly precise in his wording. He didn't say anything about warding.
You're going to put up wards? Harry sounded confused. What good will that do?
You'll see, she said mischievously as she placed her hands against the nearest wall and began to cast. You may not want to be touching the wall, though.
Harry moved away from it with alacrity, and as Hermione finished casting, she pulled her hands away and rose.
Shall we show them up entirely?
Harry immediately nodded, and she realized that she was still feeling a bit bitter about Severus's behaviour towards her. He could be almost decent for a little while, but then he got all snarly again, and the vindictiveness, while a regular part of these training sessions, was beginning to wear on her.
There were only so many times that she could excuse him.
To the middle of the room, then, and unMask on my sign.
He sent her a mental look of confusion but did not question her. She waited until the delay on her ward had just about elapsed.
Now.
She and Harry appeared in the middle of the room, but even as Remus and Severus were raising their wands, they slumped, unconscious, to the floor.
"I love you, Hermione," Harry said happily. "I don't think I say it enough."
She smiled at him. "Love you, too, Harry. Now, go wake up Draco."
He immediately obeyed, and Draco's eyebrows rose as he took in the scene around him.
"What did I miss?" he asked.
"We were up against everyone and not allowed to use shields," Harry answered.
Draco's lips tipped up into a smirk. "Of course. It's so clear from this scene that you were at a disadvantage."
They smirked back.
"Although, to be fair," she admitted, "we probably couldn't do that in an actual battle scenario. There'd be too many people and we'd only get trampled by someone inadvertently or some such."
"Don't you dare say that when Snape is awake," Harry admonished sternly. "He doesn't need something else to cross off the list of spells we're allowed to use."
"So long as we're still allowed to cast spells, I think we'll always have a fighting chance," Hermione said philosophically since she wouldn't put it past Severus to just keep eliminating all the methods that had been used to defeat him in the past.
They revived all their victims.
"What on Earth was that?" Remus asked as he climbed to his feet. "You weren't casting from the middle of the room, were you?"
They shook their heads.
"How did you get past my shield?" Severus demanded.
Remus opened his mouth, no doubt to protest the shielding double standard, but she just shook her head slightly, and he closed it again, although he was frowning at her.
"I didn't," she responded easily. "Your shield was still in place when you were Stunned." She smiled. "You were Stunned from behind."
"The wall was behind me," Severus said with the tone of voice that indicated he thought she was being stupid.
She nodded. "A long expanse of wall, even. A wall that stretched all the way over to where I was, and a wall that was perfectly amenable to warding."
"You warded the wall to Stun us?" Remus asked, repeating the words as though they didn't make adequate sense.
She nodded.
"You did it just now, while we were hunting you?" She nodded once more. "God, that's brilliant."
Her smile deepened. "Thank you, Remus."
"You'll be all set if we battle in a building somewhere." Remus seemed quite pleased by this aptitude.
Harry was grinning widely now, too. "She won't have a problem if it's in a forest, either."
"Oh?"
Hermione cleared her throat. "We did some training in the Forbidden Forest. It went quite well."
Remus's lips curled. "Quite well by Hermione standards? Like curing lycanthropy was good?"
Hermione flushed slightly, and Harry laughed.
"Just like that," he agreed before she could respond.
So much for not saying anything that might annoy Severus. Of course, that seemed to happen when she came up no matter what, so perhaps there wasn't any hope for it. Especially given that she'd just Stunned him again.
"Do you really think you'd have the opportunity to set up wards in a battle scenario?" Severus asked.
"Severus, that isn't fair," Remus answered, and Hermione tried not to wince. Of course it wasn't fair. When had that ever mattered? "She was legitimately fighting us, and she had time to do it. That counts for a battle scenario, especially since she'd have the opportunity to use shields normally."
Oh, goody, throw more of what he was doing in his face. Severus was glaring at the whole group of Gryffindors stonily, and she almost managed to be amused that Harry was included despite the fact that he hadn't done anything in particular in this instance. Been present, she supposed, when Severus was Stunned.
"It's important that I use differing methods to disable my opponents," she said, wondering why it was she who was always defending him, especially when she was upset with him. "I could be injured in some way and need other options."
She studiously didn't look at Harry because she knew he would be thinking of his earlier brain injury comment.
"Warding is impractical in an outdoor setting," Severus said coldly.
"Funny," Harry immediately responded, "given that they're used outdoors all the time."
He had a point, really, but she rather wished that they'd all stop trying to defend her. Hadn't they learnt by now that Severus was always right when it came to issues of his authority? Even if he was wrong, he wouldn't concede that he shouldn't have restricted her as he had nor that she was right to have been able to get around it and Stun him again. They could argue about it for hours, and it wouldn't make a difference.
It simply didn't matter that much.
Severus's eyes were hard. "She could hardly set up wards outdoors that were supposed to Stun everyone."
She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. There was no call to go referring to her as though she wasn't even in the room. It was an interesting premise, though; perhaps she could start experimenting outside. When she was far away from all these friends of hers.
"She continues to be in the room," she said with an edge to her voice. Why did he have to be such an utter prat? AI worked with the environment that I was currently in, as I believe all of you did."
"Yeah," Harry agreed immediately. "Outside, there wouldn't be any corners for you to—"
Don't you dare end that sentence, Hermione interrupted sternly. You don't want to be in detention for a month, and neither do I.
"There are less corners outside," Harry ended lamely.
Severus looked as though he were still going to take umbrage, as he could no doubt end that sentence as easily as she could, but Draco interceded.
"Did you work that out all on your own, Harry? After seven years of schooling at the best school of wizardry in Europe? There are fewer corners outside?"
It was a comment that would have positively infuriated Harry if it had come from Severus, but from Draco, it made Harry smile.
"Maybe you should talk to Albus about fixing the curriculum," Harry suggested. "As a matter of fact, I did have to work it out on my own. I don't remember any classes about the layout of interior or exterior settings. Not everyone's as clever as the Boy Who Lived."
If that wasn't an invitation to cast aspersions on Harry, she didn't know what was. He had apparently decided that the way to get Severus to leave her alone was to draw the man's fire, and he'd picked the most viable target.
Remus leapt in with his own comment before Severus could do his worst.
"It's really quite impressive that you were able to cast the wards like that, Hermione."
He was trying to return the topic of discussion to their training session and get it out of less personal waters. In this case, however, they were back to talking about her again, which was not exactly ideal.
He hadn't seen her set the wards for any of the werewolves' cells, although he had witnessed Bill's struggle; it would have taken her more than thirty seconds to get comparable wards up here, but the one ward to Stun had been child's play, especially putting it up in Hogwarts.
"I have a talent with wards," she answered with an approximation of a smile, hoping that her statement wasn't taken by Severus to be tantamount to Harry's Boy Who Lived cleverness comment.
Remus responded before Severus could.
"You were up against some of the best the Ministry and the Order has to offer, and it didn't look as though you were ever worried. Even handicapped, you managed to defeat all of us soundly without injury to yourself. You and Harry are the only wizards I know besides Albus who can make yourselves invisible like that, and you obviously timed your reappearance with precision. You display an astonishing amount of power, but I can see that it's all in a day's work for you. I know you were only a child when I taught you, but it really is quite extraordinary how much the two of you have progressed."
She looked over at Harry as she wondered how much of that Remus had originally intended to say. She was guessing that the essence of the thought had been brewing for a long time, and he had finally decided to just up and comment. She knew that he wanted an answer, and there was really only one honest one that would make sense.
Well? she asked.
Harry gave a mental shrug. Yeah. If there's a time, this is probably it.
That was what she'd been thinking. Draco, Severus, Kingsley, and Albus already knew. Tonks and Remus were two of the most likely to put the answer together eventually given the training they witnessed. Hermione knew that the two of them could be trusted and would protect her and Harry. She hadn't had any delusions that she and Harry would be able to keep their status a secret forever; as the situation changed and developed, it became inevitable that the truth would come out. They weren't going to make it through the battle without some of their allies knowing what they were capable of.
She therefore smiled at the man who was as close to proper family as Harry had. "Kingsley came today not just for the pleasure of our company but to make an announcement to Albus. The Ministry has received news that there are no more Pure Adults."
Remus, Tonks, and Draco all looked startled, although Draco was looking more smirky than anything else. It was an expression very similar, in fact, to the one that Albus had worn when Kingsley had guessed that he was already aware of this fact.
Hermione drew a deep breath. Here went nothing. "Since the news was becoming public, we decided that it was time to confess—"
She cut off abruptly as she was wrenched around by her arm.
"Don't you dare!" Severus hissed, glaring at her with narrowed eyes and a fierce expression on his face.
She'd thought she had a handle on her emotions, she really had. But they'd already been stirred up by Albus and then poked and prodded by every stupid comment that Severus had made this evening, and now the last fragile strands of her control snapped.
For the second time, a golden wave of raw magical energy burst out of her.