Chapter Text
The sound of footsteps echoed throughout the hall. Two girls spoke to each other in hushed voices, neither of them in a hurry. “I just want a nice, quiet year.” The redhead next to her grinned teasingly, “I know. You want to spend your time hidden away in the library and pass the NEWTS with flying colors.”
The curly-haired brunette raised an eyebrow at her friend, “And that is a problem, how?” Ginny shrugged her shoulders as she pushed open the doors to the great hall. “It’s not. But if you think I am going to let you hide away all year with your nose in a book, then you are surely mistaken.”
The witch rolled her eyes as they stepped into the great hall. Students were everywhere, some speaking in hushed voices, while others were loud and rambunctious. Her eyes traveled over to the high table, scanning the professors who were chatting amongst one another. Hagrid was chatting with Slughorn, who looked like he would rather be talking to anyone else. McGonagall and Professor Sprout were in a hushed discussion with one another. And then, in the seat where professor Snape used to sit, was someone else. Someone with long dark curly hair and pale skin. Hermione blinked for a moment, suddenly frozen in her momentary anxiety. The person turned towards her. Dark eyes met her own brown ones, and painted red lips parted in surprise.
She was unable to move as she was suddenly thrust full force back into her memories of the war.
Her body convulsed on the ground and her back arched as a scream spilled from her lips. The woman crawled onto her, pinning her to the floor and pulling her sleeve down. Her widened golden brown eyes met dark ones. Hermione’s mouth was open as she tried to speak, but the woman on top of her shook her head and reached down to cover her mouth. “Hush,” she whispered. “Everything is going to be okay. Don’t be scared.” Her tone was soft and comforting, and for a moment she gently brushed the hair away from Hermione’s face. Then, it was like a mask slipped back onto the woman’s face.
Bellatrix snarled at her. “I’m going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?” Hermione was unprepared for how quickly the older woman’s tone had changed. Her hair was wild and her eyes wide with what looked like mania and anger. Faintly, she could hear the laughter from the other death eaters as they watched the scene. That’s when she realized she had to play along. “We found it-we found it!” She cried out, letting tears come to her eyes. There was a flash of surprise on the older witch’s face, but it quickly disappeared as the death eater gripped her arm tighter. “Not good enough!”
There was a slight stinging on her arm and Bellatrix leaned down so that her lips were next to her ear. “Keep playing along, darling. I would rather not use the imperius curse.” At her slight nod, the witch continued with the act. Hermione let out a blood-curdling scream as she begged the woman. “Please! I didn’t do anything.”
The act continued for what had felt like forever and Hermione’s voice was raw from screaming. She felt terrible, realizing that her friends had no idea that the ‘torture’ she was enduring was all fake. Bellatrix leaned down one more time, “Tremendous job. Just lay here and wait, I have someone coming to help you and your friends.”
A hand gripped onto her arm, tugging her out of her memory. Hermione turned to look at Ginny, who had a confused expression. The brunette shook her head, signaling they would talk later. The Weasley then pulled her towards the Gryffindor table. As they moved, Hermione glanced over at Bellatrix again. The woman was focused on conversing with Trelawny, no longer watching Hermione. Neville smiled brightly at them when they sat down and was quick to engage them in conversation until the sorting happened.
Watching the sorting ceremony left Hermione feeling a little melancholy. She missed her first year and how exciting everything had felt. The only weight on her shoulders back then was just the weight of her own expectations. She had been too young to be traumatized by war or true pain. It was a simpler time back then.
She cheered for every student that got sorted and internally prayed they had an easier time at Hogwarts than she did.
Once the sorting was finished, McGonagall rose and spoke a few words. “We have lost many loved ones in the war. May we all think of them and cherish their memories as we move forward. Tonight, we celebrate the reunification of friends and classmate; along with the restoration of Hogwarts. So please, enjoy your feast and remember that my door is always open to students in need.”
Several cheers went through the hall, but there was also a mourning atmosphere that filled the air, especially from the older students.
Hermione started putting food on her plate. She had definitely missed the feasts that Hogwarts always threw. She was so focused on what she was doing that she didn’t notice the eyes of a particularly small first year. It was only when Ginny had nudged her, that she had looked up. Hermione noticed a small boy who had a wide expression of astonishment on his face. When he realized he had been caught, his cheeks turned red and he quickly looked down. Then he looked back up at her, and with a sudden confidence, he stood and walked over to her. “Hi,” his voice was quiet but filled with all sorts of incredulity. “Hello. Congratulations on getting sorted into Gryffindor. We are, the best house after all,” she winked at him, which caused his cheeks to flame up even more.
“I’m Jeremy, but my family calls me Germ.”
Next to her, Ginny snorted while Neville had the decency to hide his laugh with his hands. She, herself, had trouble stopping the laugh that threatened to escape from her. The young boy continued talking. “I didn’t expect you to come back to Hogwarts… you are Hermione Granger! The brain of the golden trio!”
Hermione hated that people always said that. Her best friends were incredibly smart and strategic, and had saved her just as often as she had saved them. “I can assure you that Ron and Harry do have brains as well.” She feels awkward every time people stare at her and gush over her accomplishments. So many other people had contributed just as much as her in the war, she wished the focus could go to them every once in a while.
“I just wanted to thank you for what you did in the war.”
Trying not to sigh, she forced a smile on her face. “Honestly it was no big deal. I played a part, but many others played a bigger role than me. Why don’t you go sit down, the food can’t eat itself you know.” The boy returned to his seat, talking animatedly to his friends. She turned her attention back to the high table, locking her eyes on the dark-haired professor; who was having a conversation with professor Flitwick. As if feeling her stare, the ex-deatheater turned to meet her eyes. For a few moments they held the contact, but then the professor raised an eyebrow before returning to her discussion.
Hermione’s cheeks flushed slightly.
After a delicious feast, Hermione and Ginny chose to retire to her dormitory. Due to the lessened numbers at Hogwarts this year, McGonagall had chose to give the witch her own dormitory. It was simple enough, but did have it’s own private bathroom. Hermione was privately thankful for that.
Ginny sat down on Hermione’s bed, pulling the witch down with her. “So I know that we knew Bellatrix was coming to Hogwarts, but how do you feel now that you’ve seen her?” Ginny sounded hesitant, like she was scared to hear the answer. “Are you… Are you okay?”
“Gin, you know how I feel. She was undercover the whole time, just like Snape had been. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
Ginny seemed nervous. “I know she didn’t actually torture you, but I’m assuming there has to be some sort of psychological effect left on you after all that screaming and crying you did.”
Hermione tilted her head, trying to consider the question fully. Was there any lingering effects from that night? She didn’t believe so. Yes, she has nightmares, but the Manor wasn’t a place that scared her, nor was the ex-Death Eater. “Not really. I suppose sometimes I have dreams about that night, but usually of the others that were there. Bellatrix was a savior to me that night, and my dreams still reflect that.”
“Ron and Harry still have nightmares from listening to you guys. They said it was intense. Are you really sure you are okay?”
“When I have nightmares… she is never the bad guy. She made me feel safe when I was at the manor. So yes, I am positive. If she could make me feel like nothing bad was going to happen to me when I was close to being tortured by Rodolphus, then I have a feeling I will be just fine here at Hogwarts.”
Ginny watched her friend for a moment before she laid down, staring at the ceiling. “I still have nightmares,” she admitted quietly. The brunette nodded her head slowly, “So do I,” she reached her hand over the rest it on top of one of her friends. The two stayed in silence for a while, going back to the war in their minds. Thinking of the losses and the terrifying times.
After the war, Hermione and Ron had tried dating, but it was very obvious that they were not right for each other. The both of them wanted different things. Ron wants a wife who will stay at home with the kids, while Hermione would rather focus on her work and travel around the world before even thinking about the idea of children. And while the two didn’t work out, Harry and Ginny were going on strong, much to the delight of Molly Weasley.
“Stay in here tonight?” Hermione asked, not turning to face her friend. She heard a mumble of agreement as the redhead crawled under the covers.
The two girls walked down the hall, not really saying anything but not needing to anyway. In front of them was Jeremy and a few other first years. “Just watch out for that class, mate. A deatheater runs that class and you’re a muggleborn, so watch out. She might eat you.” The group laughed. “Oh no she won’t, your blood is too muddy for her to eat,” said one of the kids.
Hermione felt a rush of anger as she listened to the ignorant kids. Did they not know how much the woman had sacrificed? “Excuse me?” Her voice rang loudly, stopping the group as they turned around. “Do you understand how much that woman has gone through?” she asked as she stepped closer to them, her eyes glinting angrily. “But she is a deatheater-” one of them began protesting.
“She was a spy for the Order! She risked her life everyday for years and created spells that protected the victims from feeling pain when they were being tortured. That is not the behavior of a deatheater! That is the behavior of one who cares more about the wellbeing of others than the wellbeing of herself. Five points from Gryffindor for your ignorance. I better not catch you talking like that again. Understood?”
The first years nodded their heads quickly and then scurried off. Hermione sighed when she noticed a lot of other students watching her. “Mind your business!” She snapped at them, causing them all to hurry off as well, not wanting to lose house points as well. Ginny snickered, “Maybe professor Black won’t be the scariest thing here after all.”
The sound of footsteps from behind them caused them to freeze. They turned around and came face to face with the professor herself. Hermione studied her for a moment, seeing a curious look swimming around in the depths of those dark eyes. She didn’t say anything, and instead opted to just nod at them before walking off.
Hermione watched her walk away, noticing how she walks with an air of confidence and looks as though nothing could bother her. The confidence was oddly attractive to Hermione, which shocked her immensely. Sure, she knows she is attracted to wizards and witches, but to ones twice her age?
She shook her head, clearing her thoughts a she offered her arm to Ginny. “Well, that was some timing.”
Hermione didn’t bother to answer her friend, her brain suddenly dancing with questions. Is it usual for people to treat the raven-haired witch that horribly, despite her risking her life for everyone? How unfair.
When she finally reached the defense against dark arts classroom, a wave of nerves washed over her as she took her seat, Ginny next to her. Around her, there seemed to be a mixture of emotions radiating around the classroom. Some students wore looks of disgusts, while others looked as though they were awe-struck by the professor.
Professor Black looked unbothered by the expressions of her students and instead stood from her desk, causing the classroom to fade into silence as she walked to the front, only the sounds of her footsteps present. Her dark curls cascaded down her back as she scanned everyone, an unreadable expression on her face. “I’m sure you have all heard of me,” she began. “Whether you have heard good or bad things, well, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you all have an idea of the things I can do.”
She twirled her wand in her hands, a small smirk on her lips. “The things I can teach you all… but we only have so much time, so if any of you wish to pass my class then I would suggest paying close attention to my lessons. I will not help you if you aren’t trying.” The classroom was dead silent, all eyes focused on the very dangerous professor. Her power practically oozes off her.
The professor looked down at the wand in her hands and then threw it up into the air, flicking her hand causing the stick to suddenly disappear. Gasps went around the classroom at the example of wandless magic. “Today, you won’t be needing your wands. In today’s society, we are so dependent on our wands; which, if you ask me, is a damn shame. The wand was a European invention, and at one point, we hadn’t deemed them necessary. At one point, wandless magic was the norm. Are you really a witch or wizard if you can only use magic with a wand?”
Hermione had never seen her classmates pay a professor this much attention before. The other professors would surely be jealous. The lesson proved to be rather interesting. Black was spouting off facts in a way that made everyone want to listen. They yearned to know more. Hermione herself, was actually adept at wandless magic. Not that any of her friends know. But as she matured, her magic seemed to grow much more potent. It needed to be let out more often, it needed a challenge. In the beginning it terrified her and she resisted using it, causing a very devastating aftermath.
Black smirked at her class. “Today may feel a bit humiliating for some of you. We are going back to a good old first year lesson,” she seemingly pulled a feather out of thin air, cackling at everyone's expressions. “You are all acting like muggles at a magic show. It’s just simple charms. Ones that you have all known since your second year.” She redirected the attention onto the feather. “You guys will be doing a simple levitating spell. Lift the feather off your desk.” She waved her hand and a feather appeared in front of each student. “Go on.”
Hermione watched as many of her fellow classmates failed to do the simple spell. Many of them wore looks of frustration. As she looked around, her eyes stopped on grey ones. Draco and her shared an unimpressed look before turning their own attentions back to their feathers. Hermione lifted it with ease, growing bored rather quickly, as Black was too busy looking exasperated as she attempted to help Seamus.
Eventually she opened the textbook, immersing herself into the words as she kept the feather in the air. When she was at a particularly interesting spot in the book, she felt eyes on her. The girl looked up to see dark eyes staring at her. Professor Black quirked an eyebrow as she walked towards her. “Are we boring you Ms. Granger?”
“Not at all, professor,” came her quick answer. “Then shut that book and get up here.”
She gave the book a sad look, but shut the book, quickly memorizing what page she was on first. Then she stood and walked to the front, her cheeks flushing as everyones attention was on her. She was standing across from Black, watching her, curiously waiting for further instructions. “The point of today’s lesson was to prepare you all for the next few weeks. I will be teaching you all basic wandless defenses. You lot are clearly not ready, and won’t be for a while. However, Granger here, seems to be ready. So I want you all to pay close attention, as soon enough, each of you will have to wandlessly defend yourselves against me.”
The professor then turned to Hermione, smirking. “Now I don’t expect you to be very good yet, but try and hold your own against me.”
She felt a wave of determination wash over her. She will not allow herself to be humiliated. Feeling a need to show off, and definitely not just wanting to impress the gorgeous woman, she silently cast a protego spell as Black sent a simple jinx towards her. The slightest widening of eyes was the only sign she got that the professor hadn’t been expecting that.
Black sent another one, this one much stronger than the previous one. Hermione raised her hand and flicked her wrist, deflecting the spell too easily. She then gathered a shielding spell in her hands, allowing it to assemble into a large translucent ball. She heard faint gasps from her peers, but ignored them, focusing on the woman in front of her. She grinned mischievously at her, throwing the ball into the air as it fell back and enveloped her, effectively creating a shield all around her. Black’s spell bounced off it and was sent back at her, forcing the professor to quickly deflect it.
“Seems you know a lot more about wandless magic than you let on, Granger.”
The witch merely shrugged. The one sided duel amped up quickly as Black realized the student was hardly being challenged yet. She cast jinx after jinx, Hermione skillfully defended herself. Though after a few minutes, Hermione realized she would not be able to last like that for long, as exhaustion was quickly coming in. She clearly did not have as much stamina as the other witch. The older witch threw spells in quick succession, not looking even the slightest bit tired. In fact, she looked much more alive as she casted her spells.
Hermione was slowing and her opponent knew it. Black began going even faster, wearing down on the young witch and forcing her backwards. When her back hit the wall, she realized she was done for. The professor summoned a strong jinx and sent it towards her at a terrifying speed. The girl was unable to deflect it quick enough. The spell hit her in the chest, freezing her whole body, forcing her to remain where she was, unable to move at all.
A smirk rested on the professor's face as she held eye contact, a gloating look was in her eyes. “I want you all to write a one foot essay on the history of wandless magic. Class dismissed,” the woman said, not looking away from Hermione. She stalked near her and lightly pressed her wand against the young witch’s throat. “I win,” she whispered before she silently released Hermione.
The young witch was breathing heavily, her mouth slightly open as she watched the other witch in shock. “You are terrifyingly good,” she admitted with a slight laugh. That caused Black to laugh as well as she moved to sit on top of a desk. “I wasn’t Voldemort’s right hand for no reason,” she reminded. “If you had better endurance, you would have lasted far longer. Though I am surprised you lasted as long as you did. Clearly the lessons I have planned will be too easy for you.”
That was definitely a compliment. At least she thinks so. She watched the woman closely, her eyes unintentionally sliding down to the cleavage that was on display. Her cheeks reddened and she quickly looked back up at her face, silently praying the woman hadn’t noticed. The slightest smirk showed that she definitely noticed.
“If you think you can handle it, I would like to give you some extra work. The next few weeks will be rather boring for you.”
“I can handle it.” Maybe she said that a bit too quickly. She chuckled and shook her head. “I need to know what you can do, miss Granger. My class may as well be useless to you until I do know. So, do you have any other surprises that I should know about?”
In hindsight, the girl probably should have told the woman everything, but she didn’t. Instead, she just shook her head. “I don’t think so, professor.”
The woman studied her, looking as though she did not believe her, but she did not push. “Alright then. You can go.” She felt the burning gaze on her back as she left.
Hermione had a free period next, so she made her way down to the lake; she felt a growing need to be by herself, which she had found herself needing more and more often. The lake had always been rather calming for her. She sat with her back against a tree, lightly playing with her magic along her fingers as her mind drifted. Along her abdomen, a long scar ached.
Magic ripped through her body painfully, causing her to cry out as she fell to her knees. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she sobbed, “Please!” she cried out, unable to take the horrendous pain any longer. Her hands grasped at her hair, pulling hard, ripping her own hair from her scalp. She fell forward once again, landing on her stomach as she clenched her fist tightly. Piercing screams escaped from the girl, echoing through the air; but nobody came. Why would they? She was alone with her magic blocking the sounds from escaping anywhere but the room.
There was blood everywhere.
With a horrible shout, she forced herself to roll over. Hermione grunted as she ripped her shirt off her body. A gaping wound across her abdomen was seeping blood. She tried putting pressure on it, but it was too large. Her vision was darkening as she was quickly losing consciousness.
She wasn’t going to survive.
But she did. Somehow she survived and she still has no idea how she did. All she knows is that she woke up somewhere else, her wound was stitched up, and a bottle of water rested near her. Her clothes were soaked in crimson and her wound protested when she moved. But she made it. Hermione was later found by Draco Malfoy, who decided to help her. He took her back to his family’s manor, and he and his mother nursed her back to health. She never did explain what happened, and they never asked.
It was then that she bonded with the two Malfoy’s. She realized they were good people who had been forced down an awful path. Ever since then, the two have shared a close friendship. Not one where they tell each other everything, but one where they just accept each other and don’t ask questions.