AN: Still alive!

ooOoo

The flock of owls that flooded the Great Hall during breakfast was an impressive spectacle. At least, it had been the first dozen or so times Hermione saw it. Now that she was well into her third year at Hogwarts, the whirling mass of owls was just part of the background as she picked out a balanced breakfast. Other than a small worry about falling feathers ruining her meal, the owls hardly crossed her mind. They didn't have anything to do with her, after all.

That changed when a small brown owl nicked one of her slices of bacon.

"Hey!"

Hermione was disappointed when the owl failed to wilt under her disapproval. Instead, it held up one of its talons as if to admonish her to wait while it finished off the bacon. She was about to go for her wand and make an example of the little thief when she noticed the envelope attached to its leg. More specifically, she noticed that the envelope was addressed to her.

After detaching the envelope and shooing away the owl-it had the gall to press for another treat, but also the good sense to realize when it had pushed her too far-Hermione was in for another surprise as she saw who the letter was from: her parents. She had helped them set up a subscription to the Daily Prophet, and the stamp and cancelled post mark indicated that their plans to find a mail-to-owl service had been more than idle talk. Part of her was glad that they had made the effort, while another part of her was nervous about what they might have written.

Her sense of foreboding only increased as she read the letter. The one saving grace was that her parents weren't able to put their letters in the form of a Howler. Something of her dismay must have shown on her face, as she soon felt a presence hovering over her shoulder.

"What's this then?" Blaise asked, shamelessly reading the letter as best he could. Hermione sighed and handed it over to him. When he finished skimming its contents, he gave a low whistle. "They're really going spare over Sirius Black."

"Thank you, I had noticed," Hermione said, gamely resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

"Isn't everybody worried about Black?" Daphne asked, craning her neck to try and get a look at the letter.

"Yes," Blaise said, tapping a section of the letter with his hand, "but they're thinking about pulling Hermione from school if he's not caught."

"What?"

With all of her friends looking at her with greater or lesser degrees of incredulity, Hermione felt strangely compelled to stick up for her parents.

"To be fair, most muggle schools would shut down if a murderer was wandering around the grounds."

"That's why the Ministry sent those extra guards," Daphne said.

"I don't think they'd find that much comfort," Hermione replied, "particularly if I explained what dementors are like."

There was a brief pause as they all shuddered, recalling their encounter with the foul creatures.

"Well, if muggles would think things are so bad, how are you so calm about it all?" Daphne asked.

Hermione felt a surge of irritation at the question. Even in her third year at Hogwarts, she was keenly aware of the gulf between her background and her friends'. She might dress like them, use magic like them, even-intermittently, and thanks to great effort on Daphne's part-style her hair like them, but she didn't quite think like them. Still, they were at least polite enough to treat her like she was part of the group most of the time. She knew she was responsible for bringing up the difference between them and so stifled the urge to really snap at Daphne, but she couldn't help the acerbic tone that crept into her voice.

"I'm hardly a muggle, am I?"

Daphne was taken aback for a moment and looked ready to apologize, but Hermione waved her off as she felt the irritation drain away. It was replaced with a feeling of weariness and confusion.

"To be honest, I don't know. If I really think about it, I know that if I were at Malvern and something like this happened, I'd be scrambling to get home," Hermione said. She tapped her temple as she talked, then brought her hand down to hold it over her heart. "But deep down, in here, I just don't feel that worked up. I really don't know why."

"Like you said, you aren't a muggle," Blaise chimed in. "Two and a half years in Hogwarts would change anybody's perspective."

"Too bad I can't enroll my parents."

"As if they'd see anything but ruins. I wonder, though," Blaise said, tapping his chin in thought, "have they been anywhere magical besides visiting our house?"

"They come with me to Diagon Alley to pick up school supplies."

"That's hardly much of an immersion, is it?" Blaise asked, handing the letter back over to her. "I wonder... if you can't just write your parents around to your point of view, maybe they could benefit from their own change in perspective."

Hermione chewed her lip as she thought over Blaise's suggestion. It would take some doing, but the more she considered the notion the more she thought he might be on to something.

ooOoo

The next Occlumency class was an awkward affair. Harry entered the classroom in a peevish mood. Professor Snape in turn was harder on Harry than usual, though Hermione couldn't say whether he was responding directly to Harry's attitude or if Harry's mood was hindering his performance. Harry predictably reacted by sniping right back at the professor and paying less attention to what he was supposed to be doing.

Hermione kept her head down and focused on her own task. Professor Snape had explained to her that there were two key skills involved in the practice of occlumency. The first was the ability to focus entirely on one subject, to the exclusion of all else. The second was to focus on anything but one particular subject. She was making good progress on the first, but the second was proving quite the challenge. Hermione liked to think that she had a quick mind, but she had a feeling that this was something she could only learn through practice. She stuck with it, trying to develop the ability to choose not to think about pink elephants without thinking about pink elephants.

Truth be told, even when she failed she was just happy to have something to focus on other than her classmate. She had been feeling awkward around Harry even before his occlumentic downward spiral. She had come to think of Harry as a friend, or at least a friendly acquaintance, and she felt bad about having fought with him. She still didn't think Ron's request was at all reasonable, but once she had a minute to think things over without having Ron in her face saying anything foolish she could at least see where the Gryffindors were coming from.

She did her best to put her personal issues out of her mind and focus on putting her mental exercise material out of her mind. Once class was over, though, it was Hermione who broke the silence once they had left the potions classroom.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

She fought down a flash of irritation at his tone and soldiered on. "I want Slytherin to win... but you know I don't want you to get hurt, right?"

"Yeah?" Harry said, sounding less snappish and more confused, "I mean, why are you asking?"

"Well, after last week," Hermione said, gesturing vaguely with her hand, "I thought you might be upset."

"It's fine, Hermione."

"Ron seemed like he might hold a grudge."

"Really, it's fine. He had a go at me once we got back to the common room about letting Slytherin win, then the next morning he was completely over it," Harry said, shrugging. "I talked to Fred and George, they said that's how he always is. He's a fan of the Cannons, you know."

"And?"

"If he held a grudge over losing, he'd never do anything else," Harry said. "I guess after every loss he stews on it for a bit, then he blows off some steam, then he lets it go."

"What about you?"

"Me?" Harry asked, flashing her a cocksure grin, "Beating Malfoy has always been my job, not yours. We'll see how he does now that I know what he's going to try."

Harry certainly didn't seem to bear her any ill will. If anything, he looked downright cheerful to be talking about quidditch. On the one hand, it was a relief. On the other hand, she still had the nagging sensation that something wasn't right.

"If it's not the quidditch match, then what is bothering you?"

"Who says anything's bothering me?"

Hermione crossed her arms and gave him an old-fashioned look. "Harry, you know I was in that room with you for the last hour and a half. I was focused on my work, but I'm not deaf."

"What? Snape's a git," Harry said. He was fidgeting a bit, and had started glancing around the corridor instead of meeting her eyes.

"You were wound up before Professor Snape said a word."

"It's none of your business, all right?" Harry snapped, turning away from her. Hermione had the feeling that he was torn between wanting to end the conversation and not wanting to look like he was running away.

She leaned forward, ready to tear into him until he told her what she wanted to know, then paused. She already knew that whatever was going on didn't have anything to do with her. If he didn't want to say anything... he was right, it wasn't any of her business. Hermione deliberately straightened herself up and relaxed her shoulders.

"All right."

"What?"

Hermione had to suppress the urge to snicker at his shocked expression. "You say you aren't mad at me, and I believe you. Whatever else you have going on in your life, well, I'm sure you can handle it."

She reached out to give Harry a friendly pat on the shoulder, then turned and started to walk away. "If you want to talk about it, we can talk. If you don't, that's fine too."

She was a good thirty feet down the hall when she heard pounding footsteps behind her. She turned, surprised at the intense expression on Harry's face. She'd been in Slytherin long enough not to react other than by raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Fine, I," Harry said, then paused to catch his breath, "I do want to talk. Everybody in Gryffindor just keeps pick pick picking at me."

Hermione held her peace, watching silently as Harry started to pace. A part of her really didn't want to get drawn in to this year's edition of the Boy-Who-Lived's problems, but another part of her could see that Harry Potter had something he really needed to get off his chest. It wouldn't hurt her to provide some emotional support.

"It's Sirius Black!" Harry said, not pausing his agitated pacing, "He tried to-he did break in to Gryffindor. He was looking for me. He couldn't have been doing anything else. He's coming after me, and he's the reason there are all these dementors around, and I think maybe I need to track him down."

"You want to capture Sirius Black?"

"Somebody has to. We've got Dementors bloody occupying the castle and he walked right in to our common room!"

"So you think it's a good idea to hunt him yourself?"

"He killed my parents!" Harry turned and slapped both hands against the wall behind him to punctuate the remark, then collapsed back against the wall. All of the energy seemed to drain out of him as he sank back until he was sitting on the rough dungeon floor before heaving a great sigh. "Or got them killed, anyway. How can I just ignore that?"

Hermione crouched down in front of Harry, her school robes rustling as they piled up against the floor. She settled into a squat that was, if not comfortable, at least comfortable enough for her to maintain eye contact with Harry. She took a moment to think. She could offer to work with him on dueling magic. She did need a study partner and Harry would probably appreciate the help. Before she said anything, though, an image flashed through her mind of the sheer force of the spells flashing back and forth between Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick in their demonstration duel. Sirius Black was the Dark Lord's right hand man. Nothing she could teach Harry would hold a candle to what Black could do. No, Harry needed moral support more than he needed a study partner. She nodded decisively as she came to a conclusion.

"You're the Boy-Who-Lived," she said, poking him in the chest with her finger, "since when do you need to go looking for trouble?"

He looked down at her hand, then looked up to meet her eyes before giving her a wry smile and shrugging.

"All you need to do is be prepared for when trouble finds you."

Harry broke into an outright grin at that, as his expression seemed animated by an energy that seemed more purposeful and directed than his earlier nervous fidgeting. He reached out a hand. She took it and stood, helping him back to his feet. It took more effort than she expected, and Hermione found herself looking up to meet his eyes once he was standing. Even if she should know better, it always caught her a little by surprise when she was reminded that Harry wasn't the tiny little first year he had been the first time she saw him.

"You're right."

"Of course I'm right," Hermione said, letting go and taking a step back before tapping her school tie. "I'm one of those cunning Slytherins, you know."

Harry chuckled, and they made their way out of the dungeons in a companionable silence.

ooOoo

Hermione kept plugging away at her lessons over the next few weeks. While she wasn't making any great breakthroughs, she was seeing steady improvement in her occlumency exercises and her spellcasting. She wished she could parcel out some of her work ethic along with her instructions for her muggleborn study group. Justin and Colin had been reasonably diligent at their charms practice, especially when she had been able to turn it into a game. Transfiguration was another story. For students that lacked an innate knack for the subject, the only road to true mastery lay in painstaking practice and attention to detail.

Hermione couldn't suppress a grimace as she watched Justin's sloppy wandwork. When he finished and tapped his teacup, the ensuing transformation was noticeably herky-jerky, and the resulting hamster carried a faint reproduction of the chinaware's decoration in its fur.

"You're still going from the swish into a twirl instead of a twist."

Justin looked a little affronted at the criticism. "It's a hamster, isn't it?"

"Technically, yes."

Justin ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Look, I'd get a passing grade for this, right?"

"Probably, but you won't be able to do the more advanced spells with sloppy wandwork like-"

"Then I'll worry about it when we get to those spells!"

Hermione glared at him, fighting internally not to react any more strongly. She had already been fighting a growing irritation over the last half hour of sub-par work, and being interrupted on top of that was just too much. She was taking the time to help Justin out, the least she expected was for him to put in enough work on his own to show that she wasn't wasting her effort.

She tried to remind herself that she was unusual in her need to excel whenever she was being measured. Other students, as Blaise had so recently reminded her, just wanted to do enough to get by. It wasn't a crazy approach at all. The Hogwarts curriculum had been set up to require gradually increasing levels of mastery over time so that eventually each student had to be quite good even just to get by. That didn't change the fact that Justin was giving her a look of mulish resentment even after all she had done to help him. It also didn't change the fact that she wanted to wipe that look off his face.

"You know what? Fine," Hermione said, drawing her own wand and twirling it idly between her fingers. "This is getting a bit dull anyways, yeah?"

"Yes?" Justin said, obviously uncertain where she was going with her line of questions.

"Let's work on something more exciting. Defense?"

"All right."

Justin seemed surprised and a little wary at Hermione's willingness to abandon a lesson before the spell had been mastered to her satisfaction. Next to him, Colin perked up at the change in subject. Hermione understood that transfiguration wasn't the most interesting topic, but honestly, most things worth learning were difficult. She still couldn't quite grasp why other students had such a hard time with that concept.

"A duel, then?" Justin asked, after Hermione had let the silence stretch on for a while.

She couldn't completely repress a giggle at that suggestion. "Let's start a little simpler. Can you cast a shield?"

Justin shook his head, as she had expected. Hermione stood and walked over to the cleared area at the front of the classroom. She'd have to raise her voice a bit to be heard, but demonstrating combat spells naturally needed a bit of space.

"The incantation is protego and the wand movement is straight up. Some of the books say you should add a quick flick at the end but I've never noticed that it made any difference one way or the other."

Hermione brought her wand in front of her so the boys could see what she was doing. Once she was sure she had their full attention she flipped her wand upward. As the last syllable of the spell left her lips a clear bubble snapped into existence above her head, streaming down around her to form a protective dome in a motion almost too fast for the eye to see. She didn't make any particular effort to shape the spell. She wanted her students to see what the simplest version looked like. Examining it herself, she could see that the whole dome had a reassuringly solid appearance that looked like it would hold up well, particularly against any spells a student her age could bring to bear.

With a quick mental effort Hermione dismissed the shield. She could see that Justin was at least a little impressed, although he quickly smothered any nervousness he was feeling under a blanket of bravado.

"Looks simple enough."

Hermione just quirked an eyebrow and gestured for Justin to try the spell for himself. He stood and walked to the front of the classroom, facing her as if they really were going to have a duel. He brought his wand to a ready position and took a deep breath to steady himself. The performance of the spell that followed was technically quite proficient. A nice, steady wand movement. The correct incantation, timed reasonably well. And yet, the result was a thin, patchy curtain that hardly looked to provide any protection at all. A moment later even that disappeared as Justin brought his wand back to a neutral position.

Hermione frowned. The shield spell required not just correct technical performance but also the right sort of mindset and life experience. When she was a first year student she had had a hard time drawing up the strong need to protect herself that was key to a well-cast shield. She was surprised that a third year boy could be so naive as to face the same problems. Although he might just not be focusing on the right things.

"Have you ever been in a fight?"

Justin shook his head.

"Ever been targeted by a prank?"

Justin shook his head again.

"Ever been the butt of a joke?"

Justin shook his head a third time.

"Really?" Hermione asked, hearing her own incredulity loud and clear in her voice.

"Hufflepuffs stick together," Justin said, shrugging. "It's not worth the trouble for most people to pick on us, and it's not like we'd fight with each other."

Hermione felt a completely irrational flash of irritation at his words. It was hard not to compare their experiences as muggle-born students. While she'd been forced to claw her way into a respected place among her housemates and overcome their sometimes outright prejudiced world views, Justin had been enjoying a nice vacation for the last two and a half years. Admittedly, he'd been petrified for some of that time, but still. It was hard to believe that they'd been attending the same school.

She felt a real stab of fury when she realized how much more reading she would have been able to get done if she weren't being pulled into crises by her housemates and friends all the time. She did her best to force it down, then felt a smile forming on her face as she realized that she had a perfectly defensible excuse to vent that anger.

While she had a smile on her face Justin must have seen something different in her eyes, as he took an instinctive step backwards.

"Looks like we have more remedial work to do than I thought," Hermione said. "Impuls!"

She took a bit out of the spell, but it still sent Justin staggering back when it caught him in the left shoulder. He couldn't completely stifle a groan as his arm spasmed due to the electrical current running through it.

"That hurt!"

"You'd better do something about it, then," Hermione replied, sending a stinging hex that struck home on Justin's upper thigh. He yelped and stumbled backwards, falling to sprawl out on the floor of the classroom.

Hermione took a step forward, then paused. She heard footsteps moving behind her, then Colin started stuttering something out. She brought her wand up, calling a shield into place. As she spun around, she saw Colin's hex strike her shield and ricochet off to the side of the classroom. A moment's focus condensed the shield into a disc over her left arm before she snapped her wand forward.

"Petrificus totalus!"

The body bind struck home, snapping Colin's arms and legs rigidly in place before sending him tumbling on his back. Hermione took a second to make sure he hadn't taken any serious injuries in the fall before turning back to Justin. He was still sprawled out, staring at her in shock and horror. His wand was gripped in his right hand, but he appeared to have forgotten all about it.

Hermione clucked her tongue and took a few steps forward until she reached her fallen opponent. Crouching down, she met Justin's eyes.

"Nobody's going to rescue you. None of your little Hufflepuff friends are even here, and Colin's down for the count," she said. "So what are you going to do?"

Justin lashed out with his left leg by way of answer. Hermione twisted and brought her shield to bear. He struck it cleanly. If she'd been holding a real shield in place with her arm she would have been pushed back but, of course, she wasn't. She was wielding a magical protection that she kept positioned near her arm for the sake of convenience. The shield neutralized the kick like it neutralized every other attack and Justin didn't accomplish anything but to shove himself backwards.

Hermione helped out the process with a banishing charm. Justin went tumbling ass-over-teakettle until he fetched up against the wall of the classroom with a slam. Hermione hid her instinctive wince at the impact behind a sneer.

"Attacking like a muggle?" Hermione asked. "Maybe you should see if you can still get in to Eton."

She punctuated the remark with another stinging hex. By now Justin seemed to have resigned himself to enduring whatever she intended to cast, staring off into the distance and doing his best not to react. Hermione frowned. This wouldn't do at all.

"You've still got your wand, don't you? Do something!"

Justin stared at her for a moment as he processed her words. He brought his wand to bear and visibly thought about casting an offensive spell before casting a glance over at Colin's still form and thinking better of it. Instead he took a breath to center himself and flicked his wand up.

"Protego."

This time the protective bubble sprang up all around him in a continuous translucent shell. Hermione cast another stinging hex and smiled when it deflected off the shield as she had known it would. She lowered her wand.

"I think that's enough defense for today," she said. She started to turn away, then paused when Justin spoke up.

"Hang on, you were all keen to have a go until I could put things on a more even footing, and now you want to stop? You scared or something?"

Hermione giggled, then brought her wand back up. Her stunning spell crashed through Justin's shield and knocked him out cold. His body slammed back into the wall once more before sliding down into a seated position.

That done, Hermione sauntered over to where Colin lay frozen on the ground. She looked down at the younger boy and sighed. For some reason she had expected more out of a Gryffindor. Well, he had shown good fighting spirit, at least. She took a moment to think about the best approach to use to bring him up to scratch before dispelling the body bind.

"What was that spell you used on me?" Hermione asked. "I didn't recognize it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-oh," Colin said, his initial panic subsiding, "a slug-vomiting hex. I learned it from the Weasley twins."

Hermione shook her head and gave him a disappointed look. "You can't be mucking about with prank spells in a duel. Here, the body-bind is easy peasy."

She helped Colin to his feet, then demonstrated the spell for him using an empty chair as a target. Colin followed suit, and his first attempt... well, it didn't blow up in his face, at least. It took another half-hour of coaching before he was able to cast the spell to Hermione's satisfaction.

"Now," she said, once he finally managed a decent body-bind, "you need to practice casting the spell just like that ten or twenty times a night."

"Every night?"

"Of course!" Hermione replied. It was both satisfying and disappointing to see him quail under her glare. "In a duel you need to be able to cast without thinking. Can you imagine what would happen if you started stuttering in a real fight?"

Colin grumbled a bit, but acquiesced. Hermione favored him with a smile before checking the time. It was getting on towards curfew. She walked over to where Justin was propped against the wall and, after a moment's consideration, plucked his wand out of his hand and took a couple of steps back. She cancelled out the stunning spell and waited.

It was a lot like watching somebody wake from a deep sleep. First he groaned a bit, then he brought his hand up to feel his head. A moment later he brought his hand back to feel the wall behind his head. Things sped up after that. Justin's eyes shot open and when he saw her standing over him he tried to scoot backwards only to run into the wall.

"Lesson's over, Justin," Hermione said, keeping her voice level. "Are we all right?"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Hermione saw most of the tension drain out of him.

"We're all right."

"Good."

With that, Hermione leaned over and offered him a hand up. She had to brace herself, as he outweighed her by a fair amount. Once he was on his feet, she handed back his wand and favored him with a smile.

"A lot of students don't really get the hang of the shield charm until their fifth year, you know," she said. "It's even on the OWLs."

Justin grunted in acknowledgment but didn't say anything. He tucked his wand rather firmly in his pocket and marched over to pack up his things. Hermione felt a twinge of irritation at the lack of gratitude.

"You're welcome."

ooOoo

Hermione's boots made a soft skritching noise as she crunched her way through the morning frost on the Hogwarts lawn. Looking back she saw her footprints, together with her friends', sometimes clearly visible and sometimes hidden among the masses of footprints left by the students making their way to the quidditch pitch to enjoy the matchup of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw that marked the last official school activity before Christmas break. Beyond the lawn, the castle itself was half covered with frost in a crazy quilt pattern that made for patches that brilliantly reflected the mid-morning sunshine. By some quirk of fate the top of the astronomy tower had frozen over while the body had remained untouched, creating the illusion of a great torch reaching into the sky.

That torch, just like the sun, was putting out precious little heat. While Hogwarts in winter was home to many beautiful sights, most of them were best enjoyed behind a warming charm and a thick overcoat. Hermione admired the view for only a moment before hurrying to catch up to her friends.

Hermione rather wanted to bring up the subject of dueling practice. She thought that her friends were more likely to agree now that they had had the time to forget her rather frazzled appearance after her own practice session at the hands of Glenys Dibble. She was starting to reach the limits of what she could do practicing by herself. Working with her would help her friends' grades, and she wouldn't have to worry about them doing something foolish like haring off after Sirius Black. Hermione was confident that they would see the light once she had a chance to make her case.

Unfortunately, her friends seemed bound and determined to speak of nothing but Quidditch. Hermione gathered that Hufflepuff was favored to win. Millie and Daphne were quite adamant that Ravenclaw had no chance. While Blaise seemed to disagree, he also seemed to be arguing just for the sake of arguing rather than out of any true conviction.

"Hang on," Hermione broke in, "what's so great about Hufflepuff?"

Hermione had a hard time imagining Hufflepuff being particularly strong in anything. When she thought about it she felt a little guilty about having such a prejudice, but on the other hand she had never really seen a Hufflepuff distinguish himself. What's more, she had picked up the prejudice from her friends in the first place, so it was a little odd to hear them talk as if a Hufflepuff win was a foregone conclusion.

She followed Daphne up the stairway towards their spot in the stands, but it was Blaise who answered, his voice floating up from behind her.

"They've been together for a while and they're a solid group. They don't really have a weak link and, well..."

"They have Cedric," Millie chimed in, a sing-song tone to her voice that Hermione hadn't heard before. It was almost as off-putting as the glint in Daphne's eye as she turned to add her opinion.

"That's right, they have Cedric Diggory."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at her enthusiasm, but held her tongue as they picked their way past a group of seated students. Once they were all settled into their seats, she reopened the conversation.

"So... Cedric?"

Blaise sighed, while both Daphne and Millie lit up. They were each quite free with their praise. Apparently, Cedric had firmly established himself as Hogwarts' finest individual quidditch player, second perhaps to Harry Potter. His efforts had never been enough to win Hufflepuff the cup, but he had nonetheless left an impression that had the castle buzzing over how he would do with a better team behind him. He also cut quite the dashing figure on a broomstick. Daphne claimed that he was a shoo in for head boy once he was old enough, although Hermione would believe that when she saw it. She was also a bit skeptical of Millie's claim that he had once parallel parked the Hogwarts Express, but before she could say anything the two teams came tearing out of their clubhouses.

Most of the flyers seemed competent enough, but one blond-haired boy was clearly a cut above the rest. Hermione had seen Harry peform similar aerobatics, but where Harry seemed to dart from place to place like a hummingbird Cedric instead moved with the sure swiftness of a great bird of prey. Hermione tried to picture Draco trying out his latest tactics against Hufflepuff and winced at the likely outcome. She joined in the polite applause as the players flew by the stands. Cedric drew a roar that was noticeably louder and, Hermione couldn't help but notice, rather feminine in pitch. She shook her head. She had had her fill of putting boys on pedestals after the debacle with Tom and Neville last year.

After the initial circuit of the field the teams lined up ready to start without much of the usual horse play. Hermione couldn't blame them for wanting to get straight down to business. While quidditch robes were heavier than Hogwarts' usual day wear, the players were rather restricted in the charms they were allowed to use on their persons. According to Hogwarts: A History it was actually a Ravenclaw student whose use of the charm used in manufacturing spellotape had prompted that particular ban. Although Hermione doubted most of today's students were aware of that little bit of history, under Madame Hooch's watchful eye they all knew to comply with the rule.

Once play began the game soon fell into the patterns that Hermione's friends had predicted. While Cedric and the Ravenclaw seeker floated above the fray, keeping an eye out for the snitch, the rest of the Hufflepuff squad gradually imposed their will on the game. To Hermione's eye they didn't display the effortless grace and panache of her own Slytherin team, but they maintained a fundamentally sound formation and played with a near-perfect unselfishness. The Ravenclaws couldn't seem to get any purchase on the game, and things stood at 70-20 Hufflepuff before the first serious bit of action from the seekers.

Prompted by the excited shouts in the stands, Hermione followed their pointing to see that Ravenclaw had caught a break. Their seeker had spotted the snitch while she was well away from Diggory. What's more, the snitch was on the other side of her from the Hufflepuff seeker. While there was a fair distance between her and the snitch, Diggory would have to overtake her completely before he could make his own run at it.

The crowd buzzed with anticipation at the possibility of an upset. Slytherin and Gryffindor both stood to gain by seeing a strong rival fall, while Ravenclaw were naturally excited at the prospect of victory. As their seeker closed down the distance to the snitch, the crowd grew more and more excited.

The snitch suddenly switched direction. The seeker adjusted. The snitch snapped back to its original course. The seeker adjusted again. The crowd cheered as she continued to draw closer, but Hermione heard Daphne's voice over the cheers.

"He's gaining!"

Following her friend's eyes, Hermione saw that Cedric Diggory was much closer to the action than she had expected. As she watched the snitch changed course again, prompting adjustments from both seekers. Cedric was... well, it was hard for Hermione to say exactly what he was doing, but he was noticeably closer once they both settled on a new course.

The snitch began to zigzag wildly as if it sensed its impending capture. Soon Daphne's observation was obvious to all, as Cedric drew closer and closer. Finally, as they closed to within several broom lengths of the snitch, Cedric cut inside and wedged out the smaller Ravenclaw seeker, forcing her to settle into a chase position. The crowd roared with approval. Even the students who wanted Hufflepuff to lose could admire a nice bit of flying.

The snitch suddenly spun, catching a stray beam of sunlight. Hermione blinked, dazzled momentarily. When she looked back at the field she could see the seekers flying, but the snitch was nowhere to be seen.

"A snitch slip!" Blaise called out. Looking over and seeing the confusion on Hermione's face, he explained. "Sometimes the snitch will change directions so quickly no broomstick can keep up. It slips right by the seekers and unless you're looking in just the right spot, it's gone."

Hermione felt it was a bit unfair to stretch out the game just when it had been on the verge of being decided by superior skill, but the prospect of watching some more quidditch didn't seem altogether unpleasant. Checking the scoreboard, she saw that the Hufflepuff team had proven more disciplined than the crowd and had put up another twenty points while the seekers were in hot pursuit of the snitch.

The sun went behind a cloud for a moment, and Hermione drew her cloak tighter around herself. The morning that had started out cold now seemed positively arctic. She shivered involuntarily at the chill that seemed to seep into her bones. She was just starting to suspect that something unnatural was occuring when she heard the cry of the crowd and tore her eyes from the pitch.

Off in the distance a dark cloud was approaching. As it grew closer, she could see that it was made up of dozens if not hundreds of dementors, swirling around in a great mass. It was all she could do to clench her teeth to keep them from chattering.

"And things were going so well, too."

Hermione snapped her head down to see Tom Riddle lounging against the backs of the bleachers in front of her, perfectly at ease. He looked just as she had seen him before, looking even more out of place than usual in his Hogwarts robes when everybody else was bundled up in their winter clothing.

"Y-you..."

"Yes, me. I never did much care for quidditch, you know. If they'd thought to add dementors to the fun, I don't think I would have missed a game," Tom said, cocking his head to the side. "Your friends don't seem to be enjoying the show."

He wasn't wrong. Blaise was scrambling backward, trying to press himself into his seat as far as he could. Millie had crossed her arms was huddled into herself, shivering. Daphne was frozen stock still, tears rolling down her face and freezing before they could get halfway down her cheek. Hermione felt a warm rush of protective anger that pushed back the cold.

"Leave them alone!"

"As if it's me they have to be worried about," Tom said, unruffled, "I wonder, Hermione, if you turned down my offer because you didn't want to play at being a hero... or because you wanted the title of Dark Lord all to yourself. Well, Dark Lady, I suppose."

"W-what?" Hermione asked, on the back foot once more.

"Say what you will about me, I didn't start training up my minions until sixth year," Tom said. "You really are a prodigy."

Was he talking about her training plans? Hermione glared at him as she marshaled her thoughts. Pushing her friends to go above and beyond in defense and learn dueling spells well above their year was nothing like training a dark army... was it? Hermione was still formulating an answer when Tom Riddle winked out of existence.

Looking up, Hermione saw a wave of silver pushing the cloud of dementors away. At the head of the pack was a phoenix, its beak open in a silent war cry, and closer examination revealed that the mass of silver was made up of many individual ethereal animals. The dementors were scrambling to get away, practically tumbling all over themselves in their haste to avoid the phantoms. Hermione took a deep breath, feeling the chill that had been constricting her insides start to crack.

"That was horrible..." Millie commented, prompting a round of agreement from those nearby. Nobody seemed particularly inclined to say much else. After a long moment a cup of hot cocoa floated into Hermione's hands, and she sipped at it gratefully. Most of the stadium seemed to have received similar treatment, and the crowd was gradually coming back to life under the restorative influence of the chocolate drink. The players had settled on the field for an official time out and looked to be munching on chocolate bars.

Hermione ignored the rising hubbub of speculation about what had set the dementors off, preferring instead to focus on herself as she finished off her drink. On the one hand, it was legitimately concerning that Tom Riddle-or a reasonable facsimile thereof-kept showing up and praising her actions. On the other hand, she couldn't very well organize her whole life over what might very well be a figment of her imagination or some kind of overactive guilt complex. After all, Tom Riddle had made prefect, and then Head Boy. She'd looked it up.

She was hardly going to avoid academic achievement just because it was also the pathway to dark lord-ship. She would just have to do what she thought was right. And perhaps hold off on training her friends in dueling magic until they asked for it of their own free will.

The game had started up again while Hermione was focused on her introspection, although the crowd remained somewhat subdued. Hufflepuff seemed to have smoothly resumed its relentless march to victory. The same strategic moves were being made, the players were still whipping around the field like mad, but Hermione felt a sort of distance that left her unable to lose herself in the moment and wholeheartedly enjoy the game. From what she could gather of the mood of the crowd, she wasn't alone.

When Cedric Diggory captured the snitch to seal the win it felt more like a relief than a joyous celebration. As Hermione picked her way down out of the stadium, already mentally packing her trunk, she felt for the first time a bit of anticipation at getting away from the castle for a while. She didn't usually look forward to rejoining the muggle world, but then this Christmas didn't look to be particularly muggle at all.

ooOoo

Hermione stepped off the Hogwarts express with a spring in her step and her matchbook-sized school trunk in her pocket. She was still wearing her school robes. They were comfortable enough, and they wouldn't stand out too badly during a quick trip on the tube.

The crowd that had exited the train together gradually fell apart as her classmates split off to reunite with their families. Hermione's own parents made their presence known when her mother swooped in to envelop her in a crushing hug. She enjoyed the long moment of pure familial love until her mother held her out at arm's length and looked her up and down.

"Every time we see you again, you've grown so much."

There was affection in her voice, but also a sort of resigned sadness. Hermione couldn't think of anything to say, so she let the happy smile on her face do the talking for her.

"You know it's not too late for us to do that trip to Madeira," her father said. "I've got a line on a great deal for some last minute plane tickets."

"Dad! I already made arrangements with the Leaky Cauldron and I planned out everything we're going to do and I got advice from everybody and-"

Hermione was cut off when her father pulled her into another hug, holding her briefly before letting her go and ruffling her hair, ignoring her squawk of protest with the ease of long experience.

"I'm teasing, honey," he said, then demonstrated that he at least was still immune to Hermione's best angry glare by flashing a cheerful smile. "Now, come on, if we hurry we ought to be able to make it in time for dinner."

With that the Grangers were off, the elder two pulling their luggage behind them as they all made their way towards the King's Cross underground station. This year's family vacation might not require them to travel quite as much distance as usual, but it certainly promised its fair share of culture shock.

ooOoo

AN: Cedric Diggory doesn't always drink butterbeer, but when he does he prefers Madame Rosmerta's.