Hermione Granger

Truthfully, it was a relief to have a familiar face. As anxious as Hermione’s presence made her feel, there was something about her that left her relieved they sent someone around her age instead of throwing someone old enough to be her parent at her.

“Incredibly,” Lavender murmured. She cast a sideways glance at Hermione and kept her distance, feeling wary and relieved at the idea of being able to get out of holding for a little while. “I don’t think my tea leaves could have predicted this.”

Her expression faltered at specified areas being brought up - not that she had anywhere particular that she wanted to go. She was simply growing bored of being cooped up alone in the holding area. Any longer, and she was certain it would have turned into properly begging the next person that went to check on her to let her venture out.

“Is outside part of it?” She arched an eyebrow. “I know I should be grateful they agreed to let me go anywhere at all but I do need to admit it’s particularly stuffy in here.” Lavender didn’t want to seem overwhelming but there were several questions she wanted answers to. She took a deep breath then glanced back at Hermione, taking a few steps toward her before she spoke again. “More importantly, were they able to get ahold of my mother?”

"Yes, it’s almost like seeing one’s future in the muck at the bottom of a cup is entirely unreliable.” The rejoinder slipped from Hermione before she could stop herself, causing the woman to wince slightly at her own words. Lavender had just been through a traumatic experience, and here Hermione was already poking at what had always been a sore topic between the two of them. Casting an apologetic look at Lavender, Hermione hoped she would let it slide so they could continue on in peace.

“There’s a false courtyard,” Hermione informed her with a purse of her lips. “People tend to take their lunches and breaks there, but it’s been cleared for duration. I’m sorry it isn’t above ground, the aurors wouldn’t agree to a detail to accompany us outside of the Ministry. Too many variables they wouldn’t be able to account for.” Gesturing to a door, Hermione began leading Lavender through the previously approved path for their outing. 

With the memory of his death feeling as strong as it was and several sleepless nights making that point clear, Regulus was left with little to say on the subject. She was right about one thing though - he hadn’t wanted recognition and he hadn’t planned on being around to receive any sort of gratitude for his actions. “This is too weird,” He mumbled and ran his hand through his hair.

Her scowl earned a muffled laugh and a small smiles that he didn’t try to disguise. Having taken a more serious approach to things left the smile feeling rather unfamiliar over his lips. Of course, his brother being brought up was the thing to cause it. “Try growing up with him,” He chuckled. “A lot of being told not to do what my brother did.”

Regulus nodded when Harry was brought up. Having initially planned on putting in a request that she convince Harry to get him a set of robes that properly fit was quickly forgotten, the thought lost to the rather appalled look that graced his features at the thought of Hermione and her friends destroying horcruxes. The one he had sought to destroy destroyed him in the process and it was made clear he hadn’t given the proper orders on getting the one he wanted to damage destroyed.

“I could have sworn I told Kreacher to destroy it,” He grimaced. Not that it was all that important since the locket ultimately did get destroyed, but that still meant having made things a little bit difficult down the road. “The memory is rather fuzzy since it’s fixated on how I passed but I thought I… Hold on,” He wrinkled his nose then gave Hermione a calculated look. “That means he would have had to find the fake one first.”

“Seems like it would have been sound advice, most of the time,” she mused, glad to see that he could find the humor in it. There were of course the obvious choices Sirius made that she approved over the ones Regulus made, but it seemed like it would be in poor taste to point those out when he had come around in the end. 

Hermione allowed Regulus a moment to process thoughts and observations regarding the locket before giving a weary nod. “You did, but it wasn’t quite so simple. He attempted to destroy it, of course, there was a small problem. Horcruxes can only be destroyed if it is a complete destruction, which can only be accomplished by specific means. Basilisk venom, fiendfyre, the sword of Gryffindor.”

She hesitated then, knowing the topic was treading incredibly close to Regulus’s own demise. “As for locating the fake locket... It was Dumbledore that found it, and Dumbledore that drank the potion. Harry was with him, and he was able to get him out, but...” Hermione sighed as she looked across the room at a head of dark greasy hair. 

“Well Dumbledore never had the chance to recover from the potion because he was killed by Professor Snape, under Dumbledore’s own orders. None of us knew this until after Professor Snape himself had died. You will find that in here some will still regard him as a Death Eater, and when you leave some will laude him a hero. I’ve no doubt he would prefer to avoid the attention altogether.”

He recoiled slightly at her judgement. Beat spirits down? That had never been his goal. Admittedly he’d tried to put a pin in Potter’s ego, but everyone else….Wouldn’t they try to do better to avoid the shame and humiliation? He certainly would have done so himself.

“I taught the students what they needed to know, Miss Granger. Kid gloves are not appropriate in a Potions laboratory. And I do not care for your opinions on the matter.”  But for all his pronouncements and pride, his mind was now leafing back through 16 years of teaching, analysing every critique of an essay or stern admonishment.

He understood the necessity, but it wasn’t a comforting thought in the least. His eyes flicked over to where he had last seen Regulus, and he glanced down at his own hand, now healed of course, but the memory of the pain easily fresh enough to recall. Snape had no doubt that the confinement had fanned the flames to reach that breaking point, but he knew himself well enough too that outside the walls here, he might give in to rage too. And outside this prison, there would be no auror to pull him away, and the opponent might have more than fists and a mug.

He folded his thin arms across his chest, pulling his elbows in close, but otherwise trying to maintain his facade of superior, stubborn calm. People out there knew. And that should have been welcome but he’d died in that shack, drowning in his own blood, knowing that he would forever be a villain to rival Judas in the eyes of everyone he’s ever cared about. He’d made peace with that awful truth and now…this? It was dizzying. “They can think what they like.” The pinched look about his eyes and the corners of his mouth returned full force and he took refuge in the safety of indignation, dark eyes boring into hers. “Those memories were private. Potter-”The name still tasted like bile on his tongue, “will return them to me. You may inform him of that.” It helped. To get some control of a deeply uncontrollable situation.

“I can see I shall have to speak to The Boy Who Lived Twice to ensure he does not-” A muscle at the corner of his mouth twitched and his arms tightened across his thin chest. “say anything untoward. I shall ask him myself.” That was a meeting he did not wish to have but who knew what the boy was telling people about him. His eyes focussed over Granger’s shoulder at the sight of Lily’s hair for a moment, and then returned to her face. 

Snape flinched slightly at the Dark Lord’s name, but his shoulders and arms relaxed, unfolding and resting by his sides again as relief flooded through him. A backfired Killing Curse. A magical impossibility that Potter had managed twice. Had managed twice before even reaching his second decade. 

They were all so young, and Snape was hardly an old man himself. Even after however many years it had been, Hermione Granger was barely more than a girl. She should not have had to face what she had. At least his generation had been legally adults during their struggles. “You-” He checked his tone, aware that he had started to speak in his quiet, dangerous teaching voice. When he spoke again, it was more even, an attempt to speak to her not as a student but as an equal. “You should not have had to fight as you did. I hope that you have been able to find some peace in the subsequent years.”

Curly brown hair bounced slightly as Hermione shook her head, but she allowed the matter to drop. As she had said, she wasn’t here to critique the man’s teaching methods, and she doubted that he would give much thought to her words either way. Besides, what was he to do with it now? He was neither able to perform magic, nor allowed to maintain his former job. No doubt there were many students that would be thanking the Ministry if they only knew. It was shame though, the man was incredibly talented, and for him to lose his magic was, in her mind, a terrible waste.

“They will, sure enough. They always do, don’t they?” It was one of the follies of Wix and Muggles alike. It didn’t matter whether or not they had all of the facts, or even tried to obtain then. They would always form their own opinions either way, sometimes even in spite of whatever evidence was placed right before them. 

There was a flicker of amusement in her eyes at his posturing then, and she was struggling to keep the corner of her mouth from curling in response. “In that case, I’ve no doubt you can present your request to him yourself when you do so.” As if they didn’t both know she would be telling Harry all about this very conversation the moment she saw him next.

His next words actually managed to take Hermione entirely by surprise, leaving her mouth slightly parted as she stood there momentarily speechless. Not only his words, but his tone was one that she didn’t think she had ever heard him use with her before and she wasn’t entirely certain what to make of it. She searched his eyes as she stood there, looking for some form of mockery, but only finding sincerity. Swallowing at an uncertain dryness in her throat, Hermione offered the man a hesitant nod. “I appreciate the sentiment.” 

Worse fur wear // Lavender and @goldcngirl 16 August 2002 - Holding, undisclosed location, Ministry of Magic

Being held until the full moon for the sake of making sure no severe damage was done from her unfortunate demise and being brought back. The news wouldn’t have been much of a shock if it weren’t for being aware that there were several factors to her death — some of which didn’t involve a known werewolf attempting to make a meal out of her. Her protests weren’t necessarily ignored but the conversation ended with being told she was stuck in the holding space until after the full moon for the sake of her own safety.

Truthfully, it sounded like a load of bullshit but she didn’t have it in her to argue. She opted to offer a dejected sigh and agreed to follow whatever involved “keeping her best interests” in mind. The two days that came after her arrival were spent sulking and quickly running out of ideas to keep herself entertained since was limited to her thoughts and the occasional appearance from someone checking in to see how she was feeling. Her last bit of human contact had ended with her practically begging to be taken for a walk and being upset at hearing that the idea had to be run by the Minister himself before they could approve of anything drastic.

The sound of heels approaching caused Lavender to shake herself out of her thoughts. A briefly hopeful look was replaced with a particularly wary expression when she recognized the intruder. Hermione Granger of all people. Under ordinary circumstances, she would have gone out of the way to avoid her. The situation at hand, however, was far from ordinary. It left her cautiously eyeing her old housemate and chewing at her lower lip before she found the words she was looking for.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” She gave an exasperated sigh. “But I’m actually relieved to see you. Did they send you to get me out of here?”

Hermione had been hesitant when the request had come in. Everyone that had known them at the time knew that Hermione and Lavender had a complicated relationship. From their rivalry over Ron’s affections to the rather obvious differences in their personalities, being roommates had never been easy going for the pair of them.

That being said, there weren’t many options for who could take on the task, and Hermione knew that if she said no there weren’t many that would be willing to do it. Not given the question of Lavender’s status as a werewolf, or if she even was one. None of them would know until the full moon, and that frightened people. And how could Hermione allow prejudices to keep the girl from losing her mind from isolation? Well, clearly she couldn’t.

So it was with trepidation that she made her way to Holding, doing her best to not reveal her mixed emotions as the other girl came into view. It was more than a little surprise that Hermione received the girl’s blunt greeting, and she couldn’t restrain the huff of a relieved chuckle.

Working alongside Hermione was always a nice change of pace and break from the monotony otherwise known as Unspeakable duties. She was not just a colleague, but a longtime friend too. None of the usual rules and statutes of secrecy applied since she joined the ARC. For the first time, there was someone from Katie’s long line of friends she could actually talk about all the great current events with. There was no need to fret or tip-toe around any forbidden subjects with the omnipresent gag order always looming overhead like a dark cloud. It was a welcomed relief, as was the idea of not having to trek home to her lonely London flat after another long day of work.

Katie hadn’t actually been absorbing any of the new material printed in the umpteen books in front of her for a while now. Though her stomach was muted compared to Hermione’s, she too was feeling the adverse effects of hunger creep upon her like a predator stalks its victim in the night. Her eyes were heavy, weighted not with exhaustion but uncertainty. Hermione had posed many well-thought out theories about the Returned. The only problem was just that; there were so many, and they were all theories. It was difficult to nail down anything concrete. The evidence was lacking. Nearly two months into this whole debacle, and Katie could feel the toll it was having on her. She wondered if Hermione felt it too, assuming half as much. Then Theo must have too, which meant the entire council was potentially teetering uncomfortably between peril and uncertainty. None of them were free from its dark claws, eagerly waiting to strike whoever stumbled first.

“ Thai? ” Katie perked up upon her friend’s suggestion. It was a favorite of hers, which was evident by the grin on her face. “ I’d love some pineapple fried rice, ” she tapped her finger against her chin in heavy contemplation before quickly adding: “ And some spicy shrimp soup sounds nice too. Do you have a menu laying around? I will go halves with you. ” She smiled energetically. Nothing got Katie excited quite like the idea of dinner after a long day with hardly any nourishment. “ And do you know what goes excellent with Thai? ” A dangerous smirk quickly spread from one corner of her lips to the other as an idea entered her head. “ Wine. I have just the bottle for the occasion. ” She announced before rummaging through the black tote bag she discarded against the wall when she first arrived.

Hermione arched her brow at the other woman, but given the bizarre behavior that she was beginning to learn tended to surround Unspeakables in general, she wasn’t even going to ask why Katie just happened to have a bottle of wine already with her. There were questions to have answered, and this one didn’t really seem to matter much in the grand scheme of things. It was a bit too much like looking a gift horse in the mouth.

“Oh no, that’s fine! If you have the wine, then I can get dinner,” Hermione offered as she moved over to her fridge. There was a small magnetic organizer on the side where she filed local takeout menus, and she quickly swiped the Thai menu from its designated alphabetized  spot. Being muggleborn, Hermione found it had been a necessity to make certain their was a telephone in her flat for this very purpose, so she let Katie glance over the menu for anything else she might want to add to her selection before making her way over to the phone and placing her order. “Wine glasses are in that cabinet,” Hermione offered quickly before anyone picked up.

Once everything was taken care of, Hermione flopped back on the couch, where she figured she could settle until their food arrived. “I don’t know how you do it,” Hermione observed aloud, a thought that had been occurring to her from the moment a non-disclosure spell had been placed on her. “Not being able to talk to anyone about all of these things?” She shook her head. 

ron: the one time you did something without our help you ended up staying in the great lake for hours because you thought dumbledore would drown some kids otherwise

hermione: and you only got that far because dobby gave you gillyweed