The Centaur's Shrine

Chapter 18 - Follow up

Hogwarts,

Harry and Draco had been taken inside the school. Both teams, and most of their friends, including Silena and the Parker twins, had followed them, but everyone had been blocked at the infirmary's door by a determined Madam Pomfrey.

"Stop right there. They'll be all right, unless you lot do your best to keep me from healing them," she said. "Wounded students need calm and rest."

"But can you let us see them when you're done?" asked Ginny, still clothed in her Quidditch uniform. The others, Slytherin and Gryffindors alike, added their voices to hers.

The Healer frowned but relented slightly.

"Maybe, but not before an hour, maybe two," she replied doubtfully. "And if I hear any disturbance during that time, then I'll keep them under lock until tomorrow morning!" With those words, she closed the doors and left the bunch of students waiting outside.

"We might as well get something to eat and come back later," proposed Ron. Hermione, who was still seething, threw him an angry look and went to sit on a bench a few meters away. Ron and most of the others moved toward the Hall. Ginny hesitated and finally decided to sit next to her friend, who ignored her.

"They'll be okay," she said after a moment, in an effort to break the heavy silence. Hermione barely looked at her and didn't answer.

After a long minute of waiting for some kind of response, Ginny finally stood up and walked away. If anybody asked her, she was going to take a shower and come back with something to occupy her. She went up to the girls' dormitory and washed away the grime and sweat of the game. Feeling much better, she took a book she was reading, and after a moment's hesitation, she selected another one. When she came back, Hermione was still sitting silently.

"I brought you this," said the younger girl, placing the second book on the bench between them. Hermione took a look at it, made a face and finally took it.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," replied Ginny, not raising her head from her reading.

Hermione knew that she should make further amends to make up from her bad humor, but she was still angry, including with Ginny for her part in what had happened, or what she imagined of it. She said nothing and the two of them sat there, with the regular turning of pages as the only sound being heard.

After a while, some of the others came back. All of the players had changed clothes as well, and they talked in low excited voices while they waited for the doors to open. Ginny closed her book and joined them. Hermione tried to continue reading, but their talking kept her from concentrating. She finally gave up, closed her arms against her chest, and stared fixedly at the wall in front of her.

The doors suddenly opened to reveal a frowning Madam Pomfrey who looked at them severely.

"Can we go in now?" asked Silena, in her most innocent voice.

"No more that ten minutes and-"

"No noise, and no excitement," interrupted Ginny. "We promise. Thank you very much Madam."

"Ummphh. I suppose it's all right."

The Healer made way for them to enter, all the while scowling at any whom so much as spoke a little too loudly, or bumped into a chair or an empty bed. No one noticed the magpie perched on one of the window sills. If someone had, he or she would have noted that it was a particularly beautiful bird with very piercing dark eyes. It seemed to take one look inside the dormitory, and then fly off to a side perch, close to the window, but not directly visible from the room's occupants.

Draco and Harry were lying in bed, not far from each other. Draco's chest was completely bandaged but he was evidently in very high spirit. Ginny rushed toward him, and he winced as she embraced him eagerly. Harry had his arm in a sling and looked sheepish, but not too depressed. Losing the game was a bit of a let down, but it was balanced by the fact of having rescued Draco. The victorious Seeker was warmly complimented by the Slytherins, and reluctantly so by Ron.

Draco caught Harry's eyes. He had that annoying smirk of his, but it was mixed with some genuine warmth.

"I guess it had to happen one day, hey?"

"Yeah," said Harry reluctantly. "I guess it had."

"You put up one hell of a fight," added Draco.

"Yeah mate, that was some real fancy flying," confirmed Ron. Harry looked at him and them at the rest of the Gryffindor team.

"Not good enough. Sorry about it, guys," he said.

Ron shrugged. They had lost the game, but Sir Comil had come to cheer him up with a nice word about the team's play, and he had confirmed their accord. Ron was now looking at much bigger things than the school Quidditch Cup.

"Not your fault," he replied. "Anyway once you get a broom like Draco's, I know you'll-"

"He'll probably kill himself, or Draco, just like what almost happened today," interrupted Hermione in a biting and furious voice.

"Hey, Mione," started Harry. He stopped when he saw her face. She was really worked up about this. Why can't she just let it go?

"Hermione," said Ginny, trying to be reasonable. "Listen to me-"

"No! You listen! What they did was criminally dangerous. Do you realize that Draco almost," she chocked on the word, "died!" She used her anger to recover. "And it could have been you, Harry!"

"Mione ..."

She knew that she was making a stupid scene, but she couldn't help herself.

"Do you ever care about what others think? Do you care about what I think!" she screamed, completely letting go of her feelings. "What do you think it looked like from the stands?"

They stayed silent and did not look at her directly. They were embarrassed by her outburst, but mainly because she was making such a fool of herself.

"So," said Ginny finally, addressing Draco. "What do you think of your new broom?" He grinned back at her.

"It's bloody fantastic, although it can be a bitch to control sometimes." He looked at Harry and Ron. "I can't wait to see what it will be like when both teams have it."

Hermione's anger returned. They still don't get it. I might just as well have been fiddling for all that I said. It took a tremendous effort, but she kept her tongue.

"Yeah," replied Ron, "And sir Comil told me he was going to propose it as the official Seeker model for all international competition."

"You talked with him?" asked Katie Bell.

"Too right I did," said Ron with an enormous grin on his face. "He offered me partnership in the promotion business, starting next summer when the new Keeper model will officially come out." The other whistled in appreciation. He looked at them with dreamy eyes. "People, I think I've found my calling."

"Professional Quidditch?" said Kirke, envy written on his face. He briefly wondered if he should have fought harder for the post of Captain.

"Yep."

"I though you wanted to be an Auror?" asked Harry, trying hard not to smile too much at his friend. He expected Ron to be embarrassed, but there was no sign of that on his face.

"Not any more. I'm going to take easy on the NEWTs, and just concentrate on what I really will need: practice. I know how I'm going to earn my keep now." He chuckled at his own joke, and several of the others joined in.

"Completely irresponsible as usual," said Hermione.

Ron turned toward her, surprise and hurt on his face.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked in an exasperated voice, annoyed with her for spoiling the moment.

"Just because someone comes and shows you a stack of Galleons and a broom, you're going to sacrifice your education. I call that irresponsible."

"Well I call what you're saying: sticking your nose in my business," he shot back, bristling. "You're way out of line. I think that I've done my bit to save the world, and that I can choose my own way."

Hermione was surprised at his reaction. He was almost as angry as she herself was a few minutes ago.

"I'm only trying to help you," she protested.

"Well I didn't ask you anything, and I don't make remarks on how you should live your life, so please leave mine alone, Miss Know-it-all Granger."

Ron was incensed and the Weasley temper was really flaring. It was as if all the frustrations caused by her critics of the last five years were finally coming out. He felt totally justified in telling her off. Here he was, after finally finding what he was good at, and with a real future in doing it, and she had the gall to tell him off.

"How can you say that!" she gasped.

"Ron, Mione, take it easy both of you," offered Harry.

"I'm not taking it easy," continued Ron, raising his voice. "I've had it up to here with her thinking that only what she likes is important, and always telling the rest of us what we should do." He turned toward her and pointed his index finger right at her chest. "You like advice? Well here's mine. You get a life and find out what the real wizard world is, outside of books that is."

"Ron-" Harry could sense that this was going to get ugly real fast. He wanted to separate them, but he was hampered by the fact that he was still in bed, and that there were too many people around him.

"What do mean about the real wizard world?" retorted Hermione, scandalized and hurt by the sly remark. "Don't you think I know just what it's like?"

"No you don't. You haven't even lived in it. All you know is what Muggles imagine it is, and what you've read."

She blanched and looked as outraged as if he'd just called her a mudblood. Harry groaned, this was going beyond ugly.

"You're just an inconsiderate bastard!" she screamed in fury, "Just like the rest of them. All you think about is-"

"MISS GRANGER, CONTROL YOURSELF!" interrupted the shattering voice of professor McGonagall.

Hermione stopped immediately. In the following seconds, the only sound to be heard was the angry clacking of the Transfiguration teacher's shoes hitting the floor as she traversed to room toward them. Hermione swallowed nervously and turned slowly around.

"That will be twenty points from Gryffindor for your disgraceful behavior in the infirmary," said McGonagall severely. Hermione winced in shame. "And you will follow me to the Headmaster's office right now," she added.

Hermione gasped, and panic showed in her eyes. The rest of them, including Ron, looked just as stunned.

"The- The Headmaster? But ..." Her anger turned to mortification, and she felt every bit the small errant schoolgirl. Being admonished by a teacher in front of everyone was humiliating enough, especially for a prefect, and most especially for her, but the idea of being sent to the Headmaster in addition, well that was just too horrible to contemplate.

Oh my God! He's going to take away my badge. I'll never be Head Girl next year. This can't be happening!

"There is nothing to discuss, Miss Granger. You will please follow me."

With that, the stern teacher turned around and marched firmly out the infirmary. Hermione looked at her with a horrible sinking feeling, but she knew that she had no choice. Head bent, and trembling with shame and shock, she followed her and walked away, oblivious of Harry's look of sympathy. The rest of the students stayed silent and didn't even protest when, a few seconds later, Madam Pomfrey arrived to send them off as well.

After everyone had left, Draco and Harry considered the empty room. Draco breathed a sigh of relief, or of exasperation, while Harry still kept his eyes on the door where he had seen his girlfriend go, as if to her execution. No one saw the magpie fly off.

"Thanks for saving my life," said Draco after a moment. Harry didn't turn his head.

"Nothing for it." An awkward silence followed.

"She'll be okay," said Draco. When Harry didn't reply, he added. "She's not going to get into trouble for blowing her top." The way he said it implied that Hermione would get special treatment. Harry jerked and looked sharply at him.

"I'm worried about her," he said. "She's just not herself lately."

"She doesn't take pressure very well," said Draco, shrugging. He liked the girl, but she really had a real talent for getting on people's nerves. Harry frowned and started to get angry in his turn.

"What do you know of what pressure she's feeling?" he shot back briskly.

"Hey! Don't snap at me. She's my friend too, but honestly. There's nothing serious going on and everybody's treating us like heroes. Why does she get into such fits?"

Harry was really angry now. He was asking himself the same questions actually, but he didn't like the condescending tone of Draco's remarks, and he knew that the others were feeling the same way. Hermione had problems she wasn't talking about, and he remembered well enough what it felt like. Before judging her, he was going to try and talk to her. He got up and started to recover his clothes.

"Where are you going?"

Harry didn't reply, not wanting to get into an argument. He didn't even take the time to dress properly, and just gathered his things and went for the door. Draco looked at him and frowned.

"I don't think Madam Pomfrey will like you leaving like this."

"As if you cared," shot back Harry, slamming the door. Draco was stunned by the sharp rejoinder.

"Hey! That was uncalled for!" he said to an empty room, and then he sighed loudly again.

The way Hermione's acting, she's going to mess up just about everything and everyone.

He laid back gingerly against his pillow, favoring his still tender ribs. The Healer had set and fixed the bones, but it was always some time before it felt really healed. There was no reason for him to leave his comfortable bed and butt into a matter which really didn't concern him.

- - -

Hermione was following McGonagall, her mind whirling with the possible consequences of what she had done. She couldn't believe that she was being sent to the Headmaster because of what had happened in the infirmary. Once she took the time to think about it, it was clear that such a minor infraction didn't deserve that kind of treatment.

Professor Dumbledore must have asked to see me beforehand. That's why McGonagall came to the infirmary. She's just trying to scare me by pretending the two things are linked.

The logical reasoning made her feel better, but there was still the question of why the Headmaster would want to see her. What had she done wrong? She knew that she'd gotten into a number of arguments with her friends lately, but that was just student to student matters. That Ravenclaw brat? Did his parents make an official protest? Even if that was the case, she was well within her rights, and she couldn't believe that professor Dumbledore would chew her out for that. What else then?

The last time we talked was after the Auror Ceremony. He'd told me not to get into an uproar about those pureblood idiots, and I didn't. Well not really.

The only thing she had done, which might not please him, was talking to Amelia Bones about FOM. Why would that be wrong? She didn't know, but she felt a cold knot of unease in her stomach at the thought that she just might have been out of line on that one. She tried to remember what the Headmaster had said to them just before the vacations. Had he specifically forbidden such action?

Whatever he might have implied, this is something right. I can't believe we should just let things go, like Fudge and his stooges are doing.

As she walked silently behind McGonagall, she reviewed her arguments so that she would be ready, if that was the reason she'd been called. It helped her harden her resolve, and when they stopped before the gargoyle statue of the Headmaster's office, her face was set in a determined and unrepentant expression. McGonagall turned toward her with a similarly inflexible attitude, and the two looked at each other without blinking for a second.

"Take care what you say, Miss Granger," said the older woman severely. "This is no time for games, and you find that, like me, the Headmaster has little patience for insubordination."

Hermione said nothing but simply stared back at her. The professor finally jerked her head at the gargoyle and spoke the password.

"Cotton candy!" The statue turned upon itself to reveal the stairs.

What a stupid idea to use such names for passwords. Anybody with half a brain could find it in a few minutes.

She didn't stop to consider the fact that maybe there were other protections for that most holy of places. She nodded curtly at the professor and went up the stair as calmly as she could. McGonagall watched her move away, and when the girl was safely out of sight, a thin smile formed on her lips.

So much for my little ploy. She doesn't scare easily, bless her. I wonder how Albus is going to fare with her. Good luck to him.

Professor Dumbledore was thinking much the same thing, as he cancelled the spell which gave him a full view of what had been happening outside his office. A submissive and contrite student would give him several options to choose from. It would be a much more comfortable situation than having to confront a hard headed suffragette with a sharp brain ready to fight his every argument.

Every strength has its price, and pliant tools do not last long.

"Thank you for coming, Miss Granger," he said formally when she reached his inner sanctum.

"At your service, Headmaster," she replied in the same voice. As if I could have refused the convocation.

He took a parchment from his desk. She noted that there was no chair for her to sit in.

"I asked to see you, because I have received a troubling letter from the Ministry's Head of Law Enforcement." He looked at her with his piercing eyes. "I believe that you talked with Amelia Bones at the Auror Academy?" It was not really a question.

Oh oh. She tried not to look flustered as her worst fear was confirmed.

"Yes, sir."

"Can you tell me what the subject of your conversation with her was?" he continued without breaking eye contact. His voice was noticeably colder than usual. She couldn't sense anything, but she imagined his Legimency powers were poised to detect any lie or deception. She understood that being caught in one would considerably weaken her position, so she could only answer the truth, and she did.

"I presented our association, and Helen Parker's idea of a Muggle parents organization, and I asked her if she was interested in helping us." She wanted to stop there, but Dumbledore's eyes were still looking at her and maybe she was imaging things, but they were becoming ever more piercing and bright. "I- I also added that you were favorable to the idea."

"Did you tell that I was favorable to the Association's goals, or to have her actively participating in it?" he said in a tone now devoid of any warmth.

Hermione winced at his words. Having the Headmaster speak to her like that was almost physically painful. She tried to tell herself that he was trying to manipulate her, but it didn't help a lot.

"I didn't say it exactly," she replied in a low voice. She could felt her eyes water and she bit her lip to try and hold on to her control. "I admit that I wanted her to help and that I played on the ambiguity." Strangely, the confession made her feel better and she wondered if Dumbledore was doing something which would feed on her omissions and evasions. Thinking furiously, she made an effort to recall what she had been taught about Legimency, and how to fight against it.

Maybe I can resist better if I keep to the truth, concentrate on what I believe, and stop pretending I didn't have any special program.

"Professor, I think that something like Fraternity Of Magic is important and in the best interest of every decent wizard, witches and other intelligent beings who interact with them," she said feelingly. The determined words gave her a renewed strength, and she could see the Headmaster sit back in his chair with an unreadable, but much less menacing expression, on his face.

She continued, using the arguments she had prepared for the encounter.

"I fully intent to continue my classes and not sacrifice them for this project, and of course I will assume my prefect duties as well." She knew it was important to affirm her willingness to continue her schooling. She didn't doubt her ability to excel in both endeavors, and saying it aloud effectively reduced the tension she had been feeling.

Merlin's beard!

Dumbledore considered the situation. He had just lost the first round and he knew it.

Let's try a softer approach.

"Please sit down." A comfortable chair materialized for her. She took it with an exhilarating sense of victory. "I trust that Madam Pomfrey has done her usual best for our young friends?"

"Yes. They'll be fine." But it could have been serious.

Dumbledore noted the disapproval in her eyes.

"Do you think that we allow the games to be too dangerous?" he asked.

"I think it should have been stopped when it started to get out of hand." She shrugged. She had already spoken her mind about that, and it was not her responsibility. You didn't ask to see me to talk about that stupid game.

But Dumbledore didn't want to let the matter drop. He felt it might be used to make a point.

"Hermione, do you know why I deliberately allow some students to get into dangerous situations?"

She looked up and her mind raced. She had been relaxing her guard when the battle wasn't over yet. The Headmaster was devious, and he liked to use hidden meanings. Concerning his question, she remembered several such occasions.

"You said that about Harry, last summer. You said it was needed for him to grow strong."

"So I did. Danger is a valuable teaching device, if selected with care." He paused for a second. "You realize that I could have stopped Harry and Draco from colliding."

"But then, they would have tried it again," she replied. Showing him that she could understand such logic, even if she didn't always approve. Actually it gave her an idea.

"Exactly," he said. "Perhaps in a situation where the consequences would have been more serious."

"I suppose that you could also have caught Draco before he hit the ground as well," she added. "But you gave Harry his chance."

He nodded prudently. He feared where this was going.

"Then why don't you give me the same chance in my arena?" she concluded with triumph.

Dumbledore privately conceded the point. At least he could turn this into a draw.

"Do not forget that Wizard politics are more my arena that yours," he said. "Why don't you let me play it my way?"

"Because I have a moral purpose. The one that you gave us, if you remember."

It was heady stuff, talking that way to the Headmaster. She would never have dared to do it, but for the tricks he had played on her at the beginning. And she also felt a kind of missionary zeal pushing her foward.

Once again Dumbledore admitted defeat. The girl had turned his argument around like a judo master. How could he have forgotten how resourceful she was?

She will not give up, but she is intelligent. Maybe I can reason with her.

"Miss Granger, your goals are admirable, but I have to tell you that the situation is more complicated than you think," he began. "Some things must follow their course."

"But sometimes it is necessary to act openly to further the end goal," she replied stubbornly. "I don't see what good it does to let injustice continue."

"The idea is not to redress an injustice, which only you and very few other people recognize," he said patiently. "And that is the crux of the matter. We must convince a majority that there is something wrong with the current situation."

"That can be easily demonstrated," she replied with assurance. He shook his head gently.

"You are not dealing with rational individuals, but with a whole culture. You will never force them to change their minds. They have to be led into understanding."

"That is exactly what FOM aims to do-"

"But it is not what it will do in the hands of Bones," he interrupted. "She will use it to start an argument which will turn into a test of power."

"What do you mean?" Hermione was puzzled.

"The Wizengamot is not a place for debates," he explained. "It is a meeting point where powerful forces measure themselves against each other. What neither you nor Bones realize is that most of these forces will see FOM as a menace. Amelia Bones will enter the fray with a weapon which will turn most allies against her."

Hermione reflected on this. It made sense, but whatever the result, she felt that it could not be worse than the current situation. For a moment, she was ready to admit that it was not her business to argue with the Headmaster about such things. The thought dissolved in her mind, to be replaced but a renewed sense of purpose. She did not even find that strange, and she reasserted her position once more.

"And only if we fight for those principles, will they be respected," she added with determination.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. She had successfully evaded his attempt to unbalance her, and now he found that logic could not convince her. Like McGonagall a minute before, he couldn't help but admire the indomitable spirit of the girl. His very real pride in her success was tempered by the realization that she left him no other options for what must be done. With her present attitude, she was going to provoke a disaster.

I am truly sorry, my dear Hermione. I must do this, even though it will hurt me as much, if not more, that it will you.

"You are right, Miss Granger," he said, standing up.

Her initial relief was quickly dispelled by the changed tone of his voice. It was not at all the gentle and kind voice of the Headmaster that she knew, nor was it the colder and calculating voice he had used on her. What she was now hearing was the domineering voice of an ancient and formidable wizard who was not going to accept any obstruction to his will, and who would use all his power to attain his goal. It shocked her so much, that she didn't even realize that he was not calling her by her first name anymore.

"BUT YOU ARE ALSO WRONG, BECAUSE YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND ANYTHING ABOUT THE CONSEQUENCES OF YOUR ACTIONS!" he said in a thundering voice.

Somewhere, within the depths of the castle, a blinding light radiated from the center of a circle of stones pillars. The same light was now illuminating his body. Hermione was suddenly confronted by the terrifying vision of a creature which was unrecognizable from the old and gentle Headmaster.

Few people had seen Albus Brian Dumbledore like this, and no enemies had ever seen it and lived. Grindelwald had faced it once and died. The Headmaster had not even tried it against Voldemort, because of the Prophecy. If it had not been for that, there was no doubt in his mind of what the outcome would have been. It was pure unadulterated power, but it had one drawback. It would be a terrible mistake to show it to an enemy, and it not being effective. The survivor would have only one goal afterwards, find its weakness and defeat him. Using it toward a friend was even worse. Hermione would never forget, or forgive, what he was doing to her.

She had looked into the eyes of Voldemort. She had felt the terror and the incredible pain of the Dark Lord, but she had not been broken. She had been ready to die, but she would have gone down fighting. Now she faced something which she knew could break her, not through pain or terror, but through raw and massive power. She cringed.

"Sir, please-"

"YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME!"

She could only look at him with panicked eyes, and she abandoned all resistance. She might have fought back to save her life, or Harry's, and maybe not even for that.

"Amelia Bones does not plan to simply help you," he continued. His voice was not as loud as before, but terrible power was barely hidden behind every word. "She has her own agenda, and it is not a trivial one. Many conflicts loom in the Wizengamot, AND YOU KNOW NOTHING OF THESE THINGS!"

She was trembling uncontrollably. It was all she could do just to hold on to his words. Her brain was not really capable of analyzing anything.

"You have showed her a tool which she can use to further her ambitions. Although I would not disapprove of her becoming Minister of Magic, her success must not come at any price, and her failure would be much worse than you can imagine. DO NOT PLAY AT THIS GAME!"

He marked a pause and the energies echoing in the room abated somewhat. Hermione could hear her heart beating loudly in the silence. She didn't dare move her head, but she could some of the pictures of the former Headmasters, and they were as paralyzed as she was. Dumbledore conjured a piece of parchment and a quill, and placed them on his desk, in front of her.

"You will sign this letter to Madam Bones," he ordered, "telling her that you will have no further contact with her, and that your association will remain dormant until you have graduated."

She gasped and threw him a pleading look, but his face was pitiless. She took the quill with a trembling hand and saw that his words were already written on the paper. A small cry escaped her, but her will was broken. She scribbled her name and signed. The letter folded itself with a wave of his wand, and it glided toward Fawkes who plucked it from the air. The Phoenix seemed to throw her an expression of regret, and then it disappeared in a puff of smoke. Hermione couldn't hold back a choking sob, and tears welled up her eyes. She turned toward the Headmaster, but his face was inflexible as he gave more orders.

"From now on, you will have no contact with any other wizard or witch outside of Hogwarts, without my express permission. Your Hogsmeade privileges are suspended. I you disobey me, I will have you expelled."

The terrible words hit her like a blow, and she slumped into her seat. A last vestige of willpower kept her from breaking into sobs. She simply clung to whatever control she could retain, as she just tried to wait out this awful meeting.

"I am quite aware that you are of legal age, and therefore that you could decide to abandon your education, but I warn you that such a decision would be irrevocable," continued the Headmaster.

His eyes bored into hers, and she did her best to look back, barely conscious of what was happening, her vision blurred by tears. Although he showed no sign of it, Dumbledore was in agony over what he was forcing himself to do, and he kept telling himself that it was the only way.

She nodded weakly.

"That is all I have to say, Miss Granger," he finally said. "You are dismissed."

She didn't react immediately and simply sat there, until she finally realized that the terrible session was mercilessly over. Staggering to her feet she turned slowly away, her confused mind desperately trying to recover from the brutal onslaught, her lungs laboring in great gulping breaths. She walked slowly, but before she reached the stairs, she turned back toward him. He was still staring at her, but the distance, and perhaps something fractionally less intimidating in his poise, gave her back a modicum of strength.

"I will obey your wishes, Headmaster," she said in a broken voice. Her lips trembled, and all she really wanted was to run away to cry her heart out for the rest of the night, but she struggled to speak. Not to protest, but at least to make a final plea.

"And perhaps one day you will give me the same chance that you gave Harry."

Dumbledore didn't let anything show, but inside himself, he was as devastated as she was. That she could still say such a thing, after what he had put her through, was simply incredible. He said nothing and made no gesture, because he feared that any such action would display his anguish, and defeat the purpose of the whole, ugly and hated exercise. The two stood immobile and looked at each other for a moment, and then Hermione exited without a further word.

Dumbledore's hand was trembling visibly, as he activated the spell which showed the outside corridor. He saw her stifling sobs while she ran down the stairs. As she was coming out, Severus Snape approached from the main entrance. He had a peaceful and almost content expression on his face, and when he saw her he opened his mouth to address her in what looked like a pleasant and polite way. His attitude changed to concern when he saw her ravaged face. He hesitated, and she spoke first.

"I hope the Cup looks good on your desk, professor," she said with a voice at the limit of spite. "You certainly did everything to deserve it."

He was stunned by the outburst. Before he could answer, she had run off and disappeared behind the first corner. He had such an astonished and surprised expression on his face that Dumbledore couldn't help smiling. The smile turned into a chuckle and then into a wrack of nervous laughter. He stopped it abruptly by banging angrily his fist on his desk, startling the still petrified figures of the former Headmasters in their frames. Nigellus reacted first.

"A more headstrong girl I have never met," he said, shaking his head. His immediate predecessor nodded vigorously.

"Be silent all of you!" snapped Dumbledore.

A shocked stillness filled the room. He tried to calm himself by taking a long deep breath, but it was no good. Never in his life had he been more incensed and disturbed about anything. It shocked him to realize how angry and tired he actually felt. He needed to recover his calm, but he couldn't imagine how to do it. His eyes fell on his desk, and he took in the delicate silver divination device. A burst of blind rage took him. He reached out and then hurled it across the room with all his strength. The object smashed against a wall and disintegrated in flash of magical energy. Thousands of sparkling fragments rebounded across the office. He breathed a deep sigh and dropped in his chair.

Harry had the right idea. It does help a little.

He closed his eyes and thought that what he really needed was a long, calm, vacation a long distance from everything. Somewhere as far away from wizards and witches as possible. The entry chimed sounded, indicating that someone had spoken the password.

Damn!

He cast the surveillance spell and saw who it was. Sighing again, he ordered the passage to open and resigned himself to going back to his role as Headmaster.

Severus came in and took one look at him and at the debris littering the room.

"Are you all right sir?" he asked with concern.

"I am fine," replied the Headmaster, in a tired voice.

Severus considered him carefully. He had a long experience with what such an answer could mean in taxing circumstances. He indicated the broken silver device, and the many fragments on the floor.

"Did Miss Granger?" Dumbledore shook his head.

"No. Not directly at least." Severus raised an inquiring eyebrow, but Dumbledore ignored it. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and opened them. "What did you want to see me about?" he asked, hoping against the odds that it would be something simple.

Severus held out a pink box toward him.

"I was just in Hogsmeade. Honeyduke had some new sweets, from Italy I gather. I thought you might appreciate a sampling."

Dumbledore looked at the box and saw that it was a selection of enchanted animal candies. He opened it and a bright orange butterfly flew out and landed on his finger. It looked to be made of glittering sugary stuff. A smile brightened his face, and he looked up.

"Severus. I think that I could kiss you right now."

He ignored the look of alarm on the potion teacher's face and opened his mouth. The candy butterfly took off and jumped inside where it melted in a burst of honey savors. The Headmaster closed his eyes, in pleasure this time, and laid back in his chair.

Professor Snape was highly confused by all that had happened in the last minutes. He had only planned for a friendly call on the Headmaster. After having escorted Helen back to London, he had felt an unusual desire to talk with someone. Not about anything specific. It was just a basic human need for friendly company, not something he had ever expected to search for, and the Headmaster had seemed to be the obvious choice.

Perhaps, I should have sought out Remus. It would probably have been simpler.

"Sir, I do not quite understand."

Dumbledore looked at him with a sad face.

"And you think I do?" He shook his head in disgust. Severus was now genuinely worried. He had never seen the man so despondent.

"Why should I be expected to be always right?" murmured Dumbledore. His eyes fell on the box of sweets and his hand reached out again. Another candy jumped out, some kind of crawling, spider like insect, which scuttled on the table and onto his hand. This time the taste was licorice.

"Perhaps you can tell me what happened?" asked Severus reasonably. Dumbledore nodded, his mouth still closed to keep in the flavors as long as possible. He resolutely closed the box and sat up in a more dignified manner. Noticing the mess of the broken silver device, he waived his hand negligently.

"Reparo," he murmured. The scattered pieces reassembled quickly and the repaired object jumped back on the desk. Dumbledore looked at it and wondered if still worked as badly as before. Maybe the rough treatment had improved it.

Maybe it needed to feel the brutality of humanity before it could properly predict its future.

Severus considered the wandless magic with interest. It certainly showed style.

"Severus, I feel that I have done badly with our young friends, and I despair of my ability to handle them."

The potion master's worry grew. If even the Headmaster couldn't control them, who or what could?

"Miss Granger?" he asked. Dumbledore nodded and gave him a quick update on the situation with FOM and Amelia Bones.

"I have stopped her from continuing in that, but at a price I never expected to pay." Severus saw the pain in his eyes and wondered what he had done to her. He guessed that it could explain the girl's attitude outside. Dumbledore shook his finger at the other man. "It is trite but true that good intentions have a way to develop into unforeseen and unpleasant consequences. I truly love and care for them, and she truly wishes to do well, but so often these things turn into catastrophes." Severus frowned.

"Are things in London so bad then?" he asked. Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes. Fudge is a fool, but at least he has no power. Bones wants his place, and Miss Granger has given her an ideal tool to run with. The problem is that others are maneuvering as well. They are stronger, and I am very much afraid of their goals if they succeed."

"Why not help Bones directly?"

Dumbledore grimaced and moved uncomfortably in his seat.

"It is not a contest of power, which we could win easily, for a short term, but a fight for the heart and minds. Wizards must be ready to accept a new philosophy. That will take time, and subtlety." He looked Severus straight in the eye. "Young people are always so eager, too eager. They will run toward the flame and get burned. Always remember that my friend." When you are in my place.

Severus tried to decrypt the hidden meaning of the words. He suddenly felt uncomfortable as he remembered his role in pushing Draco to win the match at all cost.

This is the kind of mistake he is warning me against. Are there others?

Eager. The term made him think of Helen, and the joyful anticipation visible in her eyes. Was he playing with fire in that area as well? Slytherin cautiousness seemed wiser than ever.

"Is there anything I can do, sir?"

Dumbledore shook his head and thanked him for the visit and the present. He seemed to have retreated into melancholy. Severus stood up and took his leave.

The Headmaster stayed at his desk, lost in his thoughts. He wondered if he had done the right thing, and a single tear flowed into his beard. After a while Fawkes reappeared. The Phoenix chirped gently and nuzzled against his master's hand. Dumbledore looked into the ruby eyes.

If only tears could heal minds, like yours repair bodies.

- - -

Hermione had run as far away as she could, while still staying into the castle. Hogwarts was a big place, and there were some rarely used galleries and wings, full of empty rooms and long term storage areas. She finally found an isolated spot. It was dark, dusty and cold, but it was a place where she could let out her pain and grief. She dropped against the damp stone wall and broke into great wracking sobs.

Nobody cares! They all hate and despise me! I always try and nobody cares.

She abandoned herself to her grief, pummeling the ground with her fist at first, and then finally hugging herself to find what comfort she could.

It's so unfair!

Time went by, and she did not notice its passing. It was only when a gentle hand touched her shoulder that she emerged from her orgy of self pity.

"Mione."

It was Harry, who had looked for her in vain, until he had finally remembered to get the Marauder's map from his trunk, and to hunt for the spot marked with her name. She turned toward him and came into his arms.

"Mione. What's the matter? What happened?"

She shook her head. She couldn't bring herself to admit the dreadful humiliation that the Headmaster had visited on her. She said nothing, but clinging to him made her feel better. He held her gently and brushed the tear soaked locks of hair from her face. After a while, she calmed down. She had stopped crying, and she was just breathing slowly.

"Come on. Let's get back to the dorm," he said.

"No! ... I don't want to go there. I don't want to ... see the others." She tried to get out of his embrace, but he held on tightly and shooed her.

"All right," he said gently. "All right then, but we can't just stay here all night."

She didn't want that either, but the prospect of facing Ron, Ginny, or anyone else for that matter, was too much for her. Everything just seemed so desperate, and she broke into sobs once again. Harry took out the Marauder's map and checked the second floor.

"Do you want to go to the Bubble? We'll have it to ourselves."

She nodded weakly, and he helped her get up. She didn't even want to look at him directly, stubbornly keeping her head down. Harry wondered exactly what had happened with McGonagall and Dumbledore. It must have been pretty bad for her to react that way. His anger returned in force, and he vowed to find out and confront them about it. No matter how annoying she could be, Hermione didn't deserve any of this.

They walked silently to the secret place where no one could see them. Hermione moved like a robot, or like someone exhausted. They got inside and closed the opening.

"Do you want to eat something?" She shook her head and just went to the bed, pulled a cover and slipped underneath, burying her face into a pillow.

He looked at her helplessly, and then he walked to sit next to her.

"I just want to sleep," she murmured.

He considered the messed up bunch of hair, and the closed fist of her hand against her mouth. She looked so forlorn, and it made him feel completely powerless.

"All right."

He guessed that sleep was the best thing for her right now, so he refrained from touching her, which was what he most wanted to do. He reached under the blankets and removed her shoes, and generally arranged things so that she would be as comfortable as possible. He dimmed the lights and went into the bathroom to undress and wash.

When he came back, she was asleep. Her breathing was regular, and her face almost peaceful. He got into the bed, careful not to jostle her, and then he just waited for sleep to come.

Follow up Ch18 - 15