Against the Tide

By Friday, Hermione was frazzled. Her nerves, once made of steel, were frayed to breaking point, and her temper was beginning to flare up at unexpected moments. It was all Draco's fault, she knew. Who in their right mind would kiss her senseless, while returning from a secret meeting dedicated to overthrowing the government?

Apparently, only a Malfoy had such bad timing. And she had been caught by surprise, which was why she had kissed him back. That was the only explanation she could come up with, at least the only one what also explained why she had not stopped kissing him since. And while she was showing markedly bad taste in kissing the son of the man she'd killed, that wasn't even what was making her grumpy.

The strike was hard work, and Hermione was happy that it would soon be over. In fact, she had stopped caring whether they actually won or not- she just wanted never to teach again. Stupid brats didn't appreciate the effort the older students were making to ensure they didn't fall behind in classes, and most of the older students making the effort had turned out to be useless, further increasing the amount of work Hermione had to do. In addition to Runes, she also taught third-year Transfiguration (the students were too unruly for Ginny, Luna and Parvati to control, so they had called in the enforcer), second-year charms (Anthony Goldstein would certainly go to hell for ducking out of that class) and fourth-year Muggle Studies (which she hadn't even taken, stupid miscreant Smith).

Worse yet, her parents had gotten wind of the strike and had written her a letter, telling her what to do. Again. She missed them terribly, and felt horrible about the way things had gone during the summer, but they had to accept that this was her world, not theirs, and that they had only ever been spectators in it- they had been born Squibs. She was a witch, and had a responsibility to ensure her world was what she wanted it to be. They had the comforting Muggle world, with its simpler problems and more caring society.

She had been very angry when she had written them back, and perhaps she should have waited, she mused. But, they had not written to her since she'd stormed out of the house at the beginning of August, and now, they suddenly become interested? It had been three months since they'd had contact with their daughter, and suddenly they become concerned? She supposed her Uncle Octavius, who had a great deal of power with the system as it was, was probably bending their ear, so she told them exactly what was going on, rather bluntly. They'd never particularly liked protestations, but they did believe in democracy- surely they'd be proud to have raised her?

Well, they would just have to live with it, whate'er their minds; she didn't fancy being their darling any longer.

With the march starting in just thirty minutes, she didn't really have time to think about it, though. And she certainly didn't have time to be snogging Draco in a supply cupboard.

"Gerrouf," she grunted as she pushed him off her, and began to tidy her robes and hair. "We really have to stop this, you know."

"I know," he said, tucking his shirt back into his pants. "We really need a better place."

"Not that, Malfoy. This. Us. It shouldn't be happening," Hermione said, glancing about for her sock and shoe.

"You keep saying that, but you haven't convinced me yet," Draco smiled, pulling her sock from the outside doorknob.

"What was my sock doing out there?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"It was informing people not to disturb us," Draco explained. "Oh, relax, Hermione. What would they do, punish the Head Girl and a prefect for having a snog? It happens all the time, as you know. My god, last year Elisha Mayfeather must have bedded every male prefect, expecting Ernie MacMillan."

"No, she got to him, as well," Hermione said as she pulled on her shoe. "That's not what I'm talking about, though, Draco. I can't do this, really. It makes me feel completely tarty, as if I'm evil reincarnate."

"No, that would have been my father, who you tidily disposed of," Draco deadpanned.

"Draco!" Hermione gasped. Shaking her head, she said, "I still don't understand how you're so calm about all this. I'm beginning to feel a little less guilty, but it'd help if you were outraged, and there was something I could do to make you feel better. But, you refuse to mourn for your father!"

"You could help me out by wearing front-closing bras, but other that that I'm fine!" Draco growled. "Hermione, I haven't mourned for my father because I simply don't care that he's gone. You didn't do anything wrong. And I've told you that before, so you shouldn't be surprised that I don't care. Homeless hags, abused Cruppies, and sick children get no response from me; why would the death of a maniacal Death Eater lower me to tears?"

"Because he was your father. Draco, he's half of what you are, and-" Hermione broke off suddenly as Draco ripped towards her, pushing her into the door.

"No- He's- Not!" Draco bit out. "I'm am not half of him. I'm twice what he was, Hermione. I'm already a better man than he ever was, and I'm only seventeen. I've protected Samantha, I've begun to recoup the family fortune, and I'm trying to make the world safer and better for Sam and my family and friends. And myself," he added as an after thought. He looked down passed her eyes, to her lips, and was about to kiss her again when she squirmed out of his grasp.

"The protest?" she said, opening the door. While she and Draco were coming out of the closet, Charlie was walking by with Professor O'Neill.

"Ah, looka' that, Charlie," O'Neill chuckled. "The children still use yours and Annabelle's closet."

Charlie wasn't as amused, however. "Mr. Malfoy," he said in an outraged voice. "What were you doing in there with Ms. Granger?"
"Charlie, I thought I'd just pointed out what they were doing. You do remember your wild and wanton days as a school prefect, don't you?" O'Neill said with a grin. Draco looked like he'd prefer to be in Voldemort's grasp just then.

"Actually, we were looking to see if there was any more cardboard to be found in the castle," Hermione claimed in as clear a voice as possible. "For the protest."

"For the protest, is it?" Charlie asked doubtfully. He was still glowering down at Draco. "No more of that, you two. No more, right?"

"Right, Charlie," Hermione said, skipping off towards the Entrance Hall. She could hear Draco's footfall a few moments later, as he began to run- whether to reach the Hall faster, or to escape Charlie faster, she wasn't sure.

"Glad I'm not Potter," Draco said with a grin as he continued his jog past her. "That lot'll kill the lad."

Hermione pulled herself into a jog, and by dashing down the stairs two-by two, she managed to nearly keep up with Draco, but was a bit disgusted by how winded she was. Perhaps she could start training again- Ginny and the others would probably join with her.

The Entrance Hall was filled with students milling about. Regan Miller was forming them into squads of a dozen, and detailing them. Placards were raised into the air, and they made a colourful lot, with magically changing signs and suggestions of where Fudge could go. He had made himself terribly unpopular (actually, reviled) by playing into Hermione's hands, and appointing two unelected students to the Board of Governors.

He had appointed Zacarias Smith and Millicent Bulstrode. Millicent had immediately refused, saying, in a paraphrase, that she'd rather rot. Zacarias had taken his time denying the position, which had moved several dozen students into harassing him badly. He'd refused the position from the Hospital Wing, suffering from a well placed Bat-Bogey Hex- Ginny denied any involvement. The Hufflepuff's had walked about quietly for a day or so, a little embarrassed that one of their own would show less loyalty than a Slytherin.

But all the action had pressed the students into a community; no one wanted to be left out, and most actually agreed with and believing in what they were doing. The Muggle world, with a comparatively long history of democracy, had begun to penetrate the Wizarding community, and the students were demanding change. Well, young people were apt to do that, Hermione mused, but it was nice to be a part of something.

The Coalition for Democracy, which she and Draco were members of, was one such avenue for change, but it was draining. Talk of constitutions and enfranchisement and judicial bodies and on and on. Hermione loved the technical side, and she knew it was as necessary as the physical side, but it just wasn't empowering enough. Any day, she'd choose to be Regan Miller- cursing out Parvati and Lavender for rushing towards Susan and Lisa with a bit of gossip- than Miles Smart, who spent his time writing out resolutions for consideration of this steering committee or that.

And thinking of him made her smile, because he was so sweet. Miles was staid, but sweet, in his earnest way of behaving. He'd been so happy to see Hermione at the meeting, he'd actually pushed Draco out of the way, and for a few minutes before the meeting started, they'd spoken in whispers of the Order, of who was alive, and of who was dead. She'd felt horrible for leaving Draco out of the conversation, but he didn't know of the Order, didn't know what they did, or who was in it. Draco had scowled at Miles the entire evening after the meeting began, but really, he didn't want to know what she knew.

Suddenly, she realized Draco had started this whole thing because he was jealous! Draco Malfoy was jealous of Miles Smart, a dull Muggleborn! The irony was perfect, and she was giggling as she made her way to Regan.

"How's she going, Regan?" she asked.

"Fine, fine, if they'd only just shut up! Regan yelled the last bit. "Honestly, this is not how it is in the Muggle world. We've too many beginners- I can't possibly pull this off. This will be a travesty- my name will be laughed at. I'm glad my parents aren't here to see this..."

Hermione left Regan, just as he stopped pouting and began shouting again. Moody Ravenclaws, she thought, as she came to the Gryffindor flights. As usual, they were loud and rambunctious, totally without discipline. Some of the younger students were intermittently quiet, then another student would be pushed into them from the rear and the whole House began shouting and pushing at each other, until it settled down a bit.

Ron and Harry ran up the stairs from the grounds and burst into the castle. They had been sent to watch the Inn where the meeting was to take place, and report when the members of the Board had arrived.

"They're all there, already," Ron said over the din, hardly raising his voice. Immediately, the students quieted, and the two boys ditched their broomsticks for placards. "Let's go, Miller."

And with that, several hundred students began marching out towards Hogsmeade. They didn't begin chanting until they left the school gates and could be heard from the town, and that was the point that the professors joined the group, to provide security. Professor McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley were the only Board members who knew they were coming; the rest would hopefully be surprised. And, of all the luck (really), the Minister was slated to address the members that morning.

The students were amazingly well behaved once they left the school grounds, having been forewarned by the prefects that any bad behaviour would cost their Houses dearly. They chanted along with Miller, who had Charmed his voice like a Quidditch announcer, and walked in as ordered groups as possible. Older, armed students flanked the group, along with the professors, and four students, with Madam Hooch, were above on broomsticks, looking for trouble.

By the time they reached the Bubblehead Inn, the poshest hotel in Hogsmeade, they had attracted a crowd of on-watchers and had picked up several sympathizers. Hermione nearly had a heart attack when she saw the Weasley twins join the march, but they seemed to be armed only with rude placards. Parents and other former Hogwarts graduates joined with them once they reached the meeting.

"How did you know to come?" Hermione asked Fred.

"Mum told us. We spread the word, and then they spread the word."

"Yes, but why are they all here?" Hermione wondered. A few wingbatted loonies she could understand, but there were several dozen adults in the crowd now. She recognized everyone from the Coalition for Democracy, which she had expected; she hadn't expected to see nearly half the Wizengamot or the Order.

Regan was now calling on Ron and her to make their speeches. Hermione felt hers rather long-winded compared to Ron's, "Give us the damned seats already!" but hers made a much better case for their cause. In addition to Colin, who hadn't stopped taking photos when the press was taken away, there was media rushing in from different streets and alleys. Harry, Morag and Draco were giving interviews to anyone they could grab.

Hit Wizards began to show up, Apparating into the crowd, and began to question many of the adults in the crowd.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked one.

"We just want to make sure none of these people are here to harm you," the man replied. "Charlie Weasley turned us on that there were too many people joining the crowd for them to watch everything." With that, the man turned to the next adult and began questioning his reasons for being there; his daughter was a student at the school.

"So you aren't here to keep us from protesting?" Hermione asked.

"Not our job, is it?" the man replied. "Way I see it, we've had so many protests lately, it's time for Fudge to get to work and actually do something." With that, he turned to the next adult.

After a few more minutes of chants, Hermione, Ron, Tobias and Susan entered the Inn and requested an audience with the Board of Governors. As they waited the reply of the Board, who were meeting with Fudge just then, someone outside managed to supercede the Silencing Charm, and the interior was filled with the voices of over a thousand people.

"Whose school? Our school! Give us the damned seats already!" Ron repeated with the crowd. "See, Hermione. Small phrases that are easily repeated, that's the ticket. All that talk about issues and responsibility and term lengths and mandates, whoosh, in one ear, out the other. But something catchy, like "Give us the damned-"

"Shut it, Ron," Hermione snapped. She had worked really hard on that speech.

The hotel clerk returned a moment later and announced that the Board and the Minister would receive them, and they were searched and ushered into the room where the meeting was taking place.

The Board, Hermione was horrified to see, was primarily made up of kind looking witches and wizards, most of them Dumbledore-esque elderly. Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Turpin, Lisa Turpin's mother, were the only middle-aged members, and even Professor McGonagall looked young in comparison. This was the enemy?

Ron, Susan and Tobias seemed as taken aback as she. Ron actually searched into the corners, looking for the snarly, snaggle-toothed hags and warlocks they had expected. They were nowhere to be seen.

"Would you like some drinking chocolate?" one elderly lady asked. She had rosy cheeks and gnarly hands. "Its so cold out there, you must need some warming up."

"Er- sure," Ron said. He stole a glance at his mother, who pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows in silent reprimand. "I mean, yes, thank-you, ma'am."

"I'm Bathilda Bagshott, dear," the woman replied as she magicked four steaming mugs of drinking chocolate. "I'm the chair of the Board."

Hermione took a sip of chocolate. "Mmm," she said, though the chocolate scalded her tongue. "Thank-you."

"You must be Hermione Granger," Bathilda said. "You wanted to present some motions, dear?"

"Yes, thanks," Hermione said, making her way around the table, handing copies of the motions to each adult. Fudge glared at her as he snatched them from her hand.

"This is ridiculous!" he shouted. "I will not be dictated to by children-"

"I believe that is the cause of the rather loud gathering outside, Minister," Bathilda admonished curtly. "But it is this Board's policy to listen to all petitioners, and indeed, we have long since recognized the need for student representatives on this Board."

"Yes," Hermione began, before Fudge could rebut and stall the proceedings. She explained the motion was for the Board's support of student representatives. It was further resolved that the representatives would be elected by the students and appointed without interference, and additionally resolved that those students would serve only one year. She presented the petition they had collected, with every student's signature, and introduced Susan and Tobias to the Board.

Discussion began immediately. Most Board members seemed entirely willing to have the student representatives on the Board, but were concerned with logistics. "It's a quite involved job," Mrs. Turpin said. "It can be very time-consuming."

"Yes, and its not easy, either," a man said. "The motion should be resolved that only seventh-year students should be permitted to run. If they can't handle what we do by then, then Hogwarts isn't such a good school after all." Most members nodded at that.

"Again, this is completely ridiculous!" Fudge exclaimed. "Board appointments are my jurisdiction. I decide who does and does not sit on this Board."

"And what success you've met," another man snorted. "Lucius Malfoy, who threatened to curse our families, two other Death Eaters, as well as your lap dog, Umbridge, and the foul fellow, Higgle. Then you appointed the wrong students, when you could have appointed those two," the man said, gesturing at Susan and Tobias, who had yet to say anything. "Honestly, Fudge, get it together, man. The Hogwarts Board of Governors is not your personal plaything, Cornelius! We have important business to attend to, and your tomfoolery is not helpful."

"Hear, hear!" several members cheered.

"I call the question," Mrs. Weasley said. "I believe we all have our opinion on this matter firmly grounded. Further debate is not necessary."

Hermione couldn't believe it. Weeks of work and suffering, the elections, the turmoil, the loss of the Hornblower, the strike, the march- all to come down to five minutes of discussion!

The motion was accepted, 10-2. The two members who opposed were vehemently opposed, using their time to rail at Hermione and the others. Apparently, she was a traitor, advocating revolution and promoting Lord Voldemort.

In the end, it didn't matter, and Fudge folded his hand, agreeing to their demands. Ten minutes after they had entered the room, they left again, with a parchment stating that Tobias and Susan were Board member's until September 15^th, the following year. They also had a promise that the Hornblower press would be returned by midnight, and that they could print again, as soon as possible. Madam Bagshot had apologized on behalf of the Board for accepting Fudge's demand that they abolish the student newspaper.

When the four students stepped back into the street, they were met with rousing applause. Harry, Ginny, Draco, Regan, and all the others who had worked so hard rushed towards them, impatient to learn what had happened. When Hermione cracked a grin, and Ron threw his hands up, flashing the 'V for Victory' sign, the students went wild.

After that, it was a blur of cheering, giving interviews, ushering the students, all of them deliriously happy, back to the school, hosting a celebration in the Great Hall (which Dumbledore had ordered ahead of time, probably knowing the sentiment of the Board), and finally calming down. The greatest moment came when the Weasley twins arrived at the school, lugging a huge wooden crate with them.

"Your press, Hermione," Fred said. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Thanks," Hermione replied. "Help me take this back to the Press Room?" As they descended the stairs to the dungeons, Fred and George explained that they had arranged for a 'private celebration' at the Hogs Head that evening.

"All you've got to do in stagger people through the Honeyduke's passage," George said. "They'll leave the store unlocked, so you can get in and out of Hogsmeade. The proprietor of the Hogs Head- solid chap, really- knows to let you all celebrate as long as you need. Fred and I will pick up the tab."

"Why?" Hermione asked as they entered the Press Room. How empty it looked! "Not that I don't appreciate it, but why did you go to so much trouble?"

"No trouble," George replied. "Honeyduke owes us a favour, and this is how we choose to collect. After all, our clientele is primarily Hogwarts students. We figure, a bit of quiet advertising would not go amiss."

"Especially so near to Christmas," Hermione finished, amused.

"Can't blame two young lads for trying, can you?"