Exitus Acta Probat

Chapter Six Purple Goo and Bobby Socks

Gryffindor Girls Stairwell

1:02 A.M.

Susan Bones charged up the spiral stone staircase leading to the dormitories in Gryffindor Tower. She was right behind Luna Lovegood, Cho Chang, Morag MacDougal, and Padma Patil. Daphne Greengrass was at her side; Sally-Anne Perks at her heels. Hannah and Megan Jones, her other fellow Hufflepuffs, were busy herding some of the unarmed, younger Gryffindors into the first year's dormitory for safekeeping. A number of other girls in their brigade had stayed behind as well; attempting to put the chaos below back in order. Marietta Edgecombe was leading an effort to help the hurt and hexed young girls.

It was clearly to their disadvantage, fighting in a spiraling staircase. A figure they assumed to be Parvati was well protected, ducking behind a curve in the stone staircase whenever a curse got fired in her direction. All of her adversaries remained in front of her, and were easy targets for her superior spell work. Hence the confusion and disarray from the inexperienced younger Gryffindors. Cho and Morag had managed to stop Padma's reckless pursuit of her twin in order to talk strategy.

"Padma, I understand your anger, but we can't just rush headlong to our deaths," Morag hissed.

"No, I really don't think you do understand how I feel, Morag," Padma spit. "Did you see Lisa kill Su and Mandy? Did you have to fight her off to save your own life?"

"Well, actually-"Morag interjected.

"Shut up," Padma snapped. "Is it your sister killing innocent people MacDougal? Don't presume to know how I feel."

"Exactly, Padma," Cho interrupted, "you're not thinking clearly. Stop and make a plan first, before we run into more disaster."

"Stop and plan?" Daphne exclaimed. "We don't have time for that! Stop and plan while the Gryffindors are being murdered?"

"There's no one behind her," Cho said impatiently, "we've got her cornered."

"You don't know that!" Susan cut in. "Where are all the older Gryffindors? Where's Vicky Frobisher and Katie Bell, where's Lavender Brown and Hermione Granger?"

"If Hermione Granger were here, Parvati would be stopped already," Luna said dreamily. "Harry Potter isn't here either; they must be off somewhere together."

"I knew they were dating!" Daphne exclaimed.

"Why don't they just admit it already? Everyone knows," Cho said exasperatedly.

"Wait a minute, what about Krum?" Sally-Anne said excitedly.

"You twits!" Padma roared. "Focus! This is not the time for gossip!"

Susan restlessly shifted from foot to foot. They were wasting precious time squabbling like a bunch of wet hens.

"Look, we'll have to charge her, that's all," Susan burst out. "We have to assume the worst, that there are people up there that need our help. Let's just-"

A scream from up ahead cut her off. Immediately, the seven girls bounded up the stairs as one, wands at the ready.

Gryffindor Girls Stairwell

1:04 A.M.

Katie gazed into the unyielding hatred in Carina's face, whose wand was pointed straight between her startled hazel eyes. Her brain wouldn't function. Her head was still throbbing from the Cruciatus, her mind trying to process Lynn's sudden death, while the hand of the Grim Reaper pointed in her face. Carina had just murdered all of the seventh year girls besides the two of them. She had both the power and hatred to Avada Kate right there. There was no time to defend herself by her own wand, and she sincerely doubted her currently sluggish reflexes would be able to remove her from harms way. That left one option: stall like hell.

"Why are you doing this Carina?' Katie asked.

Yes, good one, Katie. In the movies, villains always take the time to gloat about their brilliance until the hero saves the day.

"Why?" Carina snarled. "Why? I cannot believe even you... well, I guess you are just a stupid Mudblood. To restore the power of purity in blood and name to wizards worldwide, of course. Everywhere, blood is counting for less and less."

"So?" Katie said in mock boredom.

"So? So?!"

"Yes, so. I fail to see your point."

"You would," Carina sulkily muttered. "We cannot have our ways regulated by our inferiors! Those who have Muggle blood in them cannot be in power."

"But why is having part Muggle blood a bad thing?" Katie asked, partly in desperation, partly out of genuine curiosity.

Carina opened her mouth angrily, then suddenly snapped it shut, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"You're distracting me."

Katie had heard the phrase "her heart dropped" before, but never quite experienced it. Now, she had a shrewd suspicion her heart had first shot to her throat before nose-diving into her feet. In fact, it was possible her heart had left her body entirely.

"I...what? No," was her masterful reply.

"Yes," said Carina. And now, she looked angrier than she had all night. "Yes, you are. You're really pissing me off, Mudblood. I might have to teach you a lesson before I kill you."

"Isn't it kind of pointless to teach me a lesson I'll have learned for two seconds before I'm worm food?' Katie asked desperately.

Carina's faced actually contorted from the volume of her rage. Before Katie had time to utter one last desperate chance at distraction, Carina uttered one terrifying word.

"Crucio."

Gryffindor Girls Stairwell

1:04 A.M.

Morag skidded to a stop to avoid slamming into Padma. Before them was Parvati Patil and a fifth year Gryffindor. The ginger-headed girl was prone on the steps, being tortured by a malevolently grinning Parvati. The screaming was coming from an unknown source further up the stairwell. A purple glowing flask was in Parvati's hand, the liquid inside being forced into the shrieking girl's mouth. Morag was frozen in horror as the girl's skin gradually turned bluer and bluer. Frost began to spring up on her eyebrows and hair, her mouth was turning a horrifying shade of purple.

Padma recovered first, and fired a stunning spell at her twin. Parvati sprang up and ducked the hex, firing off with a jinx of her own. Morag and Padma managed to duck out of the way, but Sally-Anne was hit with the killing curse and tumbled down a few steps. Daphne and Cho screamed simultaneously. Luna fired an "impedimenta" while Morag cast "expelliarmus." Both missed their mark as Parvati ducked around the bend. Susan Bones was holding a whispered plan of action with Padma, Daphne, and Cho while the other girls attempted to stop Parvati with a wide variety of hexes.

"Luna! Morag! On, three, move out of our way!" Padma shouted over the whizzes and bangs of the spells in the confined area.

She ducked and narrowly avoided a stray curse. Luna and Morag readied themselves for flight. Cho and Daphne squatted down and held their hands palms up a foot off of the ground. Morag sent another disarming hex, her heart pounding wildly as Parvati sent deadly curses at the other girls rapidly. Susan stepped with her right foot onto Cho and Daphne's outstretched hands, holding onto their shoulders for balance.

"Ready!" Padma yelled. "One! Two! Three!"

Luna and Morag dropped to the floor of the stairwell on cue. Susan stepped up with both feet into her makeshift ladder, while Cho and Daphne both quickly stood up, lifting their hands in a human catapult. Padma pointed her wand at Susan and shouted the levitating spell.

Morag's jaw dropped as she saw Susan go launching over their heads, straight at Parvati. It was barely a second later that Padma grabbed Luna and ordered her to take Daphne's place by Cho. Daphne went flying after Susan, (who had missed Parvati when she flung herself sideways to escape the incoming Hufflepuff) and was now laying sprawled on the stairs. Susan wasn't moving.

Without any time to recover from Susan's attack, Parvati couldn't escape harm's way and was hit dead on by Daphne. As she fell under Daphne's weight, the other girls took their opportunity to run up to the struggling girls.

Gryffindor Girls Stairwell

1:09 A.M.

Hermione heaved a desperately needed breath of air as she ran up the stairwell she had snuck down less than two hours before. She had already passed a slew of girls contained in the second years' dorm. Hannah Abbott and Marietta Edgecombe, who had put aside the animosity between herself and Hermione, had rapidly filled her in on the situation at hand. Hermione had stopped at every dormitory on her way up to check for anyone in need of help. Horrifying sight after horrifying sight had met her gaze. Parvati had gotten a lot of damage done while she had been off chasing the wrong people with Harry and Zabini. It was easy to blame herself for it all. Yet, there was a tiny, evil voice that whispered her thanks for being out of bed, upon stumbling, wheezing, into her dormitory and glimpsing the fate of her roommates.

Time was of the essence, but Hermione's feet felt like buckets of lead. Random memories flashed rapid-fire through her brain.

Lavender crying over her dead rabbit, Binky. Tracey's affinity for underwear with ducks on them. Dez brushing her dark hair while teasing Hermione about her chronological, color-coded notes. Parvati's love for Trelawney. All of it had added up to nothing. Her roommates had died, needlessly, by the hand of their friend. And Hermione hadn't been here to stop it. She hadn't properly worked out the riddle. If she had...

A sob escaped her throat. She clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle any more that might follow. Now, more than ever, Hermione needed to be strong. She hadn't been able to save Lavender, Dez, and Tracey, but that didn't mean she couldn't save the others. After biting her tongue sharply to bring herself to her senses, Hermione wheeled about and marched back into the stairwell.

She strode over the dead body of Sally-Anne Perks without batting an eyelash. She passed Susan Bones' crumpled form without breaking stride. Ellen Ridgeway was passed over without a single double-take at her frozen corpse.

Hermione's grip on her wand was firm, her hand steady as she held it in front of her. Her mind was saying one thing only: Get Parvati. Stop Parvati. Kill Parvati.

There. Up ahead. Luna, Morag MacDougal, and Padma were battling two shadows on the stairs. Three figures were prone on the ground; Hermione couldn't recognize them in the dark. Her vision focused on Carina Zimmerman. She lifted her chin, narrowed her gaze, and cast a jet of green light at her back.

Gryffindor Girls Stairwell: Outside the Seventh Year Dormitory

1:10 A.M.

Morag clutched the side of her bleeding abdomen as she dueled Parvati Patil alongside Padma. Cho lay dead on the ground two steps below them. Luna and Daphne were dueling with a seventh year who was obviously a Death Eater Lisa Turpin hadn't mentioned. Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain lay either dead or unconscious a few feet away from the battle, her blond hair matted with blood. Parvati deflected Padma's hex effortlessly, while Morag took aim. She had a clear shot, if Padma would just move an inch to her left...

Morag pointed her wand and began to voice an incantation. A shriek from Luna broke her concentration, and she was blasted off of her feet, hitting the wall behind her with a smack. Luna's cry was explained when Morag landed next to Daphne, who was clearly dead. Her eyes were wide open and staring.
Padma was yelling something furiously at Parvati in another language. Luna barely avoided being hexed by leaping sideways. Morag attempted to regain her footing; wobbling unsteadily. Her head was throbbing in agony, as if someone had clamped a vice around her skull and was mercilessly tightening it. She staggered a step forward, attempting to help her fellow Ravenclaws. She didn't have time to shout a warning to Luna when she saw Carina shoot a jet of green light at the fifth year. Morag's mouth formed to an incoming scream, her eyes widening in horror, as their inevitable demise became clear when Padma tripped as well. None of them ever saw it coming.

Especially not Carina, who, without pausing in the slightest, pitched forward onto Luna. Morag lunged to her friend's defense, before she realized Carina was dead. But how...?

Hermione Granger was revealed a few steps below. Her bushy hair seemed to be crackling around her in a halo of energy. Her eyes were dark and predatory. A green glow surrounded her and her upraised wand. All action stopped temporarily in astonishment. Hermione effortlessly disarmed Parvati, while Luna moved out from under Carina. Padma clutched her broken arm to her chest, her other hand gripping her neck.

"Parvati," Granger said icily.

"Mudblood," Parvati sneered in return.

Morag had never been so happy to see anyone in her entire life. If she was gay, she would seriously consider proposing to Hermione right there. As it was, she would currently settle for a resounding kiss of joy. Padma had sunken to the floor, blood seeping through her fingers. Luna checked on the Gryffindor on the floor. Granger laughed mirthlessly.

"Mudblood?" she said mockingly. "Mudblood? That is the best you can do? Like anything you say can bother me. You, my dear pureblood, are less than nothing," Granger spat, while stalking closer. Her eyes looked to be on fire. "I'm going to enjoy killing you."

"Wait," Padma gasped from her prone position on the steps. "Hermione, you can't.... she's my sister."

Granger blinked. The frightening rage which had possessed her seemed to be dwindling.

"Padma, she killed Lavender and Dez and Tracey. She killed Daphne and Sally-Anne and Cho!" Morag yelled.

Before anyone could respond, Parvati took her opportunity while Granger was distracted, and plunged her hand into a pocket of her robe. She disappeared instantly.

The four girls stared in stunned silence. A silence that was only broken a minute later, when Hannah Abbott ran up, followed by Millicent Bulstrode and ten other girls. The Slytherin girls had come too late.

Hogsmeade: Above Weasley's Wizard Wheezes

The scratching noise of a quill hard at work filled the room. Two rolls of already filled parchment, both tied with a yellow ribbon, adorned the large desk. A hunched man, who was feverishly writing a lengthy report, sat behind the desk. His red hair, freckles, and horn-rimmed glasses identified him as one Percy Weasley. Percy had told the sad remains of the Ministry of Magic that he had to remain at Hogwarts this week due to urgent business. This was true. Percy had been working practically nonstop since receiving the owl from Lupin demanding he come up to the castle at once; there was another catastrophe. Percy paused a moment, sat up straight, cracked his back, and reread what he had just written.

***Upon meeting with James Bond and Luke Skywalker, it was confirmed only Eloise Midgen, (current casualties: 25) Malcolm Baddock, (cc: 8) and Parvati Patil (cc: 19) escaped back to Death Eater headquarters. However, James Bond informed us that both Baddock and Patil were locked in the torture dungeons after stating their cases. Midgen was promoted, due to her clean job, large death toll, and information pertaining to the newly developed potions. (Prof. Snape is currently testing all three; as of now, all we know about them is their color and effects.) We also have confirmation that it was Baddock who killed both Van de Housers, and the rest of the third years. Patil, according to Skywalker, was punished due to her failure to kill Hermione Granger. Baddock was punished for leaving Pritchard (cc: 7) behind. The rest of the Hogwart Death Eaters, whose numbers total five, remain at the school. Both Pritchard and Kyle Stebbins (victim to Baddock) remain unconscious in the hospital wing, and are unable to be interrogated for details. Hufflepuffs Susan Bones and Zacharias Smith are in the hospital wing as well; they are expected to make a full recovery. Carina Zimmerman (cc: 5 ) and Derek Rogers (cc: 11) were killed by students of their own houses in self defense, and are obviously unable to reveal any details of their actions. Theodore Nott (casualties: 0) remains in a state of shock, and will not speak even under the influence of veritaserum. According to Slytherin Millicent Bulstrode, Nott gained access to the girl dormitories in the dungeons through unexplained means, and made the mistake of starting his attack in the Seventh year girls' room, where Bulstrode and one Edith Lodgeman were awake and playing a game of Wizard chess. As Nott did not succeed in killing anyone, his punishment remains undecided. We, the Order of the Phoenix, struck gold with the last junior Death Eater, Lisa Turpin (cc: 9). She sang like a canary immediately, without any er... persuasion.***

Percy paused in his perusing with a slight frown. "Sang like a canary?" Why in Merlin's name had he written that? He must be spending too much time around Harry, he decided with a nod. From below a crash echoed and voices drifted through the cracked open door, to Percy's irritation.

"Oy, Lee, catch it!"

"You catch it Fred, you're closer!"

"No I'm not! I'm on the opposite side of the room!"

"Oh, sorry Fred! George, you catch it! You're closer!"

"How long have you known us, and you can't tell us apart?"

"Just shut up and catch it!" shrieked Alicia Spinnet.

Bellowed swears, crashes, and bangs sounded along with the faint tinkle of bells from the front door.

"Fred, to your left! No YOUR left!"

"Get it!"

"I'm trying!"

"Ouch!"

"Are you looking for this?" An amused Scottish accented voice said.

Percy sighed, got up, and closed the cracked door with a snap. It was times like these that made him wonder why he had ever decided to live with the twins in their home situated over Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in Hogsmeade. He sat back down in his chair and picked up his quill.

*** Turpin disclosed that Patil had co-erced a house elf into adding some type of slow acting sleeping draught to the staff's drinks and the patrolling prefects at dinner. Turpin was unable to explain how Patil managed to knock out the ghosts, why Peeves was unaffected, or why Filch and Mrs. Norris awoke hours before anyone else affected. Turpin also revealed that Zimmerman was supposed to attack the Gryffindor boys, leaving the girls to Patil, indicating a blown assignment on Zimmerman's part.***

Percy heaved another long suffering sigh. Pucey and Flint (aka Luke Skywalker and James Bond) had turned up last night with valuable inside information about You-Know-Who. The order had been fully immersed in debating the best plan of attack, when Lupin had spoken up, with an odd look on his face, saying they couldn't act for at least a week. Even though his words had caused an uproar, he had offered no explanation. Percy again shook his tired, muddled head to help clear his thoughts, and then resumed his tedious writing.

Pathway to Hogsmeade

Hermione shook back her mane of bushy hair absently as she walked to Hogsmeade next to Harry. They were walking rather briskly due to the cold air, and because they had work to do. Lupin had given everyone the last few days off to recuperate from the latest disaster to hit Hogwarts, and was determined to lighten everyone's spirits. Viktor was organizing a large sports event, Muggle and wizard sports alike, to distract some of the students, Hagrid was giving students rides on the backs of Hippogriffs, and the House Elves were putting on a production of Macbeth in the Great Hall. Anyone who was not tempted by these entertainments was allowed into Hogsmeade. Hermione snapped out of her daze when she felt Harry steering her, while he babbled guiltily, towards Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"Harry, we don't have time to -"

"We won't stay long, Hermione," Harry wheedled, with such an effective puppy dog face that Hermione laughed and gave in.

Really, it's not like she could blame Harry for wanting to postpone visiting the Dursleys, she thought as they walked though the tinkling door. They were greeted with a highly amusing scene. Fred, Lee, and George were covered in fluorescent purple goo, along with a half dozen customers. Alicia was on the ground, also covered in purple goo, half buried underneath a collapsed shelf and a large display of Skiving Snackboxes. Katie Bell was doubled over with laughter, clutching her stomach and turning red in the face. Oliver Wood was standing in the middle of it all, a bemused smile on his face, holding a ball the exact color and consistency of the goo covering the store and its occupants, aloft in his hand.

"Fabulous Keeper reflexes, Oliver," chirped an ooey gooey Fred.

"Too bad you didn't come in sooner, could've saved us a bit of a mess," grinned a dripping George. Katie regained enough semblance of control to walk over to Alicia and help her up.

"Harry mate!" beamed Lee, who had just spotted them; "and Hermione! Good to see you!"

"Looks like we missed all the fun," Harry chuckled.

"If by 'fun' you mean 'day of the thousand humiliations'" Alicia grumbled. George handed her a towel with a grin.

"I don't know what you're complaining about, Alicia," He chirped, "it's a great color for you. Whereas Fred and I are committing horrible crimes against fashion. It clashes revoltingly with our red hair."

Alicia threw the now slimed towel at his head.

"Will you moronic banshees be quiet for once!" Percy's highly testy voice bellowed from above. Wood responded by throwing the purple goo ball up the stairwell. A loud 'splat' was followed by splutters of indignation and yelled profanities.

"Did he just call me a wanker?" Wood asked, in astonished disbelief.

"I didn't know Percy even knew what a wanker was," said George with awe.

"Yes, but he's returned to form with the nagging," said Fred reminiscently. "Odd, I think I actually missed it."

Complete silence reigned as everyone stared at an oblivious Fred. Hermione broke the atmosphere of horror and shock.

"Harry, we really ought to be going, I promised Fleur I'd be there by eleven." Harry winced.

"Anyone willing to meet the Dursleys?" said Harry in the tone of one going to his execution.

"Already had the pleasure, mate," Fred said cheerily as he straightened the fallen display of Snackboxes.

"I'll have to pass," said Lee apologetically. "I promised Krum I'd emcee the games this afternoon." Harry looked even more despondent, while Hermione checked the time.

"I really have to go, Harry." He nodded gloomily and waved her towards the door. Hermione exited the joke shop with the sound of Harry begging George in her ears. She started briskly in the directions of Fleur's le monde de la mode, Fleur's shop of high end fashions. Crunching footsteps sounded behind her.

"Hermione! Wait up!"

She turned and saw Katie Bell hurrying towards her. Katie gave a wan smile.

"I wanted to tag along, hope you don't mind," she said rather anxiously.

In the few days since the student Death Eater battle, the two former vague acquaintances were rapidly becoming good friends. It was rather an unlikely pair of mates, all the two had in common was Gryffindor, gender, Harry, and a certain obsession with Oliver Wood's dreamy pretty-boy looks. The rest of the Quidditch team had already graduated, and Angelina and Alicia had always been closer to each other than with Katie. All of the rest of the sixth and seventh year Gryffindor girls had been killed (sans Parvati). Neither girl had wanted to stay in a room that was the site of multiple murders, alone. Hermione had been planning on staying in Ron's old bed with Harry and the sixth years, and had invited Katie to share the large four poster bed with her. It was strangely comforting to sleep in Ron's old bed, with Harry five feet away and a formidable witch next to you. Especially when Hermione had nightmares of the horrors she witnessed, which were both gruesome and frequent in their occurrence.

"Of course I don't mind," Hermione said, surprised. "I wanted to talk to you anyway," she said with a significantly smirky look. The girls paused in front of Honeydukes. Katie groaned upon catching Hermione's drift.

"Not this again," she said, exasperated.

"Yes, this again!" said Hermione with a large grin. "So?" she asked eagerly.

"So what?"

"Stop playing dumb! What was that all about back there?"

"It was nothing."

"Liar!"

"You're making something out of nothing."

"So, you call it 'nothing' that you were out with Oliver Wood on his day off, alone and unsupervised?"

"Yes." Katie paused. "This is killing you, isn't it? Not knowing something?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"Arghhh!"

Katie grinned as they resumed walking.

"Alright, alright. I ran into him in the hallway, and he mentioned he was going into Hogsmeade."

"And...?"

"And I said I was too. Then he suggested we visit Fred and George."

"That's it?"

"Unfortunately."

"Why don't you just tell him that you like him?"

"Why don't you?"
"I don't like him, I just appreciate his beauty. Besides, I'm not his type."

"He doesn't have a type."

"Sure he does! Quidditch."

"What the bloody hell? Quidditch isn't a type!"

"I know, but that's the only thing he likes, so a girl who resembles Quidditch the most is his type."

"Well then, you are his type! Remember when you cast that charm on Harry's glasses during that Hufflepuff match? I thought he was going to propose right there! I remember, because of my blinding rage towards you at the time."

The girls laughed together. They stopped outside Fleur's le monde de la mode and entered. The chic store was crowded as usual, and Fleur looked annoyed with the herd of girls around her. Katie turned to Hermione.

"She looks busy," she remarked. "I'm not a gorgeous fashion-plate veela, but I'm willing to lend my expert tomboy advice." Hermione groaned.

"The two of us and fashion is a disaster waiting to happen. Anyway, it's already all picked out; I just have to get it from Fleur."

"Did she make them herself?" Katie asked, impressed.

At Hermione's nod, Katie whistled in appreciation.

"I had no idea you were so rich. But now that I know, I plan on hitting you up for money at every possible opportunity."

Dursley Home

Harry sat slumped and miserable upon the Dursley's brand new sofa in their sparkling clean living room. There was no doubt about it. He was in hell. Harry looked at the cooling cup of tea in his hand. Thank God Wood had come, he thought fervently. Otherwise, he had a feeling he might've hexed Uncle Vernon a good ten times by now. Harry had come to deliver a letter from Lupin to Aunt Petunia, which Moony had insisted be done in person. Personally, Harry thought Lupin had made it up solely to torture him. It lay unopened on the coffee table, as Aunt Petunia became more and more transfixed with Wood. In fact, the Dursleys all seemed to hold high opinions of his former captain, and were currently discussing football. (Dean had taught Oliver, who took to it with predictable zeal.) The Dursleys would apparently gladly trade Harry for Oliver as their nephew. Harry couldn't decide if he was grateful to Wood for placating the Dursleys, or if he was sulkily and bizarrely jealous of the admiration from his relatives towards the ex Keeper. He decided to be disgusted at himself, and sourly took a sip of cold tea.

Path Back From Hogsmeade

Hermione walked briskly past the castle towards Hagrid's hut. It had been hard work, distracting Katie from the contents of her purchases, but Lady Luck was on her side today. Just when she was frantically thinking up a plausible excuse for secrecy, Oliver Wood and Harry had been coming out of the front door of one the newly built houses and onto the street. Hermione had loudly hailed them, and the four of them walked together back towards Hogwarts. Harry had been quiet, with a bizarre look that was a combination between murderous and relieved on his face. Oliver had been animatedly talking to Katie, and however blasé Katie might be, Hermione was further convinced that Oliver was interested in her blond chaser friend. He, however, was remaining infuriatingly unaware of it. Hermione thoughtfully considered giving the teasing towards Katie a rest tonight, only because of the disturbing and ridiculous retaliations the Seventh year had made while waiting for Fleur.

Hermione couldn't fathom where Katie had gotten the preposterous idea that there was something going on between her and Blaise Zabini of all people. That annoying, weird, Slytherin git! Sure, Zabini had been sitting with her and Harry at meals lately, but that was nothing! Katie had been delusional enough to state that she was all for it, and she even said - Hermione was horrified by the mere thought - that they would be a cute couple! Hermione had dryly responded that between her and Zabini, their kids would have brillo heads. Katie had laughed hysterically but had not, Hermione noted, denied it.

Hermione arrived at Hagrid's hut, and knocked three times on the door. Immediately, the door was flung open, and Hermione caught a glimpse of a giant man before being knocked over by a joyful, madly licking Fang.

"Back, back, Fang," Hagrid growled good naturedly. He put forth his huge paw of a hand and set Hermione on her feet effortlessly. "Been lookin' forward ter seein' yeh, Hermione," he said gruffly as he ushered her inside. "How have yeh been doin'?" he asked anxiously while she sat at his enormous wooden table. "And Harry? How is he?"

"We're fine, Hagrid," said Hermione reassuringly. "We've missed you as well, you're always so busy!"

Hagrid sighed heavily. "Well, that can't be helped, Hermione. Lots o' work ter do fer the order, yeh know."

She nodded sympathetically as Hagrid set a huge mug of steaming tea in front of her.

"Well, 'ere it is," Hagrid said while putting a circular stone basin on the table. "Give 'er a good prod with yer wand when yer ready. I'll be right here watchin' yeh."

"Thanks, Hagrid," Hermione smiled while pulling out her wand. "I'm not worried about it."

"I'll be right 'ere," Hagrid repeated nervously as Hermione poked the silvery contents of the pensieve with her wand.

The thick mist swirled quickly, and cleared into a small picture of Hogwart's library. Hermione leaned in closely, and gave a startled squeak when she tilted headfirst unexpectedly into the pensieve. Hermione landed with an "oof" on the floor of the library next to the cluster of tables used for studying. This was clearly Hagrid's memory, apparent from the old-fashioned garb. Presumably Harry's memories would appear last.

Hermione stood up and straightened her robes, looking around for Hagrid. She spotted him almost immediately. He was a huge boy, already taller than everyone else, yet whose face revealed a twelve-year-old boy. Hermione walked closer, fascinated. He was sitting alone at a table, looking fixedly at an opened transfiguration book and some messily scrabbled notes. Hermione was so immersed in staring at this beardless, Gryffindor-robed Hagrid; that she jumped upon hearing a voice behind her.

"Rubeus Hagrid, I presume?" a pleasantly voiced young man inquired.

Both Hagrid and Hermione looked at the speaker. He was a handsome older student, his tie bearing the Slytherin green and silver, and sporting a prefect badge. His black, slightly wavy hair was short and neatly combed, parted on the side of his head. He was around 5'9" or 5'10", and of average build. His entire appearance was well groomed, gleaming, pressed, and orderly. His face was rather chiseled, but not overly so, with semi-prominent cheekbones, jaw line, and a well-proportioned nose. His eyes were of an interesting shade, some light combination of grey and blue and green, surrounded by dark eyebrows and eyelashes. Smiling pleasantly, he revealed a set of even white teeth. In short, he strongly reminded Hermione of a cross between Harry and Cedric Diggory, with Harry's coloring, and Cedric's good, wholesome, looks and air of an upstanding student. Hermione was quite sure the girls of this time were just as giggly and appreciative of this boy's looks as those girls who sighed at the appearance of Cedric. Hermione knew without a doubt who this was.

"Er, yeh, Rubeus, that's me," Hagrid stuttered.

The boy held out a clean, well groomed hand, still smiling.

"Tom Riddle. Pleased to meet your acquaintance," he said sincerely. They shook hands, Riddle's in Hagrid's huge, rough hand. "Headmaster Dippet sent me to tutor you."

"Er, yeh," Hagrid said, with a flush rising on his neck. "Yeh, I do need a bit 'o help."

"In which subject?" Riddle asked, while taking a seat across from Hagrid.

"Er, well, all 'o 'em, ter tell yeh the truth," Hagrid confessed sheepishly. Tom Riddle blinked once, but otherwise looked impressively unfazed.

"Well, let's start at the beginning," he said encouragingly.

Hermione was startled when the background abruptly swirled and changed, into the entrance of the Great Hall. She glanced around before quickly re-spotting Hagrid. He was making his way down the marble staircase by himself, book bag slung over one enormous shoulder. A burst of laughter startled Hermione, coming from a group of boys on her right. There were five of them, right around her age, obviously older than Hagrid. (They were still, of course, considerably smaller than Hagrid.)

Hermione's stomach clenched painfully when she recognized the looks on the faces of the boys. Malfoy had always sported that malicious glimmer in his eye, that alarming smirk on his mouth; in all of her unpleasant encounters with him. It was clear what was about to take place, Hermione thought with a sick sort of fury.

The boys were uncoiling themselves from the wall next to the doors leading to the great hall, eyes locked on their oblivious target, hands stealthily plunging in their robes for their wands. Hermione was forcefully reminded of the differences between the Muggle world and Wizarding culture. No one in a Muggle school would be insane enough, (no matter how many of them there were) to attack someone the size of Hagrid. In a wizarding school however..... It was times like this that Hermione hated magic.

Hagrid obliviously crossed the entryway floor and ambled towards the doors to the Great Hall. The boys surrounded him in a single, fluid motion.

"Evening, Rubeus," the clear leader of the gang drawled.

He had all the characteristics of an inbred pureblood, Hermione thought viciously, all the way down the stunning resemblance to a rodent.

Hagrid smiled lopsidedly, and Hermione found herself on the verge of angry tears. Poor, sweet, lovable Hagrid, who had no idea what was coming.

"Evenin' Logan. How are yeh doin'?"

"Well, I was doing great until I saw your big ugly face. Now I've lost my appetite." The rodent-boy said smoothly.

Hagrid blinked, bewildered, and his smile drooped.

"Er... sorry?"

"He's as stupid as he is ugly, the big freak," smugged a towering brunette boy. The group laughed.

"I don't know," piped up a third boy, "I don't think anyone could possibly be that ugly." The hyenas cackled again, as Hagrid's countenance grew more and more hurt.

Hermione was breathing as if she had run a marathon, her hand gripping her wand so tightly she would find a red welt on her palm later.

"I heard the only reason he hasn't been held back is because Riddle does all of his work for him," sneered Logan.

"You heard wrong," a new voice snapped.

Everyone looked over at the newcomer. There stood Tom Riddle. He was accompanied by a boy that absolutely had to be related to Malfoy somehow. Riddle and the Malfoy look-a-like (though to be fair, this boy was far less ferret-like and runty) wore identical expressions of disgust.

"Rubeus knows far more than you do, Parkinson. Considering all you know how to do is be a cowardly little git," Riddle's companion said bitingly.

To say Hermione was floored was like saying Dudley Dursley was pleasantly plump. Here was Tom Riddle, future Dark Lord, scourge of the wizarding world, defending a half-blood like Hagrid? And as if that wasn't shocking enough, a Malfoy standing up for Hagrid?

"That's enough," Riddle declared with finality. "I suggest you boys get to dinner before I am forced to dock points."

The group of bullies, who had all looked surprised and a little afraid of the interrupters, silently turned and walked towards the Great Hall, shooting malevolent looks back over their shoulders. While they passed her, Hermione received yet another jolt upon spotting three of the boys wearing the red and gold ties of Gryffindor.

The Malfoy-clone turned to a clearly hurt Hagrid, whose eyes were welling with tears.

"Yeh shouldn't've done that, Igneus, Tom," Hagrid said quaveringly. "They'll be after yeh next."

"Don't be ridiculous, Rubeus," said Igneus cheerily, "like we're scared of them."

Riddle, who had been frowning after the retreating bullies, turned to the others.

"I hope you didn't listen to them, Rubeus," he said seriously, "they're foul excuses for wizards."

Igneus nodded his agreement while Hagrid wiped his eyes. "Absolutely right, Tom," he said, clapping Hagrid on his enormous back. "Now, what d'you say to eating with us tonight, Rubeus?

The three boys of the past strode into the Great Hall with an invisible spectator trailing behind them.

Dark Lord's Hideout

Rodolphus Lestrange was under no illusions in regards to his marriage. He was quite aware of the fact that his wife was currently boning the same man she had been cheating on him with since before they were married. He knew this was what his wife was doing, because he had been stuck with the unenviable task of distracting the Dark Lord's wife from noticing their absence. Yes, Rodolphus had always known Bellatrix was unfaithful, but what could you do when your wife was screwing a man who could blow you apart with a wave of his pinky? Not to mention whom you had sworn eternal loyalty towards.

Rodolphus had to comfort himself with the fact that at least his wife was the Dark Lord's favorite, both between the sheets and in battle. He also was aware that besides their master's and hers transgressions, Bellatrix had otherwise remained faithful to him, in spite of all her enamored pursuers. Oh, how glad he had been when the Weasley boy killed that repugnant Malfoy man! Before Azkaban, Lucius had been no threat to him.

Despite what was commonly regarded as fact, Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange had not had an arranged marriage. Sure, the choices in the pure-blood society were lesser, but either of them could've had anyone they wanted. Bellatrix was stunningly beautiful; from an old, powerful name, wealthy, and so hypnotizing she captivated men with a mere glance. Rodolphus was darkly handsome; with his tanned skin, strong jaw, and dark hair. He was fabulously wealthy, and his name was ancient. Either of them could've had their pick of anyone, but they had wanted each other.

Bella wasn't like most pureblood wives; docile sheep who were as phony as a tin-plated galleon. Not content to stay at home and be subservient, Bella was powerful, intelligent, ruthless, and commanding. Rodolphus couldn't have been prouder.

After Azkaban, however, he had been wasted away to a pathetic, skeletal shell of his former self. And that odious Malfoy, at whom he and Bella had laughed at behind his back, to whom Bella had snidely commented that she would never accept the proposal of a man who spent longer on his hair than she did, had seemed to have not aged a day. And he had continued his pursuit of her. Oh, how he had pursued her, even though she was his wife's younger sister, and even looking the way she now did. But his darling had remained true to him, and they had privately snickered over the fact that a Weasley had been the one to take him down, for Merlin's sake.

Besides, his death, along with Wormtail's, usurped Lucius as the Dark Lord's second in command. Now there was no one who could clearly challenge Bella and himself as their Lord's most powerful followers. Their fellow Azkaban inmates were the only ones who could claim their levels of devotion, and they were even more insane than the Lestranges were. Rodolphus's musings were interrupted by a grating voice.

"What is taking my darling muffin so long?" the girl whined to him.

Rodolphus barely stifled a grimace. The Dark Lord's wife. The bane of his and Bella's existence. That little pouting tart, who was young enough to be her husband's grand-daughter. Rodolphus smiled as blankly as he could, while repressing his homicidal urges.

"Our Lord has many tasks which require his attention, Lady Ginevra. He will return as soon as he can."

Yes, just as soon as he's stopped having sex with my wife, Rodolphus continued internally.

"But I want to see him nowwww" the irritating brat whined in an insufferable tone.

Rodolphus was physically restraining himself at this point. Sweet Merlin, what did his master see in such a horrid creature?

"I'm bored, and I want to play, and I want to play now," the banshee from hell moaned.

He was now drawing blood from where he was biting his tongue.

"We could play," he managed to grit out in a neutral tone. "Wizarding Chess or Exploding Snap?"

The girl gave him an appraising look.

"Yes... yes, we could play. Unfortunately, you repulse me. Clearly, you were once attractive, but now..." she made a heaving noise.

Rodolphus's eye was twitching uncontrollably. He didn't know how much longer he could restrain himself from telling this impudent wench exactly what, or more accurately, who her beloved "Tommy" was doing.

The door to his room opened, and in walked a young Death Eater he vaguely recognized. He was tall and lean and dark blonde, and most likely barely out of Hogwarts.

"Mr. Lestrange," he said formally, with a courteous bow. "So sorry to interrupt you, sir, but-"he stopped upon catching sight of the girl. His eyes widened comically, his mouth a gaping "O" of surprise. The girl smirked.

"Having problems, Pucey?" she smugged.

Pucey. That was his name. Walden and McNair had been saying good things about this one.

"Aren't - aren't you th- the Weasley girl?" the boy stuttered. The girl's face contorted.

"Do not say that name!" she shrieked, in a credible imitation of Bellatrix. "Those blood traitors are no family of mine!" her face was blotching rapidly. "I am your Master's wife, Lady Ginevra, and you will obey me, you cretin!"

Pucey stared, astonished, then turned to Rodolphus for help. He rolled his eyes in a commiserating gesture.

"Yes, yes, my lady, there's no need to get upset" he said in a monotone. "Young Pucey was unaware, like so many others are."

"I don't see why," she grumbled. "Why doesn't my Tommykins tell everyone of our joy? Of my power?"

"My lady," Rodolphus barely managed to grit out, "you know the Master has his reasons for keeping you hidden. It will be a great blow to those Phoenix fools to see you as one of us."

She pouted, but kept silent. Pucey remained silent as well.

Sixth Year Gryffindor Boys Room

Hermione sighed as she sunk onto Harry's bed in a state of exhaustion. Harry took a quick glance around their room to make sure Katie, Neville, Dean, and Seamus were asleep before hopping in next to her. He yanked the curtains shut and muttered a silencing charm. Hermione watched in amusement as Harry pulled out the girliest looking diary she had ever seen out from under his pillow. It was a noxious shade of fuchsia, and covered in glittery stickers depicting frolicking unicorns. Harry flipped it open, thumbing through the pages.

"Here," he said grimly, holding out the opened book, "read this," he pointed to a passage.

***Six days ago, at the Department of Mysteries, I was hit with a curse. I didn't know what it was at the time, but I snuck in to the library's restricted section during the feast to do some research. It's either (the Nightmare Curse) or (the Future Curse) either way, it seems to be brainwashing me. All I can think about is Tom. I don't know what's going on, I only see him as Voldemort! Mum keeps bugging me as well. Ginny, you look pale, oh Ginny, have you been sleeping? Ginny, you need to gain weight. Sometimes I just want to kill her. Dad's home, I'll write more later.***

Hermione looked up at Harry, who was anxiously waiting for her reaction.

"She isn't being brainwashed," Hermione said shortly. Harry looked crushed.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. The Nightmare Curse and the Future Reality Curse only suggest, they don't modify behavior or thoughts."

"So it really is her acting of her own free will," Harry sighed.

"Yeah," said Hermione.

"There's nothing much useful in here," said Harry morosely, idly flipping through the pages. "She seems to become crazier and crazier as it goes on."

Hermione heaved a loud sigh.

"Did the pensieve help you?" asked Harry. Hermione shrugged.

"A bit. You wouldn't believe how Riddle acts around everyone else, Harry. He's so... nice. Everyone likes him, he sticks up for people, he's respectful and polite, he docks points from people who say "Mudblood," and the teachers love him. I almost fell over when I saw what he was really like."

"You mean in the chamber?" asked Harry with a furrowed brow.

"Exactly. It was all an act. An extremely convincing act. It's going to be hard, Harry." Harry yawned widely.

"Well, we already knew that, Hermione. Are we still going with the 'search, kill, destroy' plan?"

Hermione grimaced in exasperation.

"I thought we discussed this."

"We did, but you didn't give me an answer. Did you recheck your numbers?"

"Twelve times," said Hermione gloomily. It had just been the day before, while researching time in the restricted section, that Harry had found it. Morgana's Theory, the book that had destroyed their well thought out plan with a single blow. It had been while perusing Chapter Sixteen: Consequences of Changing the Past, that Harry had found the bad news.

***While it is not widely know, due to the controversial methods employed to prove her findings, the Witch Morgana had found a proven method of determining vital information concerning time travel. It has been speculated that everything in life is predetermined, meaning it is impossible to change the future by changing the past. (See Chapter Four for further detail) Other theories state that the slightest change in the past could have drastic future consequences. (See Chapter Five) Morgana however, was of the belief that our futures were both pre-determined and an effect of our free will. After a series of experiments (See Chapter Nine) Morgana was shocked to discover that only certain major events were impossible to change, and these events could be identified by a series of complex equations. (See Chapter 21)***

"So we can't kill him," Harry said despondently.

"No," Hermione sighed. "Even if we held a gun to his head and pulled the trigger, something would malfunction, and he wouldn't die. That is of course, assuming Morgana's theory is correct. But what if you don't take it seriously, and it is right? Can you imagine the conversation? 'No, this isn't a gun! Gun, you say? What is this 'gun' of which you speak?' It would kinda ruin any stealthy future operations."

"Typical," Harry groused.

"Well, you can't be killed either, you know," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Which explains why Voldemort has never tried to go back in time to kill you."

"Well, if we can't kill him, how are we going to neutralize him?"

"That's the question" Hermione groused.

"We somehow have to make him... not evil," said Harry.

"Which is why this is so hard," Hermione moaned

"Well," Harry said slowly, "Dumbledore said my ability to love was what would defeat Voldemort."

Hermione and Harry silently locked eyes, before bursting into laughter verging on hysteria. Sometimes, only humor could keep you sane in a horrifying situation.

"Right," Hermione groused after calming down, "love."

Unbeknownst to Harry, Hermione had no intention of them traveling to the past together. While she had found an Aeternus Lapideus that traveled to a time convenient for dealing with Tom Riddle, it was possible it had only one more journey left in it before it overheated and cracked down the middle, rendering it useless for the return trip. She had luckily come across a second stone that was dated soon after the first one, and she was planning on using it in case of an emergency. Yet, this would still leave the wizarding world without Harry Potter for a week if it came to that. Hermione wasn't sure the population could handle that.

She had so elaborated on her rouse of Harry traveling with her, (she knew this was the only way he and Lupin would consent to her traveling back to Riddle's day,) that she had even had Fleur make clothes for Harry circa 1943. Technically, they would never be used, but they had served to shut Harry up when he became gleeful earlier upon pouncing on her bobby socks. (Hermione shuddered at the thought of the foul things.)

So, if she had to save Tom Riddle herself, she was the one who had to make him good through love. She, who had cast Unforgivables, killing other human beings. Granted, they were Death Eaters, and it was kill or be killed, but still. She didn't know if she had any love to give within her. It was also a quandary trying to figure out what kind of love to show to Riddle. Would it be a friend type love, or sisterly love, or- Hermione's skin crawled- romantic love? Or maybe just lust? She had no idea how to fake being in love or in lust with the repulsive thing. Hermione's train of thought stopped when a brilliant idea popped into her head without warning.

Library: Blaise

Blaise Zabini alternately tapped his foot and pencil (against the floor and table respectively) in annoyance. He was currently sitting at a table in the library next to the stack of Ancient Runes books. Classes had resumed on Monday, and he already had a huge pile of work to start. It seemed the teachers' sympathy in regards to the attacks did not extend to their homework policy.

He should be starting his mound of torture now, while he had free time between his last class, Transfiguration, and dinner, but he couldn't concentrate, even if his life depended on it. Distracting the normally studious Mr. Zabini was none other than Gryffindor's Golden Girl; Hermione Granger. That bossy, opinionated, know-it-all, who had hair that resembled a tumbleweed mated with a rat's nest. She had always been of vague interest to him; he was the quiet observer, the silent snake. If you went to Hogwarts, you couldn't avoid recognizing Hermione Granger. Blaise was a loner by nature, and he deemed few worthy enough of making the effort to get to know. While Granger had been an interesting study, she was mainly known to him as the bane of Malfoy's existence (after Potter, of course.)

It had only been recently, when he had spotted her striking down death eaters left and right in Diagon Alley, that he had noticed that Granger was...well...despite her unruly mess of hair...hot. The thought of her hexing him and perhaps slapping him, like she had infamously done to Malfoy in third year, thrilled him to no end. Contrary to this, it heartily disturbed him that he thought of Granger sexually at all.

Granger, however, had proved resilient to his tactics. She had effortlessly brushed off all of his intents to thoroughly enrage her with barely a tossed insult. He was beginning to think drastic measures might be necessary.

His mopings were interrupted by the arrival of the very subject of his confused thoughts. Hermione Granger, looking delicious in one of her typical prim uniforms, was determinedly walking his way. She looked so determined, in fact, that his heart started to race. Had she stewed on one of his brilliantly executed insults until snapping and deciding a good beating was what he needed? Had she just finally had enough with his thoroughly irritating behavior? He sat up straight and grinned hugely in anticipation.

Library: Hermione

After taking the past few days to work up her courage, and to make sure she wasn't making an idiotic decision, Hermione strode briskly through the library in search of Zabini. She had come across Crabbe in the kitchens, eating a three-layer raspberry cheesecake, and had co-erced him into telling her Zabini's whereabouts. Upon spotting him looking ridiculously irritated in the corner of a musty stack of books, her confidence, as well as her purposeful manner, faltered. Good God, what was she doing? Zabini was going to laugh in her face. Her only option was to ditch the conniving, be completely honest with him, bear his hysteria and possible vomiting, and hopefully get his help.

Her resolve back in place, she straightened her shoulders and resumed her forceful pace. Zabini spotted her, and grinned in a decidedly Slytherin-ish manner.

"Zabini," Hermione said with a stiff head nod. She stopped in front of his seated form.

"Granger," he mockingly nodded back, still grinning like an idiot, "nice to see you consorting with the masses."

She pursed her lips, her face screwed into an expression that would indicate she was sucking on lemons. Zabini, if it was possible, grinned wider.

"Don't make this harder than it already is, Zabini," she gritted out between her clenched teeth. "I'm just going to come out and say it. I need a favor."

It was possible Zabini's face was seconds away from cracking in two from the force of his smile. A black eyebrow rose smugly.

"Oh?" he said smoothly, his face assuming as innocent an expression as it possibly could. "And what could the mighty Miss Granger need from a 'slimy, annoying git' such as myself?" He crossed his arms smugly.

Of course he was going to make this hard, Hermione thought furiously. Now he was parroting back the insults she had thrown at him the other day, when he had needled her endlessly about S.P.E.W during lunch. He was so smug it was practically visible as it oozed off of him.

"I... well...it's more that I need your cooperation about something," Hermione stuttered, as she flushed hotly. "I... that is... well..."

Zabini raised both eyebrows while leaning forward. He looked intrigued. "Well, spit it out, Granger."

Hermione's blush doubled, as she screwed up her face as if bracing herself for something painful.

Zabini laughed. "I do believe I have witnessed a first. Hermione Granger, without anything to say! No one will believe me. I wish I had a camera. Then I could charge a galleon each to see the picture of Granger with her mouth shut."

Hermione, her temper riled, blurted out her request while steadfastly staring at Zabini's left ear.

"I want to seduce you."