Lesson Plans

Hermione pulled the cloak more tightly around her and studied the map. Getting Harry's invisibility cloak and map had proven to be a challenge. She'd had to enlist Ginny's able assistance, and though she knew her need for them sprung from a more noble purpose than Harry and Ron's campaign to get Draco to implicate himself in the attack against her, Hermione still felt badly about using the cloak and map without Harry's express consent. Ginny, on the other hand, had no such reservations; she'd told Hermione that she'd uncovered enough secrets in Harry's dirty laundry while searching for them to keep him on his toes for a long time.

Hermione checked the map one more time, thanking her lucky stars that it was a Saturday morning and most students -- and professors -- were indulging in a lie-in. If she kept to her current course and didn't linger, she should be able to make it to the entrance hall and outside the castle without Filch, who was patrolling nearby, catching her. With that thought in mind she erased the map and stuffed in it her satchel, which was already laden with thick folders full of notes bearing her neatest penmanship on both sides. She then hurried down the last flight of stairs and across the cavernous entrance hall, freezing when she heard an echo from a distant corridor, flung the heavy door open and ran outside.

Despite the clear skies and bright sunshine, it was bitterly cold. Hermione was glad she'd thought to throw on a coat and scarf before sneaking out of Gryffindor Tower and took a moment to button her coat. She trotted down to the gates and slipped through them, taking one last look behind her to make sure no one was watching before removing the invisibility cloak and stuffing it inside her bag.

The gravel path before her curved downhill and to the left, winding past the lake before reaching Hogsmeade Station and then continuing on to the village. The station was her destination, and though she knew she had plenty of time nervousness quickened her pace. She knew she had no business going into Hogsmeade on her own, and if anyone caught her there'd be six kinds of hell to pay. But why then had Professor McGonagall remarked so casually to Professor Flitwick in Hermione's presence three days ago that Goyle was scheduled to leave on the Hogwarts Express at 10 o'clock sharp the following Saturday? And why had Professor Flitwick glanced at Hermione before saying, "What a pity he'll fall so far behind on his lessons. He'll have no choice but to repeat his sixth year, if he even returns"?

His pointedly offhand remark had galvanized Hermione. She spent every waking moment (and many that should've been spent sleeping) since then devising lesson plans specific to Goyle's needs and disabilities, even skiving off classes to complete her project in time. With her textbooks as a guideline, she'd used the skills test she'd created for Professor Snape as a template and implemented a series of Protean Charms to make the revisions both interactive and reactive -- if Goyle answered a question correctly, the next one would be more difficult; if he answered wrongly, the next question would be simpler. She also recorded her own voice reading the lessons, so that if Goyle's dyslexia got the better of him he could listen rather than struggle with reading. Revisions, however, would require him both to read the questions and write his answers. If he followed the syllabus she created, Goyle would be able to keep pace with his classmates and advance the following September to his seventh year.

She refused to consider that he might choose not to return at all.

Once she'd worked out the lesson plans and syllabus she set herself to creating exercises to help Goyle master his dyslexia, with the books her mother had sent when Hermione'd first taken on the task of tutoring him. As far as he'd come the past few months she knew it wouldn't take much to cause him to regress, and she knew the best way to ensure that he did return for his final year would be to keep his newly-learned skills fresh and active. It would be up to him to do the exercises, of course, but Hermione had a plan for that as well. Goyle was one crusade she wasn't about to give up anytime soon.

The roof of the station had come into view. As Hermione drew closer she could see that the engine hadn't been taken out of the train shed yet, but the passenger coaches had already been coupled on the tracks before the platform. There was still an hour left before the Express' scheduled departure; no doubt the engine was being cleaned and refueled for its daily run to London. Hermione passed through the turnstile and took a seat on a bench where she could keep an eye out for Goyle. Out of the sunlight it was even colder, so she cast a Warming Charm on the bench.

She didn't have to wait long. Perhaps twenty minutes had elapsed when she heard the distinctive rumble of a wheeled cart being pulled down the hill. The noise grew louder, then stopped. Hermione heard the thump of a heavy object being dropped to the ground, and then the scraping of gravel and cement as someone dragged it on to the platform. Goyle came into view, his face dripping with sweat from the exertion, and dropped his trunk to the ground to wipe his hands on his robes.

"Good morning," Hermione said.

He yelped and jumped in surprise. "What're you doing here?" he asked once he'd recovered.

"I came to see you off."

His eyes narrowed, drawing his thick eyebrows together just above his nose so that it appeared he only had one. Oddly, it reminded her of Viktor. "What d'you want to go and do that for?"

Hermione sighed and stood up. "Because that's what friends do."

"We're not friends."

"We're not? Since when?"

He grunted, shook his head and turned away. Hermione knew better than to push him -- seeing her here must have wounded his pride terribly -- so she crouched down by her bag and opened it, revealing the two thick dossiers she'd brought. She pulled them out, taking care that none of the pages slipped out, and took them over to Goyle.

"Here," she said gently, holding the folders out to him.

"What's this?"

"It's a packet of materials I put together to help you keep up the remainder of term." She balanced the heavy folders in the crook of her arm so she could open the top file and rifle through its contents. "I've anticipated the reading assignments you'd have if you were still here, created self-marking exams to test you on what you've learned, suggested research assign --"

"What are you on about?" He was looking at her as if she'd suddenly sprouted feathers.

"Well --" His dark scowl flustered her, and she struggled to find the right words. "I just want you to be able to rejoin your classmates when you return --"

"I'm not coming back."

He sounded so resolute she exclaimed "But you have to!" before she could stop herself. She clamped a hand over her mouth.

"What for? What good will it do me? You know I'm rubbish at just about everything that doesn't involve using my size and strength. Besides, I've already told my dad I plan to join --"

Again she let her desperation get the best of her. "No, Gregory, you can't!"

He glowered at her. "Can too, and I'm gonna."

"You can't give up. This is just a temporary setback. You don't really want to be a Death Eater, do you? You don't want to have to spend your life hurting and killing Muggles and Muggle-borns, do you? Isn't that why you took me to the infirmary? Isn't that why you confessed to Professor McGonagall?" She watched as the color drained from his face. "I know you hate being in debt to the Malfoys."

The veins in his massive hands bulged and pulsed as he clenched his fists. "You think it's all so simple as that, but it's not. What'm I supposed to tell my dad? What's he supposed to tell Mr. Malfoy?" He looked off in the distance and blinked rapidly. "My mum and dad are counting on me. If I disobey, it could be --" He trailed off with a slow shake of his head.

"Did you ever stop to think what my friendship with Harry means for me and my family?" Hermione asked. He stared at her. "Everyone knows Voldemort hates Harry." Goyle flinched at the mention of Voldemort's name, but kept listening. "Everyone also knows how much Voldemort hates Muggle-borns -- people like me. Because of my friendship with Harry, I've made myself a bigger target than I might already have been." She clutched at a loose fold in his robe and lowered her voice. "My parents are targets, Gregory. If anything happens to them, I'm going to have to live with the knowledge that I was somehow responsible for it."

"But --"

She shook her head. "I know you think I have it so easy, but I don't. I have to be careful not to go certain places alone because someone might be lying in wait, wanting to hurt me."

Goyle swallowed loudly. "Why d'you want to stay friends with Potter then?"

"Because it's the right thing to do. Courage isn't just about doing the right thing, it's about doing the right thing even when you know what the consequences might be." She tightened her grip on his robe, almost tugging him closer. "I know you can be courageous, Gregory. It took courage for you to come to me when you needed help with lessons. It took courage to take me to the infirmary after I'd been hurt. It took courage to admit what you'd done to Professor McGonagall, and it took even more to go back and face your friends after you'd done so."

He dug his toe into the ground. "Yeah, but this is different."

"I know. But I'll be there to support you. I'll stand up for you."

His chin still ducked down, he looked up at her from beneath his brows. "You'll admit to your mates that you --?"

She supplied the words for him with a smile. "I'll make Harry and Ron accept that you're my friend. They may not like it, but they'll have to learn to live with it. I'm not going to let you down, Gregory."

The corners of his mouth quirked up in a smile. "Are all Muggle-borns as mad as you?"

Hermione just laughed, then held out the folders until he accepted them. "You can expect to get owls from me on a regular basis. I'll be checking up on you to be sure you're not falling behind." She tapped the top folder to get his attention. "And I expect you to owl me in return."

From further down the platform Hermione could hear voices and the grinding of machinery, and realized the engine must have been brought out of the shed and was now being coupled to the rest of the train. Soon the Express would leave, taking Goyle to face what would probably be the most difficult choice he would ever have to make. Unwinding her scarf from around her neck, Hermione stood on her toes and wrapped it around his, tying it in a loose knot beneath his chin.

"What's this for?" he asked, giving her a puzzled look.

"For courage," she said. "A true Gryffindor should wear his colors with pride." Then, stretching up as far as her toes would go and tugging him down by his robe, she reached up and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Take care, Gregory. I know you'll do the right thing."

* * * * *

A few students were lounging around the Gryffindor common room when Hermione returned, her face red from the cold and wind, but most of them were engrossed in leisurely activities, reading or writing letters home or playing chess or Exploding Snap or gobstones. She greeted a couple of familiar faces with a smile or a nod of her head and gave Dennis Creevey a pat on the shoulder as she passed him on her way to the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories. She'd hide the map and cloak beneath her bed until she could get Ginny to sneak them back into Harry's trunk.

She'd just lifted her foot to go up the stairs when she heard a familiar voice say, "You shouldn't've gone out there by yourself."

Her shoulders slumped in defeat and she turned to face Ron. He was seated on a settee before the fire. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough." He gave her a look of obvious disapproval. "Are you mad, or just stupid? Harry's been in a right state all morning looking for his stuff. You wouldn't believe the stories I came up with to lead him off your scent."

"How'd you know?"

"Next time you decide to sneak out of the castle, make sure you're out of sight of the castle before taking off the invisibility cloak."

Hermione had the grace to look down at her feet and blush. At a sound from Ron, however, she looked up again to see he'd stood and was now approaching her. "D'you fancy him?" he asked, his voice rough.

"No," she said, shaking her head. Ron exhaled with such force his breath ruffled her hair. "He is my friend, though, and I'm not going to abandon him just because you and Harry hate all Slytherins."

"We don't hate all Slytherins."

She made a "tuh" of disbelief. "Name one you like."

"Okay, so we hate all Slytherins."

"Well, Gregory is one Slytherin I'm rather fond of, and I'd appreciate it if you would grant me just this one indulgence." She looked up as a chuckle escaped him. "What?"

"One indulgence, Hermione?" he asked, his lips curling upwards. "If you only knew..."

"What? If I only knew what, Ron?"

He shook his head. "S'nothing." He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and led her over to the settee. "You must be hungry. C'mon and have some breakfast; I brought you toast and coffee. Black, just the way you like it."

Smiling despite herself she asked, "What about Harry's things? I need to hide them before he comes back and finds me with them."

"Give them to me. I'll make up something."

"Thank you, Ron."

He gave her that disarming smile of his again, the smile that always made her heart beat just a little bit faster and her stomach do a little somersault. "Hey, that's what friends are for, right?"