Unmasked

One

Entering the Great Hall, Hermione fixed her mask--it was covered with gold-tinted amber cloth like her dress, with a ribbon around the edges--in place.

'Who had the idea for a masked ball anyway?' she thought. Fingering her amber-colored silk dress, she walked towards the drink table.

She spotted Harry and Ron, both masked and chatting to two other masked girls. Harry was in deep emerald dress robes, and Ron was wearing the black ones that Fred and George had bought him.

Reaching the table, she stretched her arm out towards the punch ladle, but someone else grabbed it first and poured some punch into a glass.

"Oh, sorry," he said. "Did you want any? Here," he gave her the glass he'd poured.

"Thanks," Hermione replied. She fiddled with her bracelet, uncertain of what she should say. "So... what House are you in?"

He was wearing a half-mask, so she could see him grin. "I'm afraid I can't say. Isn't it against the rules of masked balls?"

Hermione laughed. "You do have a point." They walked over to an unoccupied space by the wall. "What's your favorite subject?"

"Hmm... I rather like Defense Against the Dark Arts. Potions can be interesting. I've always fancied Arithmancy, but Ancient Runes was also captivating. What about you?"

Hermione considered this. "I've liked most of what was on my schedule. I've always liked Defense Against the Dark Arts. Some of the teachers have been... interesting, but it's always been eventful." She sipped her punch. Looking up from her cup, her brown eyes met his twinkling hazel eyes. He was smiling, albeit curiously, at her. She blushed; her cheeks and throat turned a rosy pink. "So, erm, what's your favorite book?"

'Book. What a stupid question. He'll figure out who I am before long,' she thought, cursing silently.

"Well, I like Hogwarts, A History, but I also like several..." he trailed off momentarily, before going on, "...Curse Breaking books, but mostly I read novels when I've got free time." He cocked his head. "How about you?"

Hermione, who was also wearing a half-mask, smiled. "I also love Hogwarts, A History. History texts fascinate me and I read a lot of Muggle classics when I'm not studying or doing homework."

He leaned against the wall and grinned again. "Really?" He laughed. "Then I have a very good idea of who you are."

"Do you?" Hermione said, flirting a bit. "So... who do you think I am, then?"

"Books, studying, homework," he said, "are all a staple of a Ravenclaw. I'd say you were someone else, but you don't strike me the way she does. Different demeanor, you know?"

"Hmm," Hermione said, trying not to laugh. "And why couldn't I be this person, sir?"

"My dear masked miss," he began, "you simply couldn't be her because I don't believe she came."

"How do you know that?" Hermione said. "Mayhap her friends badgered her into coming and you're speaking to her."

"I suppose," he replied, a thoughtful look on the lower half of his face, "that it could be true. Tell me, what classic--and very funny--play is it that has this line: 'All of my closest friends know that when I am very distressed, I refuse anything but food and drink.'"

"Wilde. The Importance of Being Ernest," Hermione responded.

"Then," said the masked man, holding out his gloved hand, "I am certain who you are. Hello, Hermione."

"What? How-" Hermione started.

He laughed, and led her to the dance floor. He placed her left hand on his shoulder and took her right hand as they waltzed around the room. "No one else in this school could be able to remember that on the drop of a hat, my dear bookworm," he said, smiling down at her. She stared into his hazel eyes, amazed that he had figured it out. He was wearing a pair of black robes that looked well with his pale skin. His mask was also black and so was his hair.

"You're wearing a wig!" she exclaimed, examining his head carefully.

"Yes, I am. I find that I love to remain incognito at masked balls, and to remain firmly incognito; one must employ wigs, masks, and gloves. You're lucky I didn't wear my whole mask. You'd be deprived of my charming smile," he said, twirling her away from him before bring her back and dipping her low. "You'll find that you should wear a wig if you wish to remain anonymous, Hermione. Your hair is almost a dead giveaway, I'm afraid. Though I almost didn't recognize you with it tamed and back in a bun. How much Sleekeasy's did you use?"

Hermione blushed. "I'm afraid rather a lot. Blasted hair. You've no idea how much trouble it is."

"I have an idea," he said ruefully, touching a strand of the wig's hair. "I, too, have hair troubles."

"Tell me about them," Hermione said, trying to get him to reveal himself.

He laughed. "That's very smart, Hermione, but I'm afraid it won't work. I'm too smart for your tricks, sorry."

They danced the entire night, chatting about schoolwork and after-graduation jobs until the bell rang for the end of the ball. The masked man escorted Hermione to the marble staircase.

"Well, miss," he said, taking her hand as they stood at the foot of the staircase, "I bid thee goodnight, and a good morrow."

"Will I see you again?" Hermione asked, not caring if she sounded cheesy.

He kissed her hand. "Count on it," he murmured in her ear before walking off.

~*~

The next morning Hermione woke with a broad smile on her face.

"Well, Hermione," Lavender said, eyeing her, "I haven't seen you look this way in ages. Got lucky last night, did you?"

Hermione looked at Lavender, scandalized. "No! I just had a good time dancing," she replied. "Really, Lavender, you should get your mind out of the gutter."

"But, Hermione," Lavender said, "it belongs there!" She laughed. "Honestly, Hermione, lighten up. You're only seventeen once!"

"Thank God," Hermione muttered, gathering up her bathrobe and towel. "See you later, Lavender."

~*~

"So, Hermione," Harry said, spooning a fried egg, "where were you last night? We asked Ginny to look for you in the dorms, but she said you weren't back yet."

"Oh," Hermione said, sipping her pumpkin juice, "I didn't get back until the end of the ball. I thought you knew."

"You stayed out till midnight?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Yes, Ron," Hermione said, "I am capable, you know. We don't have any classes but Defense Against the Dark Arts and Herbology today, and I had an interesting person to talk to, so I thought, 'Why not'."

"Oh. Okay. So, who were you talking to? How was she interesting?" Harry asked, trying to pin down his greasy fried egg.

"Use your knife, Harry," Hermione said. "He was fascinating. We talked about school and jobs and books and," she sighed, "everything that interests me forever. I can't wait to see him again. I wonder if I will."

"Hey," said Bill Weasley, the current Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and Ron's oldest brother, sliding into a seat next to Hermione. Dumbledore had brought him, and other Order members, as teachers just in case the castle was stormed. "What's up?"

"Hi Bill," they chorused.

"We're fine," Hermione told him, taking a bite of her cereal. "And you? Did you go to the ball?"

"I had an excellent time at the ball last night, Hermione, thank you for asking," Bill responded, rolling his eyes at his two youngest siblings.

"Hey, just because we left early," Ron said, "doesn't mean that we're stodgy or anything."

"I never said a word," Bill replied innocently. He beamed at them.

His sunny demeanor was interrupted by an unwelcome voice. "Weasley," said the icy voice of Severus Snape, "should you be sitting with the students?"

Bill turned around slowly, and stood up. "Thank you, Severus," he said, "for informing me that I do, in fact, need to go eat at the High Table. I do hope you'll join me." He nodded at Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. "I'll see you all at the lessons."

As he walked away, Snape muttered something darkly and followed him after a moment of a black gaze and narrowed eyes.

"What's up with that?" Ron said. Harry, Hermione and Ginny shrugged. "Eh, it's Snape. He doesn't need a reason," Ron scoffed, answering himself.

"That's for sure," Harry said. "An example could be the detention I got three weeks ago for 'not shining my cauldron properly'."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, frowning, "we really should be nice to him. After all," she leaned in closer, "he is trying to protect you from You-Know-Who."

"Well, there is that," Harry said, shrugging and returning to his food.

~*~

Hermione settled down in her seat in the front row next to Harry in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Neat writing covered the blackboard, along with a few diagrams and a doodle or two. The dark brown desk was covered with papers that had the same writing on it. A stray quill lay on top of a stack of papers, and ink dots were on the desks, as if the person writing wandered around the room while writing.

Five minutes passed, and Bill finally came in from his office and chambers. "So sorry," he said, smiling apologetically. "Paperwork, you know." He took his seat behind the desk. "Now, down to business. Today, we will be studying the Mahfi, a very nasty Dark creature. Who can tell me about the Mahfi?" He looked around the class. Hermione had her hand up, but so did Draco Malfoy. "Ah, for once. Mr. Malfoy?"

Malfoy lowered his hand languidly. "Sometime this century, Mr. Malfoy," Bill said, no trace of a smile on his face now. "Or perhaps I should ask Ms. Granger?"

"No, professor," Malfoy said, smirking. "I know what a Mahfi is. It's a shape-shifting creature. Sometimes called a Dark Creature, not all of them are. A 'Dark' Mahfi preys on humans, stalking, then killing them and eating their flesh and bones. When everything else is consumed, it eats the brain and the knowledge that its prey had enters the Mahfi's brain. It then assumes its prey's identity, and does whatever it wants."

"Very good, Mr. Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin," Bill said. "Now, who can tell me the specific things that a Mahfi looks for in its prey?" By this time, Bill was no longer behind his desk and was leaning against the front of it, glancing at his notes. Hermione's hand flew into the air. "Ms. Granger?"

"Mahfi's look for well-to-do people, preferably well-known and in peak condition," Hermione said. "When they assume an identity, they can go on for years in same setting, living as the one they devoured and are rarely discovered. But..." she trailed off, trying not to show off and say more than the question had asked.

"Go on, Ms. Granger," Bill said. "We're listening."

"But there are sometimes noticeable behavior changes. Occasionally the one they... prey on is a kind and gentle person. Mahfi's aren't like that in their nature. So they will change this person's character into an evil thing."

"Show-off," Malfoy muttered to one of his cronies. Unfortunately for him, Bill heard it, too, as well as Hermione.

"Mr. Malfoy," Bill said, "having and sharing knowledge with your peers isn't showing off. It is being intelligent and not hiding it or being ashamed. Five points from Slytherin." He turned to Hermione. "Very good answer Ms. Granger," he said approvingly. "In fact, I think that you've given a very good basic explanation of the dangers. Ten points to Gryffindor."

Bill went on to give a mini-lecture for thirty minutes before glancing at the clock. "All right, since we only have forty minutes left, I'll go through the spell. The only spell that can be used to repel a Mahfi, since it's such a powerful Dark creature, and capable of very powerful Dark Magic, is 'Lux exstirpare id.' This spell is very powerful, and is called the Light Expelling charm. It is simple to perform, but takes a very powerful wizard that has never willingly practiced the Dark Arts to have it work." He scanned the students. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger, Ms. Bulstrode, please come to the front of the class."

Harry, Hermione, Malfoy and Millicent Bulstrode went up to the front, and stood awkwardly, looking at Bill.

"The motion is very simple," Bill said. "It's an elongated swish-and-flick. Like this." He swished his wand in an exaggerated manner and flicked pointedly. When he flicked, his arm remained outstretched in a tense and stiff position. "And when you flick, keep your wand arm outstretched since you'll have to keep your wand arm trained at the Mahfi." He lowered his arm and nodded at Malfoy. "Mr. Malfoy, if you would, please."

Malfoy glared sullenly. "Lux exstirpare id," he said, a great deal of force behind his voice. A blinding flash of white light streamed out of his wand and engulfed a shadow lurking in the corner. It hissed and screamed, the white light reaching into the core of its very being, bringing Light to Darkness.

The entire class stared at Malfoy, who stood shaking and staring at the corner.

"What?" breathed Harry. He and Hermione glanced at each other.

Hermione turned to Bill, glaring. "Professor!" she exclaimed. "Why are there Mahfi's in the classroom? You're endangering us, your students."

"Miss Granger," Bill said, "I am the professor. Please trust my judgment." Bill sighed. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a brick of chocolate and broke off a piece. "Here," he said. Guiding Malfoy over to his desk chair, he sat him down. "Sit," he said gently. Turning back to the class, he motioned towards Harry. "Your turn, Mr. Potter."

Harry coughed. "Lux exstirpare id," he said. If there had been a great force behind Malfoy's voice, it was trebled in Harry's voice. Light streamed, and kept streaming, out of the tip of his want and swallowed another dark corner. One ghastly shriek issued from the corner before the light finished with the creature and dissipated.

"Whoa," Ron breathed. Everyone stared at Harry, amazed at him yet again.

Harry blinked at the result of the spell. "Can I sit down, professor?" he asked.

"Go ahead, Mr. Potter," Bill said, handing him a piece of chocolate. "Ms. Bulstrode?"

Millicent nodded and faced another corner, as directed by Bill. She repeated the incantation and a similar result to Malfoy's came. She, too, was shaken up. Bill handed her chocolate and let her go back to her seat. He looked at Hermione, who gulped and nodded.

"Lux exstirpare id," she said. To her surprise, light slightly less than that of Harry's came out of her wand. The fourth corner uttered two shrieks before being destroyed by the spell.

After Hermione sat down, Bill handed her some chocolate and had the others in class come forward and try the spell. They were all shaken, and the spell didn't work for all of them, but Bill distributed chocolate to everyone.

"And that," Bill said, handing Lavender some more chocolate, "is the end of class. Your homework is to read the next chapter and to write a six-inch summary of it. If your summary is more than six inches, please do not allow it to become more than a scroll length, please. For my sanity as much as yours. Go on, have lunch, see you next week."

The students streamed out and Bill was left with the two shocked Slytherins and Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry and Hermione were in a state similar to Malfoy and Bulstrode's: shocked.

"My parents are librarians," Millicent muttered. "They- they don't follow You-Know-Who," she said, looking at Harry. "Not all Slytherins are evil or Death Eaters."

"True," Malfoy said. He seemed to have come out of a stupor. "I'm not, for instance." He glared at the wall. "I never liked doing those spells. But Father said..." he muttered something unintelligible. "Meant more to him than books ever meant to me, so I'd do it, but I hated it and wished he'd stop."

"Well," Bill said. "It's interesting to see the results of your spell, Mr. Malfoy. I suppose you've spoken to Professor Snape about your lack of enthusiasm to become a Death Eater?"

Malfoy shook his head. "No. He's one, you see."

"I'd be surprised if I was you, Malfoy," Ron said.

"But if you don't want to speak to him, I can set up a meeting with Dumbledore for you," Bill suggested.

Malfoy brightened up. "Really?" he said. Then his eyes narrowed. "Why should I trust you? None of you have ever liked me or showed an inclination to help me."

"Maybe," Hermione said, "that's because we didn't know that you wanted to be helped. How do we know that you're not lying to us about not wanting to serve You-Know-Who?"

"Because," Bill said, "when you perform the Light Expelling charm, it has the side effect of the performer having to be truthful about whatever he is asked for around an hour. After all, honesty is a strong trait of Light creatures. When griffins are around, no one can lie. I believe that the creator of the spell thought it would aide in the exterminating of harmful Dark creatures." He glanced at his watch. "You've got forty-five minutes left, Mr. Malfoy. Ms. Bulstrode, would you care to have a meeting with the Headmaster also?"

"Okay," Millicent said slowly. "I... suppose I could help. But I don't know what, exactly, I could help with."

Bill smiled. "Ah. But that's only the beginning. I'll see you all later, I'll go set things up with Dumbledore. Go on to lunch, please."

"Full of surprises, that one," Malfoy muttered. "C'mon Bulstrode, let's go tell Zabini and Nott." They left, leaving Harry, Hermione and Ron alone in the closet.

"Lunch, anyone?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded, and Hermione said, "I'm famished."

~*~

"And you say that they, all four, performed the charm?" Dumbledore asked Bill, eyebrows high on his forehead.

"Yes, professor," Bill said, excited. "And two of them are in Slytherin! One of them has Death Eaters for parents! And they can perform the charm better than I've seen with all the curse-breakers I've ever met. Not to brag, professor, but Harry performed it almost as well as mine is. Hermione only a shade below him, and Malfoy and Bulstrode only a level below Hermione! Think about it, four of the students that I picked performed this spell without a hitch, and right on the first time!"

"Yes, Bill, this is good," Dumbledore said. "But what about Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Bulstrode? Do they have an inclination to join the Order?"

"Actually, yes," Bill said. "They both want to meet with you. I was hoping to set up a meeting sometime soon."

"Very good, Bill," Dumbledore said. "I think Tuesday, at four, would be good."

"Thanks, Albus," Bill said. "I'll go tell them."

As Bill left, Dumbledore sighed and leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes and slept.

~*~

The next morning at owl post, an owl dropped a letter on Hermione's plate. The return address simply said The Mysterious Man.

Dear Hermione,

I had a wonderful time night before last at the ball. I hope you did, too. I hope your classes are going well. I'm struggling to keep up in notes and it seems that everyone else is always ahead of me. But, in the immortal words of my younger brother, "Eff 'em." Lovely child. Don't know how he got his girlfriend.

I heard about the DADA assignment you have. Are you going to be able to keep it to a scroll? Or was that too much for Professor Weasley to ask?

Well... I can't really write any more, as I have class, and need to hurry things up. Please write back, my owl will know who to give the letters to.

T.M.M.

Hermione laughed. "Harry, Ron, look!" She showed them the letter.

"Hermione," Ron said solemnly, "I think that he was flirting with you. Now, don't go postal on me, I'm just stating the facts."

Hermione laughed again. "I think she knows, Ron," Harry said, suppressing a smile.

"Of course I do!" Hermione said. "I think he's charming."

"As long as you're okay-" Harry started.

"-Then we suppose it's all right for you to have an anonymous beau," Ron finished.

"Thanks," Hermione said, smiling and suppressing laughter. "I think." She held a platter up near Ron's nose. "Sardines, anyone?"