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The Apprentice	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 62961 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 23
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The Apprentice

Chapter Twenty-Four

‘My Lord,’ Bella greeted hastily, as she practically ran into the luxurious parlour, excited with the news she could share with him. ‘Draco has meetings with Dumbledore. He is some sort of apprentice to—’

Not again, the Dark Lord thought tiresomely, while blocking out the rest of Bella’s ramblings effortlessly and continuing to stare into thin air in his comfortable chair next to the hearth in the room. He only came back to Malfoy Manor to talk to his Death Eaters. He didn’t need them knowing his true headquarters. Only Nagini, he, and now, Hermione knew he had a base of operations underneath Riddle mansion.

But the pendant would make sure she could not divulge that bit of information. He wondered if she would try though. His mouth curved up at the visual of what would happen to her and her audience if she did. It curved up even further if he considered the possibility of Grindelwald trying to Apparate through his wards there. He knew the only wards Gellert was unable to pass were the ones around the Keepers’ chambers.

A long time ago, when he was still young and … innocent—he smirked at the thought—he’d managed to isolate a fraction of those wards and take it with him undetected. He had been able to cultivate and grow that fraction into a fully sustainable and nearly undetectable ward around his underground chambers, but he’d been unable in reproducing it. Although, to avoid alerting the others he’d nicked the ward, he would never have used it elsewhere anyway.

No, Olsen, who was the light side’s ward specialist, hadn’t enjoyed it very much when he had tried to reach him on the day of his resurrection. The man’s death had lightened his mood somewhat after Potter’s unfortunate escape. No one had even considered he was involved, because of the impossibility of Keepers killing each other. It had been very amusing seeing them speculate about why Olsen would have tried to pass the wards in the Keeper facility in London without the key.

Perhaps, Grindelwald could be the next victim, and if he was really lucky, maybe Gellert would tag along his boyfriend for the ride again; because apparently, the Keepers own wards overrode Article Two and it would kill them if they tried to pass. The visual of Dumbles and Grindles dying in the same horrific slow manner Olsen had gone made him very, very happy.

Unfortunately, the smile on his face made Bella even more enthusiastic since the woman obviously deduced incorrectly it had to do with her “good” news, and her words flowed through the room like a cascading unstoppable waterfall.

This had become seriously annoying and Dumbledore did nothing about the boy’s pathetic ability to Occlude his mind. The old coot hadn’t even touched the subject of Occlumency with Draco. Well, he had offered to teach Draco but had honoured the insipid boy’s immediate refusal, as if it was up to the apprentice what they wanted to learn. Ridiculous.

He’d seen it all in Malfoy’s mind. Loads and loads of cleverly veiled morality lessons, controlled casting teachings (all based on that moron McMullen’s theory), and essay discussions. It was abundantly clear from the boy’s changing thoughts on the world around him that Dumbles began to have an impact on Malfoy. Not that he cared, the boy was a sacrificial lamb for Lucius’s errors anyway; but Bella wasn’t. And seeing she was the only one trying to teach the blond Occlumency, she frequently came across things she wasn’t supposed to know.

Lord Voldemort sighed. Bella had finally finished talking and bounced on her feet, waiting to be rewarded.

Really annoying, he added mentally, before he flicked his wand. ‘Obliviate!’

A blank expression appeared on Lestrange’s face before confusion became the primary emotion. Her eyes darted around nervously, obviously not knowing why she was here. He hoped that was all though. You couldn’t Obliviate people indefinitely without causing serious brain damage. Eventually, their mind would become unable to hold onto any memories and they’d become useless. His most valuable Death Eater useless, he couldn’t let that happen. Blasted Dumbledore.

‘Thank you, Bella,’ he said in his most smoothing voice, rising to his feet and clasping his hands behind his back, so he could hold his wand unnoticed by her. ‘You’ve done good work with your cousin.’

He waited and was relieved to see her face light up. She remembered she’d come here to tell him about Draco’s Occlumency lessons. His Memory Charm had been perfectly targeted and had done no lasting damage.

‘And I believe you’re right. You’ve taught him everything you could. The boy is ready to be really tested,’ he continued, ignoring the confusion on Bella’s face since naturally she couldn’t remember making that suggestion. ‘Sent Draco in, will you? I’ll take it from here.’

His voice darkened at the end of the sentence, but Bella didn’t notice that and left happy, like a dog who received a special treat from its master. Lord Voldemort narrowed his eyes, considering all possible punishments he could hurtle at the boy for being such a nuisance without giving his insipid guide an opening in the Keeper rules to kill him.

There was a barely audible knock on the door. He smirked. This would be entertaining. Bella was incapable of performing Stage Three Legilimency. Malfoy would be in for a ride. Too bad Lucius wasn’t here to witness his son squirm; because once he was done “explaining” to the ferret—he grinned at remembering the visual in Hermione’s mind—what he needed to learn to shut his mind from, he’d show the rodent the true meaning of pain.

‘Enter,’ he said in his most harmless tone of voice.

---

Lounging ever so nicely in his personally decorated chamber, which had lost any and all resemblance to a cave, Gellert Grindelwald went through several international magical newspapers with a smirk on his face. Governments hadn’t improved much, and people were still as stupid as ever.

Apparently, he had caused a mayhem at a state dinner in Bulgaria; had Imperiused the Italian Minister of Magic; had been arrested and escaped in Russia; had made all casinos in Vegas pay out, so he’d have funds for his new troops; had spent some quality time with a celebrity witch in Venezuela (he shivered at the thought); had joined forces with fat arse McFurlon (as if…); and he could continue listing all “his” activities for a lot longer if he wanted to.

Gellert yawned and stretched out his limbs before taking another bite out of the delicious chocolate cake. It was so nice to be “active”. He sniggered gleefully.

He was about to take another bite when the entire cave shook and he got tossed out of his chair violently, landing quite painfully on his butt. Jumping to his feet with his wand in hand, he cast a spell to identify the origin of the quake-like shake. It was inside! Someone had bypassed Nathaira’s wards.

Crap.

If it was Albus already, he was going to be pissed.

But when he Apparated to the place, which had been the starting point of it, he found it wasn’t about him. In the centre of Nathaira’s lab, there was a huge, gaping hole in the floor, gaining size and depth as he watched. His nose picked up the scent of smoke, ash and fire. Carefully, he peeked over the rim and saw lava bubbling far below him. Quickly, he withdrew his precious body out of range and took in the rest of his surroundings.

Nathaira tried to stop the imminent disaster from occurring by trying to control the crack in the rock from spreading farther, while Lovegood seemed to fade in and out of focus a few feet away. The mostly blurry appearing blonde had her hands in the air and a positively delighted expression on her face, while she danced around inside a translucent magical pyramid, talking to something or someone he obviously couldn’t see.

Gellert rubbed his forehead. What could possibly have happened here?

He stared from Lovegood to the hole, trying to see some form of correlation between her actions and its growth. A sizzling sound came from behind him and he moved away just in time when steam burst through the solid rock’s surface far too close to his previous position. The cave shook again and cracks began to appear in the ceiling.

‘Bloody hell, Gellert, do something!’ Nathaira shouted.

He’d loved to, but what? He had no idea what caused this and he didn’t think sealing cracks continuously would solve the problem.

‘What happened?’

‘How should I know?’

‘Your cave, your apprentice.’

Nathaira growled and cast a curse at Luna Lovegood. It soared right through the witch. ‘As you can see,’ she said, aggravated, ‘I can’t seem to reach Miss Moron, who’s rupturing space as we speak.’

‘Interesting,’ Gellert said thoughtfully. ‘It’s almost like Lovegood is out of phase with…’

He stopped and turned pale. Why did these things always have to happen to him?

He finally secured a wand, and now, this occurred.

He had to time it right. One miscalculation and those papers would be right. He would be everywhere at once, Splinched all over the planet. Coolly, Gellert counted the intervals in which Luna seemed to be solid. One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five. One, two, here goes nothing.

With a crack, he Disapparated.

‘Gellert! You treacherous, self-serving, impossible—’

A shocked shriek left Luna’s lips as Gellert Apparated next to her and grabbed her around her waist. ‘Hold still,’ he ordered, not losing his count.

He quickly looked around the environment in the pyramid; the air inside glowed and seemed a bit denser than normal. Odd. It smelled like rotten eggs in here. Sulphur, he realised and held his breath immediately. Four, five, he counted in his mind, wanting to be out of there as quickly as possible.

He Disapparated them both.

The cave walls turned still. The fountain of steam stopped hissing. There was no longer any progression in the amount of damage. However, that which was already done needed fixing as soon as possible or it would explode with such force that Nathaira was certain a new atlas would have to be made. Her wand flowing in complex figures, Nathaira made the lava in the hole rise until it almost reached the floor, and then, she cooled it instantly, forming a new stable rock surface. Swiftly, she sealed the other minor cracks before she lowered her wand and waited.

‘Come on, you crazy wizard,’ she mumbled, tapping her wand in her hand nervously. If Luna Lovegood was dead, she’d be in serious trouble.

Crack!

Gellert and Luna reappeared.

‘You!’ Nathaira hissed at the blonde girl.

But she couldn’t finish her rant, because Luna collapsed in Gellert’s arms. Gasping for air, Luna mowed with her arms around not able to take a hold of anything. Her arm went straight through his torso like he wasn’t there, while Gellert was able to touch her.

‘Quickly, Natty, I must have been off for a split-second. She needs a good shock to her system or she dies.’

‘Conjure a mirror,’ Nathaira ordered before turning around and hissing and spitting without taking in breath. ‘Keep her eyes on the mirror,’ she continued, turning back to Gellert, who held Luna’s face in a firm grasp now he heard a large body slither closer. ‘And may I recommend closing your eyes yourself,’ she added humorously. ‘I am running a bit low on Mandrake Draught.’

When he saw the huge shadow appear in the opened door, he didn’t need a second incentive and pressed his eyelids together.

Stupid Basilisks.

It wasn’t the danger. He liked dangerous creatures, but he preferred to be able to watch them undisturbed. He didn’t like them slithering around him when he couldn’t keep an eye on their actions. Besides, Chimaeras were his absolute favourite. They were much more fun and Acromantulas had far too many hairy legs anyway. He shivered.

Gellert stood there feeling utterly ridiculous, while he heard Nathaira hiss fluently in Parseltongue. A second later, Luna turned to stone in his arms. Some more Parseltongue breathed around the room, until…

‘You can open your eyes now.’

Gellert looked up and saw Nathaira bending down with a vial in her hand. She uncorked it and tried to get it between the girl’s lips. ‘You could have made an attempt to keep her mouth somewhat open,’ Nathaira grumbled, whipping her wand at Luna’s mouth to get the potion in.

‘You’re welcome, Gellert, for risking your life and saving mine by not getting my apprentice killed… oh, and for preventing the entire country from being blown to Kingdom Come.’

‘I’ll thank you once it has worked.’

With a slight cough, Luna woke in a daze. ‘Did it work?’ she asked with curious enthusiasm. ‘Did they show themselves?’

‘Crucio!’ Nathaira cast.

Gellert dropped Luna immediately and jumped back. ‘Aren’t you glad you allowed me to stay?’ he asked through the screams. ‘You’d never got through that pyramid ward intact!’

‘Yes, Gellert!’ Nathaira shouted back, rolling her eyes, while keeping her wand steadily pointed at Luna. ‘You were a real hero, so, thank you! Now piss off, I have to explain to this little bitch that she’s not allowed to rupture space in her search for these nonexistent, time-reversing creatures!’

‘Time-reversing creatures?’

‘She thinks it’s how she can undo an already cast spell,’ Nathaira said tiresomely, barely audible over Luna’s pain-filled cries.

‘By reversing time?’ Gellert tilted his head. ‘Unusual approach.’

‘It’s been tried a thousand times before with Time-Turners. It doesn’t work,’ Nathaira said in a clipped tone of voice. ‘And I will get it into her thick head her silly search needs to end today.’

‘Good luck,’ Gellert wished her ironically before Apparating back to his chocolate cake.

Nathaira whirled her wand around, keeping the curse on Luna, while relishing the future where she would finally get that little blonde bitch to stop ignoring her path and be welcomed in the world of nightmares. Yes, in two days she’d meet up with Riddle and he would be in for an unpleasant surprise.

Nobody ignores Isabella Sharasvati Nathaira, not Him and not this silly girl, nobody.

---

After their lunch at the garden table of the Burrow, the four of them went upstairs to get some privacy and exchange news. However, a soft triple of footsteps hurried along after them. Hermione, who was last on the revolving staircase, saw Ron look back and freeze, while his eyes turned dreamy. She raised her eyebrows at his unusual behaviour when…

‘Arry, Arry!’ Fleur Delacour called out behind her.

Oh please, how pathetic. Hadn’t he got used to her by now? She wasn’t even full Veela.

At the top of the stairs, Ginny scowled and crossed her arms in front of her chest, deliberately not turning around, as if the woman would go away if she ignored her hard enough.

Harry turned on the step above Ron. ‘What is it?’ he inquired casually.

Apparently not all males were morons. At least Harry didn’t act like a drooling buffoon.

‘Bill just Floo-ed zees to me,’ said Fleur, holding out a sack of gold over Hermione’s shoulder. ‘Zeese days Gringotts’s security ees through the roof. Bill knew the Order vouldn’t vant you to be ’eld up in a seengle place for such a long time, and you’d be needing your money to get your books, so he got the Goblins’ asseestance,’ she added proudly. ‘He can be so conseederate, don’t you theenk?’

‘Er… yes,’ Harry replied, accepting the sachet. ‘Thanks Fleur, and thank Bill for me.’

‘You’re velcome,’ Fleur said, darting off.

Harry moved back up together with Ginny, but Ron still stared dreamily in the direction Fleur Delacour had disappeared in. Hermione snapped her fingers in front of his face.

Nothing happened.

So, she kicked him.

‘Eh!’ Ron shouted, jumping up and down on one leg, while grabbing the painful one with his hand. ‘What y’do that for?’

She rolled her eyes and pushed past him, roughly. ‘Need to ask?’

Gosh, men are so pitiable, senseless creatures—always following their dicks around, especially the brainless ones.

‘Well, I—I, she took me by surprise,’ Ron said apologetically; his ears turned red.

‘Fleur told me during lunch she’s been here for weeks now. Have you been like this all that time?’ Hermione asked, disgust dripping though her voice.

‘Only if she springs on me like that,’ Ron muttered, following Hermione disgruntled while rubbing his aching shin every other step.

Ginny grabbed the door handle to Fred and George’s room on the second floor and opened it with an exaggerated dance-like bow. ‘Zere, Arry,’ she peeped in a false high voice. ‘So, you don’t have to vait een front of ze door.’

Hermione giggled and shared a look of understanding with Ginny, who mouthed “boys” in her direction with an eye-roll as she followed Harry inside.

Despite that the small window had been opened and a hot summer’s breeze blew through the room, it still smelled like gunpowder in there. Curiously, Hermione looked around. The ground and walls were littered with cardboard boxes. Harry’s trunk stood beside the bed and was obviously being used as a temporary table, while the bedside table hosted a red-and-gold Gryffindor Hogwarts’ lamp.

Hermione’s jaw dropped. How had they nicked it? Those lamps were supposedly impossible to remove from the dormitories.

Ron pulled a cardboard box over and sat down, while Harry crashed on the bed. ‘How have you been?’ he asked Hermione.

‘Yeah, did you have a good vacation?’ Ginny added, closing the door behind her and leaning against it.

Oh no, it was really uneventful. I just turned the country dark, blew up a vase or two, and oh... fucked Lord Voldemort. How was your day?

‘So-so,’ Hermione responded instead, keeping the answer in the middle. ‘What about y’all?’ she eyed each and every one of them curiously before ending with Harry, scrutinising him. She hadn’t forgotten how he’d been the last time she saw him.

He shrugged. ‘Alright I suppose. Got here real soon, so the Dursleys must have been mighty disappointed they couldn’t ignore me any longer.’ He sniggered. ‘Dumbledore made glasses of mead dance on their heads.’

‘What!’ Ron said, turning his head to Harry slightly peeved, while Ginny and Hermione laughed at the visual. ‘Why didn’t you tell me that before?’

‘I forgot.’

‘You forgot,’ Ron repeated, disgruntled. ‘Man, I wish I could have seen that. Must have been some show.’

‘It was.’

Hermione felt immensely relieved to see Harry so at ease. It seemed he no longer wallowed around in guilt over Sirius’s death if he could enjoy silly things as dancing glasses on his uncle’s head again. Though, she did feel that getting soaked with mead was hardly enough retribution for what the Dursleys had done to Harry all these years.

Typically Dumbledore. Abuse a child for decades and I’ll cover you in mead. Ooooo… scary, we’ll never do it again. She had a few suggestions that might be more… fitting. Mmm… perhaps a little detour was in order when she went to Diagon Alley to get her books?

‘We haven’t done much here,’ Ginny told Hermione, shaking her out of her vengeful happy thoughts, while the redhead walked to the bed and sat down beside Harry. ‘Just played a bit of Quidditch and helped out Mum. We wanted to go see Fred and George’s shop, but we’re not allowed to go to Diagon Alley alone anymore. It’s too dangerous,’ she said with a scowl.

‘So, you haven’t got your schoolbooks yet either?’ Hermione inquired with a hint of excitement in her voice.

Ron rolled his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Jokeshop—bookshop, how did we end up there?’ he grinned.

‘No, and it’s just as well,’ Harry said. ‘I didn’t get an Outstanding for Potions, so I wouldn’t have bought sixth year's textbooks; but seeing how Snape is no longer around—’

‘Yes!’ Ron cheered, raising his arms in the air in joy.

Hermione sent Ron a stern glare, but he merely shrugged, not in the least bit sorry about Snape being gone.

‘—I might be able to take Potions, depending on the new teacher’s N.E.W.T. rules,’ Harry finished.

‘How did you do on your O.W.L.s?’

‘We both got seven each,’ Ron said, sticking out his chest proudly. ‘And you?’ he asked with a face that clearly said he had no doubts about the outcome of all of Hermione’s O.W.L.s.

‘Ermm…’ Hermione turned red and looked away. ‘Fine,’ she mumbled shortly.

Her E in defence didn’t sit too well with her. Every Keeper she’d met so far was bound to have had better grades than her. An E just didn’t qualify. She had to do better. And she certainly had to learn that Occlumency thing Dumbledore told her about now. She really,really didn’t want Voldemort knowing she got an E.

Ugh, she could just imagine what would happen. First, there would be that smug expression; second, the barely veiled taunts; and then, he was bound to go even further berserk on his teachings, which really was unnecessary—Lord O.C.D.

‘Oh please, like you didn’t pass every subject,’ Ron said, half amused, half aggravated. ‘Eleven O.W.L.s, right?’

The door opened and Mrs. Weasley stuck her head around the corner. ‘Ginny, come help me clean up the kitchen for the Order meeting.’

‘I am talking to this lot!’ Ginny objected, enraged.

‘Now,’ Mrs. Weasley ordered, clearly not taking no for an answer, while closing the door behind her again.

‘She just doesn’t want to be alone with Phlegm,’ Ginny grumbled, standing up crossly.

‘Phlegm?’ asked Hermione, amused.

‘Yes, zear, Phlegm ees my name,’ Ginny explained overly sweet. She bowed to Hermione and kissed the air next to her cheeks exaggeratedly. ‘Eet ’as been too long, ’ermione.’

Quickly, Ginny twirled around on her toes before she sashayed to the door, holding her hands above her head in a ballerina’s arch. ‘You lot better come quickly too,’ she threatened before leaving the room.

The silence Ginny left behind was quite uncomfortably filling the room. Harry grabbed a Quidditch magazine and flipped the pages absentmindedly, while Ron tapped on the trunk-table. Hermione had the distinct feeling that the hard questions would come now. She watched her hands nervously, figuring she might as well sit down, while she tried to muddle through it all. Seeing she didn’t trust the cardboard boxes as a seat like Ron did, she crossed her legs and sat down on the floor next to the table.

It was weird being back. On the one hand, it was familiar. It felt safe and normal to talk to Harry and Ron again, and on the other hand, she felt out of the loop—like she no longer belonged here, like she was a traitor. How had Snape coped for all those years? How had he lived with himself? And he hadn't even "slept" with Voldemort... well, for as far as she knew. Though, she supposed he had killed for the man, which in her opinion was worse than having sex with him. It was a line she had not crossed. A line she would never cross.

‘So,’ Ron started, looking at her curiously, ‘what did Dumbledore want?’

‘He—he…’ Hermione hesitated, ‘he is going to give me Occlumency lessons, while I am here.’

Harry’s head peeked up, watching her with interest.

‘You too? He’s also going to teach Harry.’ Ron’s voice sounded somewhat disgruntled, like he felt left out.

‘Oh?’ Hermione said, looking at Harry questioningly. ‘Is he going to teach you Occlumency now, because Professor Snape died?’

‘No,’ Harry said, shaking his head. ‘He said I no longer need it; that Voldemort couldn’t stand to be in my mind.’

Wish I could borrow some of that, Hermione thought ironically.

‘And that he would Occlude his mind from me.’

‘Then… what is he going to teach you?’

‘I have no idea. Why do you need to learn Occlumency?’

‘Yeah,’ agreed Ron, a bit too eager in putting his two Knuts in. ‘It’s not like he’s in your mind like he was in Harry’s.’

Hermione’s mind reeled. She’d thought of an explanation, but the lie didn’t sit too well with her, because she knew how it would make Harry feel. Trying to come up with another solution, however, had turned futile, so she sighed.

‘He—the Order—they think …’ she paused, throwing her hands in the air. ‘I have become a target, okay.’

Horrified, Harry just stared at her, while Ron turned pale. ‘What do you mean, target?’ Ron whispered.

Hermione moved her legs underneath her and shrugged casually. ‘It’s not new actually. I am a Muggle-born after all, and apparently, they think I’ll be easy pickings after I went down so fast in the Ministry. It’s all really flattering.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘But in case they do succeed in catching me, Professor Dumbledore wants me to be able to Occlude my mind; so, he’s going to teach me.’

‘In case they catch you,’ Ron repeated; his face became a sickly colour.

Harry jumped to his feet. ‘Well, they are not,’ he said furiously. ‘And—and…’ He fell silent, looking down at Hermione, who was now twiddling a small telescope between her fingers. ‘You tell them everything, Hermione, you hear me, everything. I don’t care how well Dumbledore teaches you Occlumency, you’ll tell them.’

‘What,’ she snapped, looking up from examining the telescope in her hands.

Harry strengthened his jaw. ‘If they catch you, you’ll tell them what they want to know. I don’t want you hurt over me.’

‘Harry,’ she tried.

‘No, this stupid prophecy is about me, not my friends,’ he said, pacing the room to and fro angrily.

When he mentioned the prophecy, Hermione glanced at Ron who barely dared to meet her eyes, feeling guilty about his previous envy.

Hermione looked down. Harry was instructing her to tell Lord Voldemort everything when she had basically already done just that, every time he had entered her mind. She was the worst person on the planet. Now, she’d made both her friends miserable. She was slimier than the worst slime, lowest of the low, scummiest of the scum. Damn those Keepers and their stupid secrecy.

‘If this is how it’s going to be, then I will just go over there and get it over and done with,’ Harry continued, aggravated. ‘Neither can live … pfftt.’ He kicked one of the boxes and several pops sounded inside, while the walls bulged.

‘Careful, mate,’ Ron warned. ‘No one knows precisely what Fred and George put in these boxes.’

‘Well, maybe it can kill me. That’ll save everyone a shipload of trouble,’ Harry said darkly.

‘But you never heard the prophecy. It got smashed,’ said Hermione in a small voice.

‘The Prophet said he is The—’ Ron started.

‘The Prophet,’ Hermione interrupted with a sarcastic snarl.

‘The Prophet’s got it right,’ Harry said, stopping in his tracks and looking at them both with great effort. Ron looked frightened and Hermione positively confused. She hadn’t read a Daily Prophet in weeks and wondered what on earth it could be right about.

‘That glass sphere wasn’t the only record,’ Harry continued. ‘The prophecy was made to Dumbledore and he told me.’

Dumbledore, right. Now, they were bound to have all the answers.

‘It seems I am the one who has to finish off Voldemort. Well, at least it said neither could live while the other survived.’

Hermione gasped for air. Images of Lord Voldemort performing magic passed before her mind’s eye; the way he had relocated the dungeons at Malfoy Manor. Harry was going to die!

In fear, she squeezed the telescope in her hands, and with a loud bang and a puff of smoke, something impacted on her eye. She fell backward and coughed, waving her arms around. Shouts mentioning her name sounded in the distance when the smoke cleared, because Harry and Ron pulled her up by her arms simultaneously.

‘What happened?’ they asked in unison.

‘I squeezed it and it punched me,’ Hermione squeaked aghast, still coughing, while her eye turned black.

The telescope she held up in her hand had a tiny fist bungling off its end. Ron tried hard not to laugh, but he couldn’t withhold some muffled chuckles. ‘This is Fred and George’s old room; why are you playing around with their stuff?’

‘Well, I was curious what they could have done to a telescope,’ Hermione responded, tossing the thing on the ground.

‘Glad you solved the mystery?’ he asked ironically, and upon seeing her glare, he continued, ‘oh, don’t worry, Hermione. Mum’s got loads of experience with injuries caused by them. I am sure she can fix that eye of yours in no time.’

‘Well, never mind that now,’ she said, turning her attention back on Harry. ‘What are you going to do? I mean Ron and I already thought …’ They shared a glance. ‘Well, when Dumbledore took you aside and all that, we knew he wouldn’t do it without a good reason. But we didn’t know and you were positively unapproachable, so...’ she stopped, watching his expression falter when the subject of Sirius got closer.

‘We were worried,’ Ron finished for her.

‘Yes,’ she confirmed firmly, crossing her arms.

‘Sorry.’

‘Sorry,’ Hermione repeated, glaring at Harry, trying to hide her fear behind anger. ‘Sorry doesn’t cut it. We are your friends. And—and… oh Harry.’ She pulled him into a tight hug. ‘You can’t die on us, you hear me. You’re not allowed.’

‘O-okay?’ Harry stuttered ironically over her shoulder.

She slapped his arm. ‘Not funny. Now, what did this prophecy say exactly? Maybe we can figure out something, find a loophole or whatever? Oh, do you think Dumbledore is going to teach you stuff to defend yourself?’

‘Must be,’ Ron answered, turning excited. ‘So, he must think you have a chance. He wouldn’t teach you if he thought you were a goner.’

‘Advance defence, counter-curses, and there are several useful jinxes as well,’ Hermione summed up, trying hard to make herself feel better about this unfortunate news. Mmm … she needed to finish those Dark Arts books quickly; maybe she could show Harry how to do a thing or two? Now that would be positively ironic. Hermione giggled.

Both boys stared at her in surprise.

‘Nothing, nothing,’ she said, waving with her hand through the air to dismiss her giggle. ‘Just thinking of stuff that could help and thought of the jinx I used on Marietta.’

Ron snorted.

‘I doubt Voldemort will be worried if I write "sneak" on his face,’ Harry replied humorously.

‘"Snake" would be more suiting,’ Ron joked.

‘All those pimples on his flawless skin, he’d never dare to go out ever again,’ Harry added.

Hermione bit her lip to prevent herself from laughing.

‘No, he’d have to hide inside for the rest of his life,’ Ron mocked. ‘Or wear a hood to cover the atrocity of his face.’

‘He already does that,’ Harry reminded Ron, sniggering.

‘Oho!’ Ron shouted as if a lightbulb had flashed over his head. ‘Maybe it’s already happened then. Damn Hermione, someone beat you to it. He’ll never be pretty again.’

Both boys roared with laughter and Hermione couldn’t hold it in any longer either, so the three of them were practically bursting with mirth when Ginny got back in.

‘What’s so funny?’ she asked, not amused they hadn’t come down, too.

The three of them briefly looked at each other and then let out a simultaneous snort before roaring again. Ron explained all hiccoughing, laughing, snorting, and clutching to his stomach why they were laughing in a totally incomprehensible speech, while Harry and Hermione rolled over the floor laughing even harder when words as “pimples”, “Voldemort”, and “victory is ours” passed by.

So, Ginny arched an eyebrow and shook her head, waiting for them to return to planet Earth. It took some time, but eventually, the three of them were done and looked at Ginny.

‘I got kicked out of the kitchen and was supposed to inform you all to stay upstairs since they’re having an important Order Meeting, which is not for little children,’ she imitated, annoyed. ‘But they are letting Fred and George sit in.’

The last bit came out even more snappish, as if she couldn’t stand it that they were perceived to be adults and she wasn’t.

‘Oh, then we can ask them what’s being said,’ Ron said, relieved.

‘You think they are going to tell us, bro?’ Ginny asked, watching him with pity. ‘Or do you think they will pat you on the head and tell you all mocking that little kiddies aren’t supposed to be bothered with dangerous things such as these?’

Ron groaned, knowing Ginny was probably right. ‘They’ll tell Harry,’ he said, upbeat again.

‘Probably, if I can get them alone,’ Harry replied casually.

The four of them, who had probably seen more action than most of the adult Order members, shared a look of understanding. It really felt out of place and somewhat silly they weren’t allowed to attend, especially since so much of it concerned Harry, and as such, those closest to him.

Ignoring the things she couldn’t fix at the moment, Hermione focused back on the issue at hand—the prophecy. For a second, her eyes darted between Ginny and Harry uncertain.

Harry smiled, realising what held Hermione back from speaking out loud. ‘She already knows about the prophecy,’ he admitted.

‘Eh,’ Ron said, swivelling his head between them, confused. ‘How come—?’

Hermione interrupted him abruptly. ‘So, this prophecy, we have to find a solution to it,’ she said, determined. ‘What did it say precisely?’

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A/N: With thanks to my beta, Serpent In Red.
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The Apprentice