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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
- 5
- 6
- 7
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author’s note: I’d like to thank everyone who read, rated and reviewed.

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The Apprentice

Chapter six

When Dumbledore returned to his office, he immediately noticed the wards to stop the paintings from listening in were in place. He drew his wand and swirled around. With her hands raised high in the air, Li Mei grinned at him from one of the comfortable chairs in front of his parchment-covered desk.

‘Try not to be overly paranoid, Albus,’ she said, lowering her hands. ‘It’s not good for the heart.’

He sighed and pocketed his wand. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you again this soon. Can I get you anything?’ asked Dumbledore, checking up on one of his silvery trinkets. It was puffing white smoke heavily. Dumbledore tapped on it twice and it quieted down, blowing out one last huge puff of smoke in his face reproachfully.

‘I have already helped myself to some tea,’ she replied, pointing to the cup on the side table. ‘Hope you don’t mind?’

‘Not at all,’ Dumbledore replied, pointing his wand at the teapot and pouring himself a cup too. ‘Saves me the trouble of waiting for it to draw.’

‘I thought you might be late, so I went to check on Hermione Granger.’ Li crossed her legs, readjusted her red skirt, and leaned sideways in her chair, brushing her hand through her long grey hair.

‘You revealed your presence here to others?’ Dumbledore asked, frowning.

‘Well, I almost had to. She wasn’t doing to well. For a second there, I was sure she was going to die.’

He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

‘Yeah, I know. I think the only explanation is that he grossly underestimated the girl’s powers. But her condition bettered just when I wanted to reveal myself, so we’re still in the clear. Though I am sure Healer Abercrombie will expect you to boost to the world about his marvellous healing powers.’

‘Agrippa’s ego would demand nothing less than absolute adoration,’ Dumbledore said, chuckling, before he turned serious. ‘I didn’t think Tom would be so foolish to actually take the risk of her dying. It would have been the end for him.’

‘We all error,’ Li said shrugging.

Dumbledore sighed and sat down. ‘You don’t say,’ he muttered annoyed, taking a sip of his tea.

‘It was a good plan,’ Li said, leaning forward reassuringly. ‘But you should have let me help from the start.’

Dumbledore shook his head. ‘We wouldn’t have been able to explain your help away, Mei. It would have looked exactly what it was, premeditated murder. However, under the pretence of Article Nine being active, a little premature duel between me and Tom… Well, we knew he would take the bait. He could never pass on the opportunity to kill me and get away with it. If Gellert wasn’t such a scaredy-cat, I could have finished this.’

‘It wouldn’t have been over.’

‘It would have bought Harry time.’

Li Mei gave Dumbledore a long searching look. ‘After everything that boy has done already, you still don’t think he’s ready?’

‘I have faith in Harry, Mei. He’s quite extraordinary; and I do believe when he realises what needs doing, that he will rise to the occasion. But there are still too many variables, too many things that can go wrong. I have to narrow the playing field before they meet again.’

‘Not everything is your responsibility, Albus.’

‘This is, Mei, this is.’

They both took another sip in silence, until Li Mei nodded and put her cup down. ‘A wise man once said that for evil to flourish all it needs are good men doing nothing. I’d like to add that doing the right thing is also an issue.’

‘You think I am going about this the wrong way?’ asked Dumbledore, staring at her seriously over his half-moon spectacles.

‘I think you try to do too much yourself. There is strength in numbers, Albus. We can’t possibly search the entire planet for his Horcruxes with just the two of us – not if he really made that many.’

‘If we get more help, it will leak out. Tom has an uncanny ability to elicit information from people. If he realises we know…’ Dumbledore lifted his hands up in surrender.

‘Yes, then we are screwed. But if we don’t find the damn things, we are screwed either way. You know it is only a matter of time before he zones in on the Council. With our vacant seat, we are much more vulnerable to a takeover. If he can get rid of you, too, before that seat is filled with a proper light candidate...’ Mei shook her head, obviously distressed enough by the thought not to finish her sentence immediately. She rallied up though, and continued, ‘I don’t even want to be thinking of the possibilities he has if he can establish full control over the Council. Every dark candidate will follow him if he sells them some cockamamie story of sharing the power.’

‘I doubt they will all buy it,’ Dumbledore said, relaxing back in his chair.

‘But enough of them will go for it, Albus. Actually, only Gellert may turn him down, but that’s because Gellert knows he doesn’t stand a chance against Him – not without a wand anyway. You know what a bunch of opportunistic bastards these dark wizards and witches are. They’ll say yes to him, thinking it will be their ticket to the power, getting it into their thick skulls they can overthrow him someday. And right now, we are sorely outnumbered.’

‘I know,’ Dumbledore replied gravely, showing Li Mei he understood her concerns. ‘But there is nothing we can do at the moment to change that. The procedure to become a Keeper is lengthy. We do have the advantage of having two of our candidates in the running against one of theirs, and I have to give Gellert some credit for his choice. He didn’t pick a fully dark wizard and he made me a guide to him. I believe it’s possible to swing Draco Malfoy to our side.’

‘You think Gellert did that deliberately?’ asked Mei, puzzled. ‘Isn’t that a bit wishful thinking on your end?’

Dumbledore smiled. ‘Maybe it is, but it’s…’ He fell silent. ‘It’s the things he says sometimes. I can’t really put my finger on it, but there is a difference with how he used to act. However, Gellert is not the issue here. We have bigger problems than his state of mind.’

‘Speaking of those bigger problems, mind explaining why you picked You-Know-Who as Hermione’s guide,’ Li Mei demanded, folding her arms over each other sternly.

‘Not you too.’

‘Who else complained to you?’

‘Basically everybody who has had the opportunity so far,’ Dumbledore said, smiling as if it was not an unexpected outcome. ‘But Tom is the only choice.’

‘No, he isn’t. I know you had to choose one from the dark side, but anyone else would have been better than him.’

‘You picked Sharasvati Nathaira for your candidate. I daresay she is not much better than Tom.’

‘My candidate is a pureblood. I would never have handed anyone over to Nathaira who wasn’t. I know what she would do to them. Besides, Nathaira is best suited for my candidate. She is extremely logical; and my candidate needs someone to outbalance her otherworldly ideas, otherwise she will never make it to the end of all the tests.’

‘Perhaps I picked the guide who would be best suited for my candidate?’ Dumbledore replied, tilting his head questioningly.

‘Come on; who do you think you are kidding here!? He’s a pureblood supremacist; and you are not only handing him a Muggle-born witch on a platter, but one who is friends with Harry Potter,’ Li Mei said, becoming somewhat agitated.

‘I am aware of the complicating factors, Mei. It really is redundant to point them out to me.’

‘Then for Merlin’s sake, why Albus? Why?’ Li asked, her voice higher than normal.

‘It has to be Tom. I have looked at it from every possible angle, but given Miss Granger’s character, her intelligence...,’ he trailed off, suddenly looking tired.

‘Her intelligence,’ Mei repeated disbelievingly. ‘Are you saying Gellert couldn’t keep up? At least without his wand he couldn’t do her much harm. Without speaking ill of my candidate, yours really is the more powerful of the two. I’d prefer it if the light seat was taken by the most powerful candidate considering what we are facing. With You-Know-Who as Hermione’s guide, you know she is going to get hurt severely.’

‘But Gellert would let her fail miserably, Mei. He may not be able to hurt her as much, but he’d see her for the threat she is and he would not take the risk just to stroke his ego. He’d do what he’s obliged to do, but not a single bit more, and Hermione needs some guidance with her insecurities or she won’t make it to the end of the tests either.’

Li Mei frowned before she said, rather sarcastically, ‘And you think You-Know-Who will help her?’

A small smile appeared on Dumbledore’s face. ‘I know Tom better than you do, Mei. You hear the words, but you do not see the man. He is not the pureblood supremacist he lets people believe he is.’

‘Oh, get real.’ Li Mei made a disparaging gesture with her hand. She picked up the tea biscuit she’d been saving, and started nibbling.

‘Tom rallies his campaign the way it’s most likely to gain him power. His followers may have killed their fair share of Muggles and Muggle-borns alike; but if you look at his personal kills, he has a far larger number of pureblood deaths on his hands than any other kind. He picks the half-blood over the pureblood child as the most likely threat, and he offers a Muggle-born witch a chance to save her life. For a true pureblood supremacist, those things would be unthinkable. No, Tom is interested in one thing and one thing only, himself. If it suits his interests, he will change his credo in a second – no matter how contradictory or hypocritical it may seem.’ Dumbledore halted his speech, smiling softly to himself, while stroking his beard. ‘He’s not going to be able to resist the temptation once he realises what Hermione is truly capable of.’

‘The temptation?’ Mei repeated slowly, until it dawned on her what Dumbledore was saying and horror filled her face. ‘If he swings her Albus, my hand to God, I will rip your beard from your head one hair at the time!’

Dumbledore laughed full-throated. ‘I think you’ll have to get to the back of the line; lots of people want to get there first.’

‘Ah, but do they know exactly where you keep your lemon drops?’ Mei said, waving her finger at him threateningly.

‘Now that’s below the belt.’

‘You have no idea how low I can go.’

‘I’ll make it my mission in life not to find out.’

‘That would be very wise.’

The many years of friendship between the two lay solid in the air, while they smiled at each other, exchanging witty banter, until Li Mei’s face sobered and she said seriously, ‘I mean it Albus. I will not be amused if our best candidate becomes a Keeper of the dark.’

‘I never took you for a light-dark purist before.’

Mei scowled.

‘We all know in the end it is the candidate who decides on the path ahead, not us,’ Dumbledore added.

‘Yeah, that’s all pretty in theory, but we also know environment is key to the outcome.’

‘Environment, upbringing, genes, the good old nature-nurture debate. One I actually don’t have time to go into right now,’ said Dumbledore, glancing at the old grandfather clock on the wall.

‘And, on that subtle note, I shall take my leave,’ Mei said, whipping out her wand.

‘Let me know if you find out anything useful in Asia,’ Dumbledore added, getting out of his chair too.

‘So far it’s all been a dead end there, Albus. We don’t have a lot of Hogwarts memorabilia anyway. A lot of other valuable magical historical items, but not what you say he would be after. Besides, I have followed his travels to and fro, nothing. I think he was done with his Horcruxes long before he came to our side of the world.’

‘I know for sure he was still at least one down, maybe two, Mei.’

‘How can you possibly know these things?’

‘I have my sources,’ Dumbledore replied mysteriously.

‘Well, I hope they’re better than mine, because I keep coming up empty,’ Mei replied, somewhat disgruntled she didn’t get a real answer.

‘Empty also narrows the field.’

‘I guess so,’ Mei conceded. ‘See you around my friend.’ She twirled around, and with a puff of white smoke, she was gone from the Head’s Office.

‘I hope so, Li Mei, I duly hope so.’

Dumbledore removed Li Mei’s wards before he left for Azkaban prison. He had an appointment with one of the prisoners there, a certain Mr Gaunt.

---

When Hermione woke, the sun was high up in the sky. Ron was nowhere to be seen. It seemed only Umbridge, who was staring pointedly at the ceiling, and nurse Pomfrey, who was mighty pleased with Hermione’s recovery, were here to keep her company. She asked the nurse about Ron and got told he’d been healed enough to be discharged from the infirmary and sent back to class. Hermione broke out in giggles, knowing how much Ron wanted to ditch the last lessons of the year. Poppy Pomfrey seemed to take Hermione’s behaviour as an indication everything was not as well as it seemed. Clearly people do not laugh when others have regained their health.

So, much to her annoyance, Hermione got a thorough check-up before Poppy finally decided nothing bad was happening and she asked Hermione if she wanted anything to eat. Hermione thought she would never ask. She was famished. When Poppy returned with an empty plate and placed it on her bed-table, Hermione knew just what she wanted; a pile of cucumber sandwiches, several sausages, pancakes draped in syrup, chocolate muffins and brownies, a large kidney pie, scrambled eggs on a big slice of delicious Turkish bread (just like her mother always made them), and finally for dessert, a huge bowl of chocolate-and-vanilla ice-cream with whipped cream and cherry-liquor. This was heaven. She enjoyed it so much; she never heard them coming.

‘Wow, Hermione, mind if I take-’

‘Eh!’ shouted Hermione, slapping Ron’s hand away from her last muffin. ‘Get your own. I am saving that one for later.’

Ron mock pouted.

‘How are you, Hermione?’ asked Harry quietly, while sitting down carefully on the rickety chair beside her bed.

Hermione looked up and gave him a big smile. ‘I am okay, Harry, really. It’s not like we’ve never been cursed before.’

Harry gave her a weak smile back. ‘We brought your stuff,’ he said, nodding to her schoolbag that lay beside her bed. ‘We thought you might … you know, want to have it here.’

Her chest suddenly filled with warmth. ‘That’s so considerate of you both,’ she said, wanting to hug them insane for bringing her school supplies to her when she knew it would never have been their choice to do homework if they had a chance to get out from under it.

‘Don’t look at me,’ Ron said bluntly, pulling over a chair that had stood beside the bed on the opposite wall. ‘It was all Harry’s idea. I am not foolish enough to carry your bag around. I like my spine to stay vertical.’

Hermione stuck out her tongue to him.

Ron grinned. Behind the boys, Ginny stood hesitantly in the doorway, not sure she should interrupt.

‘Hi Ginny,’ Hermione said, waving her over with her spoon. ‘Want some ice-cream?’

‘Eh,’ Ron objected, while a relieved Ginny came over. ‘Why does she get some?’

‘Because she is not trying to steal my food.’

‘Not for me,’ Ginny said, shaking her head. ‘I already had lunch, but I am really glad to see you eating.’

Hermione shrugged and said loosely, ‘Nothing brings on an appetite as getting cursed by You-Know-Who.’

‘Not funny,’ Harry said, while Ron chuckled.

‘So, you’re all right now?’ asked Ginny, giving her a searching look.

‘Never been better.’

‘Really, Hermione,’ Harry said, leaning forward. His chair creaked in protest. ‘We were so worried. Are you sure you are all right?’

‘I’ll be just fine if Ron keeps his greedy paws of my muffin.’

Quickly, Ron withdrew his hand. ‘Greedy, me?’ he said, pointing his head to the display of food. ‘I beg to differ.’

‘You’d eat this much too if you had been out of it for days,’ Harry said, sticking up for Hermione.

‘He eats like that all the time,’ Ginny commented, slapping Ron on the head. ‘If he had been unconscious till the vacation, they would need to hire more House-elves to serve his appetite.’

Hermione froze; her spoon of ice-cream halfway to her mouth. ‘Till the vacation?’ she asked uncertainly. ‘What do you mean? How long have I been asleep?’

Her three visitors turned silent. They glanced at each other nervously. ‘Well, Hermione,’ Harry started carefully.

‘Oh great!’ Neville said, coming into the infirmary with Luna. ‘You’re awake, just in time for the end-of-term feast tomorrow.’

Ron groaned.

‘The end-of-term feast!’ Hermione squeaked, throwing her spoon in the bowl and pushing the food-filled bed-table aside. ‘It’s tomorrow?’

‘Yes,’ Luna said happily, ‘finally vacation. My dad and I are going to search for-’

‘Tomorrow! Only one more day, I have only one more day. I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore. Why did I sleep this long? Why didn’t anyone wake me? I don’t have time to sleep. I missed so much,’ babbled Hermione, while throwing of her blankets and swinging her legs out of bed.

‘It’s the final week,’ Neville said, surprised with the blatant panic and trying to comfort her. ‘We didn’t get anything you don’t already know how to do. Even I knew everything we covered and that’s me. You’re brilliant.’

Hermione didn’t seem to hear him; she was busy putting on her slippers and dressing gown, while muttering to herself about lost time.

Harry and Ron shared a glance of mutual understanding. They weren’t even trying. They knew better.

‘Are you supposed to be out of bed already?’ Ginny said sternly, trying to get Hermione to stop going through her belongings, while glaring at the boys for not being much help.

Ron scratched his neck, rolling his eyes, while Harry merely looked apologetically and shrugged in response. Ginny growled, frustrated, ‘Boys.’

‘Arithmancy, I need to get my Arithmancy books. Ah, there they are. I am never going to get that assignment done on time.’

‘Hermione, you were cursed. Professor Vector won’t mind if you skip one assignment because of it. You need to heal,’ Ginny said, snatching the books from Hermione’s hands.

Ron’s eyes widened. Demonstratively, he moved his chair as far back as he could – far, far away from what he clearly deemed to be his foolish sister. Neville laughed. Harry stood up, trying to get between the two girls.

‘I don’t have time for this, Ginny,’ Hermione hissed; she reached for the books, but Ginny darted out of range easily. She’d been dodging Fred and George for years; one Hermione was no challenge.

‘I agree,’ Ginny said, standing behind Harry now, ‘you need to get back in bed.’

Harry nodded in affirmation of Ginny’s statement.

‘Fine,’ Hermione acknowledged.

Ron raised his eyebrows.

‘Fine. It’s not like the library doesn’t have those anyway,’ she muttered, swinging her heavy bag over her shoulder to prevent further loss of items.

Ron roared with laughter. Harry and Ginny were not so amused and neither was nurse Pomfrey. She came out of her office, seeing Harry and Ginny dragging an angry Hermione back to bed, while three others were having a laughing fit. ‘Why what is going on here?’ she said, shocked. ‘You are not to be out of bed, until Healer Abercrombie has cleared it.’

Ginny’s head made a firm nod in agreement with that statement. ‘Exactly what we said.’

‘Yeah, ’cause there is no place better to be after you’ve been cursed with a nightmare than a bed,’ Hermione muttered sarcastically, getting back in there reluctantly, knowing she was outnumbered.

Ron snorted, while Harry seemed pained.

‘If this is your influence on my patient, disturbing her rest, you can all leave,’ Poppy threatened.

‘We tried to get her back in bed,’ Ginny objected.

Harry nodded in support, while the others suddenly became still. They didn’t want to be send from the infirmary either. Nurse Pomfrey watched them one at the time, judging their demeanour. In the end they were all allowed to stay if they kept it calm. Judging from the way the nurse kept glaring at them, while she went to check on her other patient, it had better be the case or else...

Ron whistled underneath his breath. ‘Close call,’ he said. ‘Not that we were the ones disturbing the patient, the patient does not need our help making a ruckus,’ he added, making fun of her.

‘You’d best remember that, Ron,’ Hermione replied, pointing her finger in his chest.

He raised his hands in surrender.

‘I had a nightmare once,’ Luna stated in her usual out-of-the-blue method. ‘It was really disturbing.’

‘I bet,’ Ron coughed behind his hand.

‘There were Wrackspurts everywhere and I couldn’t run away. They were eating my brain alive. Was yours as scary?’ she asked Hermione thoughtfully.

Hermione nodded. ‘Though I don’t remember everything of it,’ she added quickly, opening a soda can. If she had to remain in bed, there was no need to stay thirsty.

‘Can I have one of those cokes?’ asked Ginny.

‘Sure.’ Hermione tossed Ginny a can.

‘Professor Lupin told us Nightmare Curses are much like Boggarts,’ Neville remembered.

‘Then we all know what Hermione dreamed about,’ Ron laughed, remembering her Boggart. ‘Fail grades, ooooo scary,’ he mocked, wiggling his hands in the air.

‘Yeah, falling to the ground from high up in the sky after he dropped me was a real ball,’ Hermione said, wanting to wipe that smile of Ron’s face. Really, didn’t he realise how insensitive that remark was?

‘BANG!’

Ron jumped to his feet when cola sprayed all over him. ‘EH! Watch what you’re doing!’ he yelled to Ginny, who stood there with a dented soda can clutched in her hand, cola still streaming over her frozen fingers. A flash of horror crossed Ginny’s face, while she stared at Hermione – not hearing Ron’s complaints to Harry. ‘Look what she did to my last clean shirt,’ Ron said, showing his destroyed clothes to his best friend.

Harry pretended to be very sympathetic to his ordeal.

‘That always happens to me when I try opening them,’ said Neville to no one in particular.

Hermione paled, realising what she had said. She hadn’t wanted anyone to know who had been in her dream and now she had accidentally given it away to Ginny. It was obvious from her demeanour she had come to the right conclusion whom he was. Horror made it to Hermione’s face as well. Her eyes desperately tried to signal to Ginny not to say a word. She so did not need to talk about it. No, forgetting about it was the best course of action. Yeah, forgetting sounded just about right. Maybe she could do a little memory charm later?

‘Do you need some help with that?’ Luna asked Ginny.

‘No-no,’ repeated Ginny, coming to her senses. ‘No, I-I wasn’t paying attention.’

‘You don’t say,’ muttered Ron, while Harry helped him get clean again with a wave of his wand.

With a quick gesture, Ginny had her wand out and vanquished the can as well as cleaned her environment. ‘I,’ she met Hermione’s eyes. ‘I must have put too much pressure on it. You know how impossible these cans can be to open.’

Hermione let out a breath in relief.

‘Really, like you’re not a witch,’ Ron mumbled.

‘Oh, don’t be such a baby, bro. It’s not like you have to do your own cleaning.’

‘I said not to be a disturbance in this infirmary,’ Poppy Pomfrey called out, closing the bed-curtains around Umbridge again. ‘You can all leave now.’

There was a lot of protest and objection to that, but in the end they all left disgruntled, picking up their bags and slouching out. Ginny seemed to take very long to regain her belongings. For some mysterious reason, her bag had ripped apart. Under the watchful eye of madam Pomfrey, Ginny finally mended it and had everything pocketed again when she was the last to say goodbye to Hermione. She waited for a moment and then hesitantly said, ‘If you want to talk, I won’t mind listening and … if you don’t, I-I understand.’

Without waiting for Hermione’s reply, she left in a hurry, shooed out by madam Pomfrey, who chased her all the way to the door. Later that day Healer Abercrombie declared Hermione fit enough to leave the infirmary and she had immediately searched out Professor Dumbledore.

However embarrassing and dreadful the situation with Ginny had been, it was nothing compared to Hermione’s next meeting with Albus Dumbledore, noooothing. She wondered why she even had had her hopes up in advance. She had thought that her near-death experience might have made him change his mind about not helping her get another guide. She had thought he would be sympathetic to her idea of using the library during the summer vacation. Didn’t she know better by now? After this entire year of hell, she should have realised if your last name wasn’t Potter, Dumbledore could care less. No, that’s was kind of unfair to Harry. It was not like he was any better off. Hermione had a sneaking suspicion Dumbledore kept even more secrets from Harry. She felt like pulling her hair out in frustration.

Dumbledore had said that she had the obligation to follow the instructions of the Council; that her guide was chosen with great care and consideration.

She had snorted loudly then.

He had merely looked at her over his half-moon spectacles and had ended their discussion by stating that if she needed help, she knew how to contact her guide.

Yeah, all of Hell could freeze over first before she did that.

That evening Hermione sat in the library, glanced at the books in front of her, and sighed. Why did they have to give an impossible assignment now? All the others had been easy pickings as far as she was concerned. Sure, she could write the essay using the theory in “The Reality of Magic”, but it wouldn’t be right. She glanced over at Draco Malfoy, who was packing his bags to leave. He had been the only one in the library beside her, writing fervently at a desk in the corner. Where he got his copy of “The Reality of Magic” from was blatantly obvious, but she knew it was a pile of rubbish anyway. He could copy the book to his heart desire for all she cared.

She groaned and hit her head on the books on her desk. Perhaps she should settle for a less than perfect answer?

Her eyes glanced to the thick, white envelopes in her bag. For a second, she considered it. Then sanity returned in a rush. Hell no, it would be too damn embarrassing.

But what if that had been the whole point of the dream, to keep her away? Yeah, like he needed to do “that” to keep people from avoiding him.

Oh, what did it matter? If it was good enough for Malfoy, she could use the theory too. It wasn’t like his essay was going to be better anyway.

Hermione opened “The Reality of Magic” and began copying parts of the text. She did alright, until she reached the part on the basic laws of magic. “Spells travel always at a constant velocity”, she copied and broke her quill in annoyance.

There was no empirical data, no proof to the law’s validity, nothing, nada, zip; and she just didn’t believe it. It was in complete contradiction to Isaac Newton’s first law, which stated that a body remained stationary or moved at a constant velocity if there was no force placed upon it. But when you cast a spell, Hermione was pretty darn convinced you placed magical force behind it. So, spells had to have acceleration by principle. They couldn’t travel at constant velocity.

Perhaps she should consider getting His help? Yeah, right. He probably didn’t believe Newton anyway – Muggle physics; how dare you apply them to the holy institute of magic?

She snorted and got back to staring at the already written words on her parchment. She could do this. Not everything had to be perfect. She grabbed another quill, dipped it in ink and … scratched out her last sentence furiously. She could not do it. Hermione Jean Granger does not write rubbish when she recognises it for what it is. Not even to stay away from Lord Voldemort. She closed her eyes; she really couldn’t believe what she was about to do.

Oh well, she guessed he couldn’t possibly do much worse to her than he already had. She pulled the specially made Keepers’ cards and envelopes from her bag, and planted them in front of her. What on earth was she going to put on there?

Nothing too demure. She was not one of his moronic followers after all.

Nothing too bold either. She didn’t fancy another trip to the infirmary.

She stared at the card and had no idea how to bring up the subject of a meeting; let alone ask for his help. She pushed the card aside and grabbed an envelope. She could address it first and then get back to her dilemma. Oh Godric, she had no idea what to call him.

Tom M. Riddle was out of the question; see previous statement about trips to the infirmary. Lord Voldemort would be like acknowledging his self-claimed title; not to mention that he seemed to get a bit tetchy at people who actually dared to call him that. The Dark Lord was something his Death Eaters called him. Master; definitely not. You-Know-Who seemed a bit silly to write to the person himself and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named a bit too wordy. She was all out of options.

Perhaps something that referred to his Keeper status?

To my guide; nope, too possessive – she was bound to end up in excruciating pain then. To Keeper – er –; well, that was no help either.

Oh, screw it, he’d probably find an excuse to curse her anyway – not that he needed one.

She grabbed one of the white cards again and wrote only a date, time and place. She, then, placed the card into one of the envelopes, looked at it for a moment, and decided “The Dark Lord” was the most neutral of all her choices. Eh, if you thought of it carefully, the only estate he had, which allowed him to use the title Lord legitimately, came from his father side of the family. Though it would probably be wise not to mention the fact that, whichever name he used, it was still connected to his Muggle ancestors. Hermione snickered briefly, while she sealed the envelope with her wand and checked the library was thoroughly empty before calling out the Keepers’ owl by saying its name, Nebi.

With a cracking sound (much alike the apparition of a House-elf), Nebi appeared before her, flapping its wings. She handed out her “letter” to the small Tengmalm’s owl and it disappeared directly before she had a chance to change her mind.

Merlin’s pants, what had she done?

But there was nothing she could do about it anymore. She had to go. Summoning the Dark Lord to a meeting was one thing, subsequently standing him up at said meeting another thing entirely. Detrimental was the word that came to mind, or better yet, lethal. After all, she wouldn’t be his apprentice forever; that bit of security would someday cease to exist. She already could envision her future body plummeting to the ground lifelessly if she failed to show up tonight.

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The Apprentice