—————H—————

Hermione had been pushing down a headache since arriving at the Ministry first thing that morning. Leo had been particularly frustrating the last few days, protesting that if the Weasley twins could decide to up and leave Hogwarts because they felt they didn't need it anymore, then why couldn't he do the same for Muggle school?

Once she finally got him to school, she Apparated back to the house and Flooed to the Ministry to deal with another child.

"Where is he hiding, Mistress Snape? We've given you all you need to know!" Minister Fudge whined.

"I can't express this enough to you, Minister. The calculations say that he is not hiding."

That had led to another hour of him begging her to recalculate the results with varying differences. By the end, he'd asked her to change so many things, she calculated that Albus turned himself into a goat and was being harbored in Hogsmeade by his brother. Aurors were dispatched. Percy Weasley called the Minister brilliant. Hermione wanted a drink.

Too bad it wasn't even noon.

"Mistress Snape!" someone called as she headed down the corridor toward the lobby. Since it wasn't Fudge, she stopped and turned to see a small blotchy wizard rushing toward her. "Mistress Snape, I have been trying to contact you, but no one seems to know how."

"How can I help you?"

He took a moment to catch his breath. "I'm from the Department of Education, N.E.W.T.s and O.W.L.s division."

Finally, something was going right.

"Did you receive my recommendations for modifying the quills?" she asked with a genuine smile, and the little man beamed back.

"Oh yes! It's been quite effective. But I do wonder, why were we not able to test it with the ink you wrote about? The one that changes color if a student manages to use a Cribbing Spell?"

"My husband has to brew it specially. I'm terribly sorry that he wasn't able to get it to you in time for testing, but he tells me that the new headmistress has him brewing so many other potions for her ... methods of discipline. But I assure you, he will have them all potted and ready for the exams."

"Most excellent!" the small man beamed. "But I do wonder, what made you think to have the word 'Dunderhead' appear in ink on the writer's forehead when they cheat?

Hermione grinned. "A favorite word of someone I care for. If you'll excuse me, sir, I would quite like to escape before our esteemed Minister discovers that the calculations he's had me run are preposterous."

He chuckled, thanked her again, and let her go on her way.

She was smiling to herself as she crossed the Atrium, deciding that she would pop into the Muggle world and treat herself to a proper fancy coffee to help reduce her headache. She deserved it.

She was crossing the street when she heard the sound of her rarely-used cell phone. Once she was safely on the other side, she flipped it open with one hand. "Hello?"

"Mrs. Snape? This is Headmaster Brooks from Little Whinging Secondary. It seems Leonidas didn't turn up at school today."

"Oh, bloody hell," she sighed heavily. "I dropped him off. How could he have suddenly not... never mind. Thank you for informing me, Headmaster Brooks. I know just where he is." She hung up, looked longingly at the coffee shop just three doors down and turned around, deciding it best to walk to Grimmauld Place, at least part way, to not to hex her son at first sight.

—————H—————

"You should have sent me an owl or a Patronus the moment he came through the Floo," she scolded Sirius as he opened the door for her. He chuckled, waving her in. "It's not funny, Sirius. He would have had to walk an hour and a half from school, through the woods so he wasn't seen, just to get back to the cottage to Floo here in the first place. And he's supposed to be in school!"

"The boy is as smart as a whip, Hermione. What in Merlin's name would he need Muggle school for, anyway?"

"Because he's a half-blood, Sirius. And let's not forget what an utter joke Muggle Studies is."

"I'll admit that the class is a farce, but Hermione, the boy is a twelve-year-old two years ahead of his peers."

"That doesn't mean he can just... not go. Honestly, I knew the twins would end up being a bad influence on my child, I was wrong about which one," she sighed heavily, meeting Sirius' amused gaze. "Where is he?"

"In the library."

She nodded and headed upstairs.

When she opened the door, Leo was sitting in a chair, a large tome in his lap, and for a moment, he didn't realize anyone was there. When he looked up, he fell off his chair, eyes wide and terrified as he backed up against it. "Mum, what? I—"

"Did you really think the school wouldn't call me when it was clear that you weren't going to be there?" she demanded as she crossed her arms. "And what were you thinking? Do you realize how much trouble you would be in if anyone saw you walking out on your own? I realize you're a wizard, Leo, but magic isn't going to get you out of every pickle you find yourself in. And it could have made matters even worse. And Flooing here by yourself? Without letting Uncle Sirius know?"

"I'm sorry," he said, and while she could tell he didn't really mean it, she could see that he was starting to realize what might have happened if he had gotten caught.

"You're coming with me, and we're going to Diagon Alley."

"What, why?" he asked, trying to reign in his excitement and failing spectacularly.

"You'll see."

—————H—————

It was worth showing up just to see the utterly terrified look on Fred Weasley's face. His eyes had dark circles beneath them, worse than his brothers', and that at least brought some satisfaction to the mother of a heartbroken daughter.

"Hermione," he said apprehensively.

"Oh, don't get your pants in a knot, I'm not here to hex you," she said, suppressing a grin as he sighed with relief. "Leonidas here has determined that the two of you have the way of it. He skipped out on Muggle school today because he thinks he has no need for an education. Therefore, I feel it best that he sees what it is you two left school for." Fred had been looking between her and her son, a look of guilt and unease that George didn't wear.

"Can he brew? His sister was brewing for us for a bit, but someone decided to ditch her," George accused.

"I can probably brew better than you can," Leo challenged.

"Is that a challenge, little Snape?"

"It could be."

"You will not attempt anything dangerous by trying to brew faster than is necessary. If any of you wind up in St. Mungo's, hexing will be the least of your worries," Hermione warned before turning to her son. "They are your bosses now, so you listen to what they say. No insults, no back-talk."

"Didn't one of them spurn my sister and break her heart?" Leo deadpanned.

She cringed. "Not quite how it went, but that's something you have to set aside."

"If I must," he said looking up at the twins, glancing between the two. "All right Messrs. Weasley, I'm at your service. At the very least until five o'clock. No later than eight. That's my bedtime."

"Let me show you to the lab," George said, putting an arm around Leo's shoulders and guiding him inside.

Fred watched them before turning back to Hermione, and she could tell he wanted to say something.

"Don't," she said before he could do more than open his mouth. "I asked you not to lead her on or make her any promises. If it's meant to be, you two will find your way back to one another. In the meantime, move on as best you can."

He nodded, then waved as she turned away.

For a moment, she felt nauseous, saying such things to Fred when she herself had never parted ways from her first love. She felt like a fraud, someone who shouldn't be giving any advice about the heart. She shook her head, headed to the Leaky, and made her way back to Muggle London.

"Stop fussing, lass," Hermione heard as she came down the corridor of St. Mungo's, tin of Minerva's favorite shortbreads in hand.

"You've known me how long, Minerva? Of course, I'm going to fuss," Delia's voice replied sternly.

"You shouldn't be, I tell you. Didn't your son just come home for a visit? Go be with him," Minerva scolded, physically trying to shoo off Delia.

Hermione piped in as she entered. "I think we all know very well that Oliver won't mind if his mother visits his favorite aunt. And former Head of House."

Delia smiled smugly at Minerva, pleased she had an ally, then came over to embrace Hermione.

"It's been too long since our last visit," she said into Hermione's curls. "And honestly, you should have seen the look on Oliver's face when I told him that Hermione Granger was his foster sister."

"I'm willing to bet it didn't last long before he focused on Quidditch. How's he doing, anyway? Still playing for Puddlemere?"

"Still in the reserves, yeah. Not sure how Bob woulda felt about it, but I'm sure he'd be proud."

Hermione's heart twisted a moment at the thought of her departed foster father.

"Don't tell me the pair o' ya are going to start ganging up on me," Minerva said from the bed, and the women parted with a chuckle.

"That really depends. Does bringing you your favorite shortbreads count as ganging up on you?" she asked, showing Minerva the tin.

"So long as the bloody Healers don't decide I can't have any," she grumbled. "I know I'm not a young woman anymore, but a Stunner to the heart isn't something I should be confined to bed for."

"Don't be foolish, Minerva," Delia said. "Bob would've made sure you didn't move an inch, not a one, from where you are right now. And you'd best believe that if Mal could be here, he'd have had the Healers be stricter with ya."

"And as the eldest, I think I can say I know what's best." Minerva retorted.

"Are you truly feeling all right, though?" Hermione asked, and Minerva seemed hesitant to reply.

"Truth be told, Hermione, dear, it wasn't pretty. But while I was quite weak at the time, the feeling has waned. I should be able to go back to school and oversee what that wretched toad hasn't destroyed."

"I'm beginning to think Hogwarts has gone downhill since Hermione's time. Quite glad Olly got out when he did," Delia commented.

"It's probably only going to get worse, too," Hermione added.

"I'm afraid I agree with ye," Minerva said before she shook her head and sat as straight as she could. "Now, enough of this doom and gloom. If you're going to visit me, you're going to do it with decent conversation."

—————S—————

"Your O.W.L.s are the first stepping stone to the rest of your life," the toad said as Severus handed out the pots of special ink. He was fairly certain they would work, Hermione's Arithmancy rarely wrong, but they couldn't exactly test it ahead of time. He paused at Potter's desk, and when the boy looked up, he gave a meaningful look at the scar on his left hand before setting the pot of ink on his desk. Potter frowned, picking it up and looking at it as though he'd never seen ink before, but Severus was starting to realize that it had nothing to do with the boy's lack of intelligence. He just had the unfortunate trait of looking utterly clueless while figuring things out.

He continued, all the fifth years gathered in the hall, most nervous, few confident, as they listened to Dolores drone on and on about how this particular O.W.L., the Defense Against the Dark Arts written portion, should be a breeze with the amount they had read. And how their knowledge would reflect back on their professor.

Oh, if only she knew.

"Once Professor Snape has finished delivering the pots of ink, you may begin," she said, and Severus gave Susan Bones the last pot. He banished the basket back to his lab, then turned and faced the front of the room. Arms crossed. "You may leave, professor," she said sweetly, a simpering little noise at the end.

He smirked maliciously. "I believe I will stay, ensure the ink works as it should."

He noted, glancing over Susan Bone's shoulder, that the ink was a bit redder than he would have liked. It was still black, of course, but the way the light hit made it look like blood. Ah, well, no matter. It was a one-and-done sort of deal anyway.

It was subtle at first, the way Dolores began to look uncomfortable. Her hands would twitch in an effort to stay in her lap, but inevitably, she would reach behind her to scratch a tickle. At least, he figured it felt like a tickle. She certainly wasn't screaming in pain. He slowly moved toward the front, pretending to look at the students' progress.

When he got to Potter's desk, he noticed the boy glancing between his exam and the toad with a smirk on his face. Severus shifted his eyes to the front, and smirked as well

DUNDERHEAD was slowly forming across her forehead in clean, neat writing that could never be traced to anyone in the room. It was Hermione's special charm: the spell would work by mimicking typeface in the Muggle world. She had given the spell to Scrivenshaft's and had probably Confunded the poor blokes when she picked up her order. No one sane would order nearly fifty quills. Of course, she'd added a special layer to the order before she had sent it to the Department of Education, taking the time to make it reflect a different, unflattering descriptor of one's intelligence should they attempt to cheat. Unless, of course, it was dipped into an ink brewed with a deflecting charm and a biological directive that forced the charm to be placed on a certain person. It would be nothing more than a scratch, of course. Not painful, and unfortunately not permanent, but it would last a few weeks.

IMBECILE started creeping up her neck, and BROWN NOSE was placed as though she was wearing it like a necklace. And the students, of course, had begun to notice.

"Why are you laughing?" Dolores demanded. "This is a serious test, there should be no talking. No noise whatsoever. Keep your eyes on your paper. What are you...?"

She lifted her hand to point at them and must have noticed the writing. Her face blanched with horror. "Who did this?" she asked, glowering at them. "Which one of you ... who did this?"

"Professor Snape," she snapped, and he looked at her as if he too were waiting to see who the culprit was. "Please oversee the rest of the exam. And when this is finished, I want all of them, all of them, lined up outside my office. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Headmistress," he said, giving her an exaggerated bow. She rose from the dais and stormed out of the Great Hall, her indignant little head held high. He sneered at her back and made no attempts to hide it from any of the students. Let them see that he hates her as much as they do.

He turned and walked to the dais, the last remaining snickers dying as he passed. "Continue," he commanded as he took a seat, and the students went right back to work. It amused him to think that Dolores would continue to find new insults until the test was finished. She hadn't asked him to change the quills.

—————A—————

"You guys are still here?" Ginny asked as she, Aurora, and Luna found Harry, Ron, Neville, and Draco near the end of what was once the stupidly long line leading to the "Headmistress'" office. Now there were only about another five people in front of Neville.

"She's asked your dad for more Veritaserum at least three times," Harry said, smirking, absently rubbing his scar. "I'm beginning to think it's just water."

"It's nearly eleven o'clock at night," Aurora pointed out.

"And you're out here because...?" Draco asked.

Aurora shrugged. "As far as everyone is concerned, term is over. Plus, with you lot still out of your dorms, and her toadness in there..."

"The firsties and second years are tucked in bed," Ginny said. "The Gryffindors, anyway. I imagine it's the same everywhere."

"What about Filch?" Ron asked.

"Dobby," Ginny smirked. "He might have slipped him some Sleeping Draught."

"Where did you get that?" Ron asked.

Aurora scoffed. "I've been able to brew that since I was five. And a Potions Kit doesn't last year after year."

"And you thought that with all this free time, with no teachers worrying about your whereabouts, that you would come hang out in the interrogation line?" Draco asked. "I hadn't realized you lot couldn't have fun without us."

"We can," Luna said. "But we didn't think it was fair to celebrate when you couldn't join us."

They paused, watching a wary Professor Snape carrying another basket full vials of clear liquid. He knocked, and when he opened the door, a hysterical Umbridge could be heard thanking him profusely, but was it brewed properly? Aurora tuned her out, as did the rest.

"And after we get out of here?" Draco asked, glancing at Harry as he rubbed his scar a bit harder. "I'm guessing the seventh-floor corridor is still being monitored, even if Filch is out cold, and the other teachers don't care."

"You can come back with us to Gryffindor Tower," Neville said with a shrug. "Wouldn't be the first time you and Luna tagged along."

"No, but it's the principle behind it. It's not neutral territory," Draco started to say before Harry hissed and grit his teeth. "Potter?" he said, trying to steady his friend as Harry nearly collapsed. "Harry, what's wrong?"

Harry fell to his knees, clutching his head. Draco was the only one who had no idea what was going on, while Ron and Neville exchanged a knowing look that didn't sit well with her.

"Potter?" She heard her father behind her, a sneer in place.

"Hermione," Harry croaked out, and all of them stilled. "He... he has Hermione."

"Who?" her father asked carefully.

" He does."

"How can you be sure?" Snape demanded. "Tell me what you see."

"She's screaming. She's in pain and screaming and he's laughing."

"What does she look like?" he asked.

"Different. Different than I remember, but... I don't know. It hurts, and I'm ... I want him out. I want him out ."

Aurora looked up at her dad, and she could see the worry in his eyes. "Wait here," he said, and he took off at a sprint down the corridor, probably down to his rooms where he could Floo the cottage.

"Where?" Ron asked, his voice cracking. "Where does he have her?"

"In a room full of orbs. I know it. The corridor I've been dreaming about leads to it," Harry said, seeming to regain a bit more of himself.

"What would she be doing there?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know," Harry said.

"We should go after her," Ron said firmly, determination straightening his spine and squaring his jaw.

"We should wait for my dad," Aurora said. "He'll find out for us."

"What does he know?" Ron demanded.

"More than you might think, Weasley," Draco tried to calm him. "He'll know, all right."

"How? How's he gonna—"