Silver, How it Gleams

While Harry worked with his new team, Hermione and Professor Vector sat in the latter's office. Hermione took another paper from the large stack of essays and activated her bracelet.

"Professor Vector?"

"You're my TA, Hermione, you can call me Septima."

"Does Professor Snape have to grade every paper he assigns us?"

"Of course not! Severus skims the papers he assigns." Vector took another paper from the stack. "Most of us skim them. Until we work out how to replicate that bracelet of yours, that's all we can do if we want a life. It's easier once you get to know the students. I always read the high achievers' papers closely. Pomona doesn't need to read anything; she can tell how well a student will do. She still does, of course, what little written work she assigns."

Hermione stopped grading and looked up at Vector.

"That's amazing."

"I'm also told she's quite the poker player."

Hermione struggled to imagine Professor Sprout playing poker. A bunch of the professors sitting around with cards and brandy. That felt so ridiculous.

"Having a TA certainly helps," Vector continued, sparing Hermione a quick smile.

Hermione went over another few papers before summoning the courage to ask another question.

"Did you offer this position to Rebecca?"

"Certainly not! I wasn't going to offer her anything after the way she treated you!"

Vector (Hermione couldn't bring herself to be so familiar with a professor as to call her Septima) cleared her throat.

"What I mean to say is if she was going to act so negatively towards every student that posed a threat, I couldn't trust her to act impartially."

Hermione nodded, and grabbed the last few papers. Once they'd finished grading them, they got into the real reason Hermione wanted to be there: research.

"Where would you like to start?" Professor Vector asked.

Hermione took out a large notebook stuffed full of loose pieces of parchment and dropped it on the table. She didn't need to drop it, but she liked the effect.

"Goodness," Vector said. "I suppose I should've expected no less of you."

"This is everything Professor Dumbledore and I have got on what Rose can do. The important bit is dimension door, but without proper data, I don't know where to begin. Without her, I can't collect the data, but I'm going to begin with how to actually go about collecting that data."

Vector looked down at the notebook as Hermione flipped through it.

"So she is alive after all."

Had Hermione been eating, she would've choked.

"Erm… I mean, I can't—"

"There've been rumors about her circulating the staff, Hermione. Every time Dumbledore refuses to comment, we grow more certain of it. The fact that he won't speak on it is far more telling."

"But… I mean we don't know for sure…"

Hermione looked up at Professor Vector. This was the woman that had watched out for her almost from the moment she'd arrived at Hogwarts.

"I can't lie to you, Prof— Septima. Rose is alive. She… she killed Alavel."

Hermione wiped away fresh tears. Admitting it out loud was dreadful.

"But we don't know why! It could've been a trick!"

Hermione turned her focus back to her notes. She didn't want to think about Rose.

"We needn't speak more of her if you don't want to," Septima said. "I never cared for her, but Ms. Peta-Lorrum was your friend. I won't make you think of her any differently."

Hermione smiled and wiped away more tears.

"Thank you, professor."

"Think nothing of it. Now, how do you plan to analyze her magic?"

"I've got plenty of specimens. It's just a matter of working out to what they respond."

They looked at her bracelet first. Septima fired a volley of analysis charms at it, but nothing returned any results. Next, they tried physically analyzing it, with as much precision as possible, but there was nothing physically different about it. As far as their magic could tell, it was an ordinary bracelet.

"Could she have made it resistant to analysis?" Septima asked.

Hermione paled, her hopes deflated.

"I hadn't thought of that. I don't know how any of that works, so… I suppose she could have."

Hermione felt like a fool. Knowing Rose, she would've made her creations resistant to analysis. Everything had been pointless.

"Don't look so glum. This was only one possibility. You'll think of another."

<Someone please send Professor McGonagall to the Pitch.>

Hermione jumped when she heard Harry's voice in her head.

"Something wrong?"

Hermione took a moment to recover.

"Nothing, just Harry."

"There's something we can talk about," Septima said. "I'd love to hear more about that rune of yours."

Hermione nodded and deposited her notes in her pack. She and Septima stepped up to the blackboard and Hermione started drawing the rune.

"There's not much to it, really," Hermione said. "I worked it out from Luna's mum's notes."

"Pandora. One of the most brilliant students I've ever had." Septima smiled at her. "You're still my favorite."

Hermione blushed, stammered for a moment, then continued her explanation of the rune.

"I'm pleased to say that you still find ways to impress me," Septima said when she'd finished. "This is all well done."

"Like you said, Luna's mum was brilliant. All I did was put her work together."

Septima laughed.

"I've read her work. She was brilliant, but difficult to follow. Xenophilius might be the only man ever able to hold a conversation with her. Then there's you, who successfully understood her ramblings and pieced them together to form something the Ministry would give anything to have."

Hermione blushed again.

"Thank you. I… I couldn't have done it without Rose's inspiration or Luna's help. We did it together."

Septima smiled at her with pride, but didn't say anything further on Rose or Luna. Hermione appreciated it. She'd had no luck tracking down Luna either.

She dismissed the thought. Once she'd worked out Rose's magic, she'd work out discern location, and she'd have no trouble finding Luna. As for Rose, she was a task for another day.

Later that evening, Harry sat down at dinner across from Hermione. He repressed a sigh at seeing her nose in a book once again.

"Thanks for your help," he said as he gathered food onto his plate.

"Don't mention it," Hermione replied without looking up from her book.

Harry wasn't sure why she bothered showing up to meals. She read more at them than she ate.

Hermione looked up at him and frowned.

"What did I do?"

Harry returned her confusion in kind.

"Got Professor McGonagall to go out to the Pitch."

Hermione slowly shook her head.

"No I didn't."

Harry felt the unease he always felt when he'd realized he'd stumbled into a trap. Until recently, it'd always been followed up immediately by maniacal laughter from Rose.

"You must have. Who else would have?"

"Toad could have."

Harry glanced around the Great Hall. As usual, Neville was nowhere to be found.

"Somehow I doubt it," Harry said. "I hardly see him around."

Hermione frowned.

"I suppose. But then…"

Hermione's voice trailed off, and they both looked down the table.

Perks sat on her own at the table. No one dared to sit near her, for fear of her overhearing their conversations. She picked at her food, not seeming interested in it.

"Don't broadcast anything on the network," Harry muttered. "We can't risk her overhearing it."

He glared at Hermione until she nodded. They both knew she was still the enemy. Harry knew better than anyone if Perks had the chance, she'd sell them all out again. He wasn't going to give her that chance.

You should forgive her, Alavel would've said. She's clearly sorry for what she's done.

Harry glared at Perks again before returning to his food.

Sorry's not good enough! he thought with a jab at his plate.

Even though he knew Alavel was gone, he felt that stare on him that made him want to reconsider. All he reconsidered was why he hated Perks.

It's her fault you're dead. I'll never forgive her!

Alavel would've kept that stare, realized it was pointless, then changed the subject. They wouldn't have spoken more about it that night, but they both would've known that wasn't the last they'd bring it up.

After dinner, Ron walked back to Gryffindor Tower. Lavender had her arm wrapped around his, giggling incessantly.

He gave her a half smile that he hoped was more convincing than it felt.

You're not miserable, he told himself. You've got a girlfriend now. A proper one, not one that's absent all the time and pays more attention to someone else.

He pushed away thoughts of Hermione. He didn't want to think of her like that. They were friends, sort of. He'd hardly spoken to her at all, even when they were all but fugitives in their own home. Even then, she'd spoken to him when necessary. Still, they were sort of friends.

With that in mind, Ron pushed thoughts of his old feelings for Hermione out of his mind. He smiled again, showing Lavender that he was happy to be with her.

When they arrived at Gryffindor Tower, they found Sally-Anne leaving the portal. Lavender immediately pulled him in and kissed him.

"I'll get going," she said. "See you later, Ronniekins."

She smirked at Sally-Anne on her way past.

Ron blinked. He had no idea what had just happened.

"How often do you talk about me?" Sally-Anne asked.

Ron frowned.

"What?"

"She did that to make me jealous, which means she sees me as a threat. Knowing you, it didn't occur to you to not talk about me to her."

He hadn't thought it possible, but that only made him more confused.

"Why can't I talk about you with her?"

Sally-Anne nodded down the corridor and started walking.

"It's almost curfew, so we can get a head start on our rounds."

"But I—"

"Now, Ronald."

Anger bubbled inside him. He'd already gone through the day with Lavender pushing him from one place to another and being just a little too clingy. He didn't need Sally-Anne ordering him around.

In contrast to his anger, her demeanor softened.

"I'm just trying to help you," she said softly. "You've had a look about you like you're not sure what's going on anymore, and I'd like to help. I'm not asking you to tell me anything, just offering some friendly advice."

Ron glanced back at the portal, then started walking with Sally-Anne.

"Where's your pack?" Sally-Anne asked.

"Lav hates it when I've got it on," Ron said. "Says it doesn't look right for a man to have a purse."

He glanced at Sally-Anne, awaiting an answer. When she didn't offer one, he turned back to the corridor before them.

"Don't worry about it," Sally-Anne said. "You don't need your pack all the time."

"It helps to have it," Ron said. "With it, I've got everything I'll ever need."

Sally-Anne drew a deep breath. Ron tensed, waiting for a condescending sigh, but none came.

"Every relationship requires some compromise, Ron. How important is it to you to keep your pack with you?"

"With Rose around, very. She's against us now."

Sally-Anne frowned, which didn't surprise Ron. Dumbledore hadn't said explicitly that Rose was against them, but it was obvious to him. Asking to be notified immediately of any encounters, forcing them to learn occlumency from Snape, and keeping the rest of the staff out of the loop all pointed to one thing: Dumbledore wanted them to be on guard against Rose.

"Are you sure?"

Ron explained his reasoning to her as they walked down to the sixth floor.

"That makes sense," Sally-Anne said. "Actually, it makes a lot of sense. How come they haven't told anyone else?"

"That's not my specialty, logic is," he replied. "I'm the chessmaster, remember? You're the people person. I just put things together."

Sally-Anne frowned, deep in thought. Even upset, Sally-Anne still looked nice. When Lavender got upset, she looked dreadful, sort of like a goblin. And her voice turned to a screech. Not like Sally-Anne, who remained dignified at all times.

"I wonder… they might not be sure," Sally-Anne said at last. "If Professor Dumbledore doesn't know she's really against us, he'd avoid saying that until he knew. That way, if there's something bigger going on, he didn't turn us all against Rose on accident."

Ron nodded. That made sense, but everything always made sense when Sally-Anne explained it.

"Anyway," Sally-Anne said, "don't talk about me so much with Lavender. She'll think I'm a threat if you do."

Ron frowned. Why was dating so complicated? What was wrong with talking about female friends? Sally-Anne was just a friend. Was he not allowed to talk about Ginny or Hermione either?

"I'm confused."

"Story of your life when it comes to women, Ronald," Sally-Anne said. "What would you think if I started talking about Draco all the time?"

"Since when are you on a first-name basis with Malfoy?"

"Calm down. Do you see my point? All I had to do was use his first name. Most of the school calls me 'Perks', 'Traitor', or various insults, but you call me 'Sally-Anne'. The more you talk about me, the worse it's going to get, because Lavender will think just what you did right now. She'll wonder why you're so friendly with me, and think she's got a rival. She's the jealous type, it's why she leads you around like that. She's showing you off."

Ron stared blankly into place as his week began to make sense.

"All I'm saying is that maybe you want to take things a little more slowly with her," Sally-Anne said. "And don't mention me at all. Or Hermione. If Lavender brings either of us, just change the subject."

Ron nodded, but he stayed focused on one part of what Sally-Anne had said.

"She's showing me off?"

"Of course she is. What girl in her right mind wouldn't? She's dating Ron Weasley."

Ron turned away so she wouldn't see him blush. It crossed his mind that she might pick up on him doing that, but she hadn't said anything thus far.

"Thank you. For everything."

Sally-Anne smiled her timid smile.

"Think nothing of it. I'm glad I can still help someone."

Hermione walked into Professor Dumbledore's office feeling nervous. Not because she'd been summoned to his office; she was used to that, but because she knew what memory they'd be reviewing that day.

She pulled a silver strand from her head, dropped it into the Pensieve, and they went in after it.

They appeared in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. A line of students formed from a wardrobe, and Professor Lupin stood nearby, laughing and keeping them all moving.

Ron stood at the front of the line, and a spider stood in front of him. Once he took care of it, the next person in line went.

Hermione hadn't noticed before, but Lupin went pale when he saw Rose step up to the wardrobe. He ran at her, but the boggart changed too quickly for him to stop it.

It grew into a large black dragon. Where Hermione would've expected to see confidence, she only saw fear in Rose.

The dragon swept its tail at Lupin, knocking him out cold and hurling him across the room. Students began to panic, but the dragon cut them off from leaving by summoning a swarm of locusts at the door.

<Sk'lar! Shadow! Ali!>

Hermione winced when Rose's voice entered her mind. Her friend had been so scared, she hadn't realized she'd been audible.

The fake Valignatiejir hurled a bolt of acid towards the collected students.

<Help her.>

"That's Reflectesalon," Hermione explained. "He knew—"

Dumbledore held up a hand to keep her silent. His gaze was fixed on the scene before them.

Sally-Anne leapt up and summoned a shield, hoping to protect the students until someone came up with a better plan.

Hermione glanced at Ron. He'd felt horrible about not reacting to help, but at the time, there was so little he could've done. Now he would've animated half the desks into an army and sent them after the dragon, then convinced Harry and Hermione to rush it to confuse it.

Instead, the bolt shattered the shield, and the other Hermione knocked Sally-Anne out of the way before she got hurt.

The memory went fuzzy, and Hermione realized it was because she hadn't been entirely coherent through it. It was a little disorienting at first, fading in and out of existence like that.

"Why did Reflectesalon talk to you?" Dumbledore asked.

"He knew the only one who could stop it was Rose, and the only way to get her to snap out of it was for me to get hurt. It wasn't a great plan, but… she was terrified of Valignatiejir. The possibility that he'd broken through into this world hung over her for years."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at her.

"Reflectesalon is supposed to be her conscience?"

"Sort of. Rose does whatever she wants most of the time, which is what she really wants to be able to do, but Ref keeps her from getting carried away."

Dumbledore nodded.

"I recall her telling me that Reflectesalon was under orders to inform her brother if she did anything of which he'd disapprove. Is there a reason he hasn't done so?"

Hermione frowned and shook her head.

"I don't know. I wish I did, but… I don't know."

The memory faded in and out, until they appeared in the Hospital Wing. Hermione sat on one of the beds while Madame Pomfrey looked over the other Hermione. Then everything faded again, and the other Hermione woke up. Her friends joined her in the Hospital Wing, sans Rose.

As her friends all expressed doubts about Rose, Hermione glared at Perks when her voice joined the fray. Everyone else had doubted Rose, but Hermione should've seen it then that Perks would one day turn her back on them entirely.

Another Dumbledore arrived, making it the first memory that had both of them. He talked some sense into her friends, then let them be to work out where Rose was. The real Dumbledore listened intently to their plan, then they followed the other Hermione as the memory shifted to bring them out of the Hospital Wing.

Hermione blushed as she watched the other Hermione threaten the Twins, but stifled a laugh when she saw how terrified they were of her.

"I must say, I'm impressed with your resourcefulness," Dumbledore said. "Even if you were all technically getting into trouble."

"Wasn't this your plan?" Hermione asked. "That's why you visited us, right? To make sure we were working out where Rose was?"

Dumbledore's silence answered her question.

They followed the other Hermione and one of the Twins down into the Dungeons. The Weasley left, leaving them alone with the other Hermione.

"Professor Snape!"

If Dumbledore didn't know Rose had hidden herself with Snape, Hermione couldn't tell it on his face.

"What do you want, Ms. Granger?"

"That might be the kindest I've ever heard him speak to a student," Dumbledore mused.

"She won't hide in the Room of Requirement because that was the first place we looked, so she'll be somewhere out of the way. Rose wouldn't pick a random classroom because she wouldn't risk a student finding her on accident. Therefore, she'll pick somewhere where people are least likely to go, which is your office."

"Once again, nicely done."

When the other Hermione walked past, Hermione heard Snape mutter "Well done".

"I knew it!" she hissed. "I knew he'd complemented me!"

Dumbledore shot her a look that reminded her that wasn't the point.

They followed the other Hermione to where Rose was sitting in Snape's office. Hermione herself wanted to hold Rose close, to comfort her. She had to settle for watching another girl do it, even if that girl had been her once upon a time.

You've got no idea how good you've got it, she thought of her younger self. Enjoy it while it lasts, because it won't last forever.

Shortly after Snape left, the memory changed, and they appeared outside in the forest. After hearing voices in her head, a crack opened in the air.

Dumbledore straightened up. This was the part for which he'd been waiting.

Four people stood behind the gate Sk'lar had formed. The other Hermione identified each of them in turn.

As the other Hermione and Rose talked with Rose's family, Dumbledore listened, keeping his hand up to prevent Hermione from saying anything. His gaze remained fixed on them, studying every detail.

After the crack closed, it was Hermione's turn to hold up her hand for silence. The memory wasn't finished.

"You want to know its name, right?" Rose asked.

The other Hermione paused for a moment. It felt odd to Hermione that there had been a time when she hadn't known its name.

"Yeah. That's it. You don't have to if you don't want to."

"Valignatiejir."

The word echoed as the memory faded away, and they returned to Dumbledore's office.

"Interesting," Dumbledore said. "They did speak like her, but they didn't seem too much like her to make me think they were illusions she'd created. Like you, I noticed that she was off that year, but after that incident, she was better."

Hermione nodded. She remembered it all too well.

"What do you think?" he asked.

The question caught her off guard. Until then, she'd assumed she was there to provide Dumbledore with memories and information, not opinions.

"I don't—"

"I'm sure you've got an opinion, Ms. Granger."

Hermione had lots of opinions, but most of them were some variation of "Rose is innocent, and Sylvia's not." She doubted that was the answer Professor Dumbledore wanted.

"Erm… I think that was her family. I think what she said about being from another world was true."

"Why?"

"Because she was my friend! Because I saw her in that room with Professor Snape! She was vulnerable, scared! I know what I saw! Rose isn't evil!"

Professor Dumbledore had returned to his desk, and now had his hands folded in front of him. He gazed at he over his half-moon spectacles.

"How old was she?"

Hermione glared at him. She fought to keep her voice level.

"What does it matter?"

"She'll be 25 now."

Hermione froze. In all the time she'd known Rose, she'd never gotten a straight answer about her age. Hermione had always assumed that Rose didn't know how old she was. Even so, eight years felt like more than it should've been. Hermione had always know Rose was older than she seemed, but that was too much.

"How do you know?"

"She told me, after Ref told her."

Hermione fumed at the thought of someone knowing more about Rose than she did.

"What's it matter how old she was?"

"Because you're too attached to her. Try imagining someone of her actual age spending time with you."

Hermione tried to imagine it, but it still didn't feel right. That wasn't who Rose was. Rose was her friend! Maybe they weren't the same age, but that didn't matter! Deep down, they were the same. Two lost girls, different from everyone else, trying to find their way in the world.

Hermione found herself longing for Rose to have stayed with her. At that moment, she felt alone, cut off from everyone else.

"That's not who Rose was. She was my friend, whether you believe it or not. You can't understand—"

"I understand precisely what it feels like to watch a loved one slip away and want desperately to believe that they aren't. I have felt exactly as you do, and my refusal to see the truth cost me dearly. Not to mention the countless lives lost because I refused to believe that my friend had turned."

Dumbledore's words sank in, and Hermione backed down. She didn't know to what he was referring, but it didn't take long to work it out.

"Grindelwald?"

Dumbledore hesitated for a second before nodding.

"Gellert Grindelwald was my closest friend for a time. I am responsible for his rise to power. I have said before: I will not allow you to repeat my mistakes. The longer you deny that Rose has turned on us, the harder it will be to stop her."

"I'll… erm… I don't know."

When she met Dumbledore's gaze, it was more stern than she'd ever seen it. There was no laid back old man. This was a man who'd made countless mistakes and knew the full weight of them. She couldn't bear that look. It only made her more confused.

"I'm…"

"There is a terrible burden on your shoulders, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore said without breaking his gaze. "I can see that you're not ready to bear it."

Some instinct in Hermione told her to argue that, but she kept her mouth shut.

"If I could help you, I would, but there is information in your head that no one else has. Not to mention, your mind is unique."

"I… I don't know what to do."

Dumbledore stared her down for a moment, then eased up. Without a word, he motioned to the door. She gladly took his invitation to leave.

Before she left his office, he gave her one last piece of advice.

"Remember: We are not fighting the friend in your memories. We are fighting what she became."

While Harry worked with his new team, Hermione and Professor Vector sat in the latter's office. Hermione took another paper from the large stack of essays and activated her bracelet.

"Professor Vector?"

"You're my TA, Hermione, you can call me Septima."

"Does Professor Snape have to grade every paper he assigns us?"

"Of course not! Severus skims the papers he assigns." Vector took another paper from the stack. "Most of us skim them. Until we work out how to replicate that bracelet of yours, that's all we can do if we want a life. It's easier once you get to know the students. I always read the high achievers' papers closely. Pomona doesn't need to read anything; she can tell how well a student will do. She still does, of course, what little written work she assigns."

Hermione stopped grading and looked up at Vector.

"That's amazing."

"I'm also told she's quite the poker player."

Hermione struggled to imagine Professor Sprout playing poker. A bunch of the professors sitting around with cards and brandy. That felt so ridiculous.

"Having a TA certainly helps," Vector continued, sparing Hermione a quick smile.

Hermione went over another few papers before summoning the courage to ask another question.

"Did you offer this position to Rebecca?"

"Certainly not! I wasn't going to offer her anything after the way she treated you!"

Vector (Hermione couldn't bring herself to be so familiar with a professor as to call her Septima) cleared her throat.

���What I mean to say is if she was going to act so negatively towards every student that posed a threat, I couldn't trust her to act impartially."

Hermione nodded, and grabbed the last few papers. Once they'd finished grading them, they got into the real reason Hermione wanted to be there: research.

"Where would you like to start?" Professor Vector asked.

Hermione took out a large notebook stuffed full of loose pieces of parchment and dropped it on the table. She didn't need to drop it, but she liked the effect.

"Goodness," Vector said. "I suppose I should've expected no less of you."

"This is everything Professor Dumbledore and I have got on what Rose can do. The important bit is dimension door, but without proper data, I don't know where to begin. Without her, I can't collect the data, but I'm going to begin with how to actually go about collecting that data."

Vector looked down at the notebook as Hermione flipped through it.

"So she is alive after all."

Had Hermione been eating, she would've choked.

"Erm… I mean, I can't—"

"There've been rumors about her circulating the staff, Hermione. Every time Dumbledore refuses to comment, we grow more certain of it. The fact that he won't speak on it is far more telling."

"But… I mean we don't know for sure…"

Hermione looked up at Professor Vector. This was the woman that had watched out for her almost from the moment she'd arrived at Hogwarts.

"I can't lie to you, Prof— Septima. Rose is alive. She… she killed Alavel."

Hermione wiped away fresh tears. Admitting it out loud was dreadful.

"But we don't know why! It could've been a trick!"

Hermione turned her focus back to her notes. She didn't want to think about Rose.

"We needn't speak more of her if you don't want to," Septima said. "I never cared for her, but Ms. Peta-Lorrum was your friend. I won't make you think of her any differently."

Hermione smiled and wiped away more tears.

"Thank you, professor."

"Think nothing of it. Now, how do you plan to analyze her magic?"

"I've got plenty of specimens. It's just a matter of working out to what they respond."

They looked at her bracelet first. Septima fired a volley of analysis charms at it, but nothing returned any results. Next, they tried physically analyzing it, with as much precision as possible, but there was nothing physically different about it. As far as their magic could tell, it was an ordinary bracelet.

"Could she have made it resistant to analysis?" Septima asked.

Hermione paled, her hopes deflated.

"I hadn't thought of that. I don't know how any of that works, so… I suppose she could have."

Hermione felt like a fool. Knowing Rose, she would've made her creations resistant to analysis. Everything had been pointless.

"Don't look so glum. This was only one possibility. You'll think of another."

<Someone please send Professor McGonagall to the Pitch.>

Hermione jumped when she heard Harry's voice in her head.

"Something wrong?"

Hermione took a moment to recover.

"Nothing, just Harry."

"There's something we can talk about," Septima said. "I'd love to hear more about that rune of yours."

Hermione nodded and deposited her notes in her pack. She and Septima stepped up to the blackboard and Hermione started drawing the rune.

"There's not much to it, really," Hermione said. "I worked it out from Luna's mum's notes."

"Pandora. One of the most brilliant students I've ever had." Septima smiled at her. "You're still my favorite."

Hermione blushed, stammered for a moment, then continued her explanation of the rune.

"I'm pleased to say that you still find ways to impress me," Septima said when she'd finished. "This is all well done."

"Like you said, Luna's mum was brilliant. All I did was put her work together."

Septima laughed.

"I've read her work. She was brilliant, but difficult to follow. Xenophilius might be the only man ever able to hold a conversation with her. Then there's you, who successfully understood her ramblings and pieced them together to form something the Ministry would give anything to have."

Hermione blushed again.

"Thank you. I… I couldn't have done it without Rose's inspiration or Luna's help. We did it together."

Septima smiled at her with pride, but didn't say anything further on Rose or Luna. Hermione appreciated it. She'd had no luck tracking down Luna either.

She dismissed the thought. Once she'd worked out Rose's magic, she'd work out discern location, and she'd have no trouble finding Luna. As for Rose, she was a task for another day.

Later that evening, Harry sat down at dinner across from Hermione. He repressed a sigh at seeing her nose in a book once again.

"Thanks for your help," he said as he gathered food onto his plate.

"Don't mention it," Hermione replied without looking up from her book.

Harry wasn't sure why she bothered showing up to meals. She read more at them than she ate.

Hermione looked up at him and frowned.

"What did I do?"

Harry returned her confusion in kind.

"Got Professor McGonagall to go out to the Pitch."

Hermione slowly shook her head.

"No I didn't."

Harry felt the unease he always felt when he'd realized he'd stumbled into a trap. Until recently, it'd always been followed up immediately by maniacal laughter from Rose.

"You must have. Who else would have?"

"Toad could have."

Harry glanced around the Great Hall. As usual, Neville was nowhere to be found.

"Somehow I doubt it," Harry said. "I hardly see him around."

Hermione frowned.

"I suppose. But then…"

Hermione's voice trailed off, and they both looked down the table.

Perks sat on her own at the table. No one dared to sit near her, for fear of her overhearing their conversations. She picked at her food, not seeming interested in it.

"Don't broadcast anything on the network," Harry muttered. "We can't risk her overhearing it."

He glared at Hermione until she nodded. They both knew she was still the enemy. Harry knew better than anyone if Perks had the chance, she'd sell them all out again. He wasn't going to give her that chance.

You should forgive her, Alavel would've said. She's clearly sorry for what she's done.

Harry glared at Perks again before returning to his food.

Sorry's not good enough! he thought with a jab at his plate.

Even though he knew Alavel was gone, he felt that stare on him that made him want to reconsider. All he reconsidered was why he hated Perks.

It's her fault you're dead. I'll never forgive her!

Alavel would've kept that stare, realized it was pointless, then changed the subject. They wouldn't have spoken more about it that night, but they both would've known that wasn't the last they'd bring it up.

After dinner, Ron walked back to Gryffindor Tower. Lavender had her arm wrapped around his, giggling incessantly.

He gave her a half smile that he hoped was more convincing than it felt.

You're not miserable, he told himself. You've got a girlfriend now. A proper one, not one that's absent all the time and pays more attention to someone else.

He pushed away thoughts of Hermione. He didn't want to think of her like that. They were friends, sort of. He'd hardly spoken to her at all, even when they were all but fugitives in their own home. Even then, she'd spoken to him when necessary. Still, they were sort of friends.

With that in mind, Ron pushed thoughts of his old feelings for Hermione out of his mind. He smiled again, showing Lavender that he was happy to be with her.

When they arrived at Gryffindor Tower, they found Sally-Anne leaving the portal. Lavender immediately pulled him in and kissed him.

"I'll get going," she said. "See you later, Ronniekins."

She smirked at Sally-Anne on her way past.

Ron blinked. He had no idea what had just happened.

"How often do you talk about me?" Sally-Anne asked.

Ron frowned.

"What?"

"She did that to make me jealous, which means she sees me as a threat. Knowing you, it didn't occur to you to not talk about me to her."

He hadn't thought it possible, but that only made him more confused.

"Why can't I talk about you with her?"

Sally-Anne nodded down the corridor and started walking.

"It's almost curfew, so we can get a head start on our rounds."

"But I—"

���Now, Ronald."

Anger bubbled inside him. He'd already gone through the day with Lavender pushing him from one place to another and being just a little too clingy. He didn't need Sally-Anne ordering him around.

In contrast to his anger, her demeanor softened.

"I'm just trying to help you," she said softly. "You've had a look about you like you're not sure what's going on anymore, and I'd like to help. I'm not asking you to tell me anything, just offering some friendly advice."

Ron glanced back at the portal, then started walking with Sally-Anne.

"Where's your pack?" Sally-Anne asked.

"Lav hates it when I've got it on," Ron said. "Says it doesn't look right for a man to have a purse."

He glanced at Sally-Anne, awaiting an answer. When she didn't offer one, he turned back to the corridor before them.

"Don't worry about it," Sally-Anne said. "You don't need your pack all the time."

"It helps to have it," Ron said. "With it, I've got everything I'll ever need."

Sally-Anne drew a deep breath. Ron tensed, waiting for a condescending sigh, but none came.

"Every relationship requires some compromise, Ron. How important is it to you to keep your pack with you?"

"With Rose around, very. She's against us now."

Sally-Anne frowned, which didn't surprise Ron. Dumbledore hadn't said explicitly that Rose was against them, but it was obvious to him. Asking to be notified immediately of any encounters, forcing them to learn occlumency from Snape, and keeping the rest of the staff out of the loop all pointed to one thing: Dumbledore wanted them to be on guard against Rose.

"Are you sure?"

Ron explained his reasoning to her as they walked down to the sixth floor.

"That makes sense," Sally-Anne said. "Actually, it makes a lot of sense. How come they haven't told anyone else?"

"That's not my specialty, logic is," he replied. "I'm the chessmaster, remember? You're the people person. I just put things together."

Sally-Anne frowned, deep in thought. Even upset, Sally-Anne still looked nice. When Lavender got upset, she looked dreadful, sort of like a goblin. And her voice turned to a screech. Not like Sally-Anne, who remained dignified at all times.

"I wonder… they might not be sure," Sally-Anne said at last. "If Professor Dumbledore doesn't know she's really against us, he'd avoid saying that until he knew. That way, if there's something bigger going on, he didn't turn us all against Rose on accident."

Ron nodded. That made sense, but everything always made sense when Sally-Anne explained it.

"Anyway," Sally-Anne said, "don't talk about me so much with Lavender. She'll think I'm a threat if you do."

Ron frowned. Why was dating so complicated? What was wrong with talking about female friends? Sally-Anne was just a friend. Was he not allowed to talk about Ginny or Hermione either?

"I'm confused."

"Story of your life when it comes to women, Ronald," Sally-Anne said. "What would you think if I started talking about Draco all the time?"

"Since when are you on a first-name basis with Malfoy?"

"Calm down. Do you see my point? All I had to do was use his first name. Most of the school calls me 'Perks', 'Traitor', or various insults, but you call me 'Sally-Anne'. The more you talk about me, the worse it's going to get, because Lavender will think just what you did right now. She'll wonder why you're so friendly with me, and think she's got a rival. She's the jealous type, it's why she leads you around like that. She's showing you off."

Ron stared blankly into place as his week began to make sense.

"All I'm saying is that maybe you want to take things a little more slowly with her," Sally-Anne said. "And don't mention me at all. Or Hermione. If Lavender brings either of us, just change the subject."

Ron nodded, but he stayed focused on one part of what Sally-Anne had said.

"She's showing me off?"

"Of course she is. What girl in her right mind wouldn't? She's dating Ron Weasley."

Ron turned away so she wouldn't see him blush. It crossed his mind that she might pick up on him doing that, but she hadn't said anything thus far.

"Thank you. For everything."

Sally-Anne smiled her timid smile.

"Think nothing of it. I'm glad I can still help someone."

Hermione walked into Professor Dumbledore's office feeling nervous. Not because she'd been summoned to his office; she was used to that, but because she knew what memory they'd be reviewing that day.

She pulled a silver strand from her head, dropped it into the Pensieve, and they went in after it.

They appeared in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. A line of students formed from a wardrobe, and Professor Lupin stood nearby, laughing and keeping them all moving.

Ron stood at the front of the line, and a spider stood in front of him. Once he took care of it, the next person in line went.

Hermione hadn't noticed before, but Lupin went pale when he saw Rose step up to the wardrobe. He ran at her, but the boggart changed too quickly for him to stop it.

It grew into a large black dragon. Where Hermione would've expected to see confidence, she only saw fear in Rose.

The dragon swept its tail at Lupin, knocking him out cold and hurling him across the room. Students began to panic, but the dragon cut them off from leaving by summoning a swarm of locusts at the door.

<Sk'lar! Shadow! Ali!>

Hermione winced when Rose's voice entered her mind. Her friend had been so scared, she hadn't realized she'd been audible.

The fake Valignatiejir hurled a bolt of acid towards the collected students.

<Help her.>

"That's Reflectesalon," Hermione explained. "He knew—"

Dumbledore held up a hand to keep her silent. His gaze was fixed on the scene before them.

Sally-Anne leapt up and summoned a shield, hoping to protect the students until someone came up with a better plan.

Hermione glanced at Ron. He'd felt horrible about not reacting to help, but at the time, there was so little he could've done. Now he would've animated half the desks into an army and sent them after the dragon, then convinced Harry and Hermione to rush it to confuse it.

Instead, the bolt shattered the shield, and the other Hermione knocked Sally-Anne out of the way before she got hurt.

The memory went fuzzy, and Hermione realized it was because she hadn't been entirely coherent through it. It was a little disorienting at first, fading in and out of existence like that.

"Why did Reflectesalon talk to you?" Dumbledore asked.

"He knew the only one who could stop it was Rose, and the only way to get her to snap out of it was for me to get hurt. It wasn't a great plan, but… she was terrified of Valignatiejir. The possibility that he'd broken through into this world hung over her for years."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at her.

"Reflectesalon is supposed to be her conscience?"

"Sort of. Rose does whatever she wants most of the time, which is what she really wants to be able to do, but Ref keeps her from getting carried away."

Dumbledore nodded.

"I recall her telling me that Reflectesalon was under orders to inform her brother if she did anything of which he'd disapprove. Is there a reason he hasn't done so?"

Hermione frowned and shook her head.

"I don't know. I wish I did, but… I don't know."

The memory faded in and out, until they appeared in the Hospital Wing. Hermione sat on one of the beds while Madame Pomfrey looked over the other Hermione. Then everything faded again, and the other Hermione woke up. Her friends joined her in the Hospital Wing, sans Rose.

As her friends all expressed doubts about Rose, Hermione glared at Perks when her voice joined the fray. Everyone else had doubted Rose, but Hermione should've seen it then that Perks would one day turn her back on them entirely.

Another Dumbledore arrived, making it the first memory that had both of them. He talked some sense into her friends, then let them be to work out where Rose was. The real Dumbledore listened intently to their plan, then they followed the other Hermione as the memory shifted to bring them out of the Hospital Wing.

Hermione blushed as she watched the other Hermione threaten the Twins, but stifled a laugh when she saw how terrified they were of her.

"I must say, I'm impressed with your resourcefulness," Dumbledore said. "Even if you were all technically getting into trouble."

"Wasn't this your plan?" Hermione asked. "That's why you visited us, right? To make sure we were working out where Rose was?"

Dumbledore's silence answered her question.

They followed the other Hermione and one of the Twins down into the Dungeons. The Weasley left, leaving them alone with the other Hermione.

"Professor Snape!"

If Dumbledore didn't know Rose had hidden herself with Snape, Hermione couldn't tell it on his face.

"What do you want, Ms. Granger?"

"That might be the kindest I've ever heard him speak to a student," Dumbledore mused.

"She won't hide in the Room of Requirement because that was the first place we looked, so she'll be somewhere out of the way. Rose wouldn't pick a random classroom because she wouldn't risk a student finding her on accident. Therefore, she'll pick somewhere where people are least likely to go, which is your office."

"Once again, nicely done."

When the other Hermione walked past, Hermione heard Snape mutter "Well done".

"I knew it!" she hissed. "I knew he'd complemented me!"

Dumbledore shot her a look that reminded her that wasn't the point.

They followed the other Hermione to where Rose was sitting in Snape's office. Hermione herself wanted to hold Rose close, to comfort her. She had to settle for watching another girl do it, even if that girl had been her once upon a time.

You've got no idea how good you've got it, she thought of her younger self. Enjoy it while it lasts, because it won't last forever.

Shortly after Snape left, the memory changed, and they appeared outside in the forest. After hearing voices in her head, a crack opened in the air.

Dumbledore straightened up. This was the part for which he'd been waiting.

Four people stood behind the gate Sk'lar had formed. The other Hermione identified each of them in turn.

As the other Hermione and Rose talked with Rose's family, Dumbledore listened, keeping his hand up to prevent Hermione from saying anything. His gaze remained fixed on them, studying every detail.

After the crack closed, it was Hermione's turn to hold up her hand for silence. The memory wasn't finished.

"You want to know its name, right?" Rose asked.

The other Hermione paused for a moment. It felt odd to Hermione that there had been a time when she hadn't known its name.

"Yeah. That's it. You don't have to if you don't want to."

"Valignatiejir."

The word echoed as the memory faded away, and they returned to Dumbledore's office.

"Interesting," Dumbledore said. "They did speak like her, but they didn't seem too much like her to make me think they were illusions she'd created. Like you, I noticed that she was off that year, but after that incident, she was better."

Hermione nodded. She remembered it all too well.

"What do you think?" he asked.

The question caught her off guard. Until then, she'd assumed she was there to provide Dumbledore with memories and information, not opinions.

"I don't—"

"I'm sure you've got an opinion, Ms. Granger."

Hermione had lots of opinions, but most of them were some variation of "Rose is innocent, and Sylvia's not." She doubted that was the answer Professor Dumbledore wanted.

"Erm… I think that was her family. I think what she said about being from another world was true."

"Why?"

���Because she was my friend! Because I saw her in that room with Professor Snape! She was vulnerable, scared! I know what I saw! Rose isn't evil!"

Professor Dumbledore had returned to his desk, and now had his hands folded in front of him. He gazed at he over his half-moon spectacles.

"How old was she?"

Hermione glared at him. She fought to keep her voice level.

"What does it matter?"

"She'll be 25 now."

Hermione froze. In all the time she'd known Rose, she'd never gotten a straight answer about her age. Hermione had always assumed that Rose didn't know how old she was. Even so, eight years felt like more than it should've been. Hermione had always know Rose was older than she seemed, but that was too much.

"How do you know?"

"She told me, after Ref told her."

Hermione fumed at the thought of someone knowing more about Rose than she did.

"What's it matter how old she was?"

"Because you're too attached to her. Try imagining someone of her actual age spending time with you."

Hermione tried to imagine it, but it still didn't feel right. That wasn't who Rose was. Rose was her friend! Maybe they weren't the same age, but that didn't matter! Deep down, they were the same. Two lost girls, different from everyone else, trying to find their way in the world.

Hermione found herself longing for Rose to have stayed with her. At that moment, she felt alone, cut off from everyone else.

"That's not who Rose was. She was my friend, whether you believe it or not. You can't understand—"

"I understand precisely what it feels like to watch a loved one slip away and want desperately to believe that they aren't. I have felt exactly as you do, and my refusal to see the truth cost me dearly. Not to mention the countless lives lost because I refused to believe that my friend had turned."

Dumbledore's words sank in, and Hermione backed down. She didn't know to what he was referring, but it didn't take long to work it out.

"Grindelwald?"

Dumbledore hesitated for a second before nodding.

"Gellert Grindelwald was my closest friend for a time. I am responsible for his rise to power. I have said before: I will not allow you to repeat my mistakes. The longer you deny that Rose has turned on us, the harder it will be to stop her."

"I'll… erm… I don't know."

When she met Dumbledore's gaze, it was more stern than she'd ever seen it. There was no laid back old man. This was a man who'd made countless mistakes and knew the full weight of them. She couldn't bear that look. It only made her more confused.

"I'm…"

"There is a terrible burden on your shoulders, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore said without breaking his gaze. "I can see that you're not ready to bear it."

Some instinct in Hermione told her to argue that, but she kept her mouth shut.

"If I could help you, I would, but there is information in your head that no one else has. Not to mention, your mind is unique."

"I… I don't know what to do."

Dumbledore stared her down for a moment, then eased up. Without a word, he motioned to the door. She gladly took his invitation to leave.

Before she left his office, he gave her one last piece of advice.

"Remember: We are not fighting the friend in your memories. We are fighting what she became."