Atoning

"You all right now?" Draco asked.

"I'm never all right, haven't you learned that by now?" I teased. "But, yes, I'm a bit better."

"So when's the next lesson?" Luna asked.

"We're sticking to the original schedule," I answered. "We don't even have to rearrange things so I can still make it to detention." At Susan's querying look, I said, "McGonagall got them canceled. She managed to make Umbridge transfer them to another teacher-her-and she said to just show up, tell her how things are going, and then leave. Ten minutes, tops." I sighed. "I love them. I love them all."

"Sure you're all right?" Draco asked. "That doesn't sound like you at all."

"I'll live."

* * *
"So, Hermione, how are you feeling today?"

I groaned aloud. They had given me back to the perky, chirping, annoying, literal therapist.

"I'm fine," I said nicely, "but I have a question. Where's the space between therapist and the rapist?"

"Excuse me?" she asked, her megawatt smile slipping a few degrees.

"Never mind. So what's new with you?"

"We're here to talk about you?"

"Really now?" I said. "Last I checked, I was here to learn to deal with issues."

"It's-I don't-" she faltered.

I smiled and gave an evil chuckle internally. This was going to be fun.

* * *
"What are you so happy about, Hermione?" Hannah asked, bemused.

"Just screwed a therapist up a bit."

"What did you do?" Ginevra asked forebodingly.

"I just asked what space there was between a therapist and the rapist. Nothing special," I said innocently.

"You are one evil girl," she said.

"I know. Meditation time. I hope everyone kept up with it over the summer."

With a minimum of complaints, they settled into their spaces. After half an hour, I murmured, "All right, listen up. This is quite a bit different from what we've been doing. We're going to go back to the basics-putting our minds into animals-only this time, we're going to be controlling them."

"How is this different from what we've been doing, though?" Luna asked.

"Before, we'd only been asking them to do things. Negotiating with them, so to speak. Now, we'll be making them do things."

"But that's cruel!" Potter objected.

"Think about it this way," I told him. If you're fighting someone-and I mean really fighting them, not regulation dueling-you're not going to have time to be asking animals nicely for their cooperation. When you're in a real fight, all that matters is getting out alive. That means using everything you can. That means fighting dirty. You can Legilimize them, you can force animals to distract them, you can drag them down to your level or just obliterate them. Because, in the end, fighting dirty is what will save your life. You don't have to force animals all the time. You can still ask them. But asking takes time, and in a duel, that's the one thing you don't have. Comprende?"

"Comprende," he muttered.

"Comprendo," I corrected.

"What?"

"I comprende, you comprendo."

"Comprendo," he said sullenly.

"Good. Everyone else understand?"

"Yeah," they mumbled.

"Good," I said cheerfully. "Now, let's go back to flobberworms for this first time . . ."

Once our two hours were up, I dismissed them. Once I had finished cleaning up, I went to my room, yawning. I was asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.

My dreams that night were strange-stranger than usual. Where I usually had one dream a night, occasionally two, I had seven. Seven dreams of the smell of charred flesh, of the bloody rooms left behind, of the anger I felt, of the bloody roses.

One other thing made those dreams different-I was in a fight. I fought men and women in black robes, spellfire singeing my robes and leaving me gasping for breath.

Pain woke me when a spell hit my rib, but the dream didn't end. I was awake-or I thought I was-but the spells kept coming. One of them flipped me onto my back, cracking my head on the linoleum.

Oh my God, I thought, shocked. This isn't a dream. This is real. This is happening. They're trying to kill me.

My confusion turned into anger. How dare they? How dare they attack me?

I flipped to my feet with a grace that surprised myself and fought back, not bothering with my wand, which had flown out of my hand when I was knocked down. Instead, I began to burn their robes, distracting them for a long enough time that I could call the wood subfloor to life, twining the trunks around their legs and effectively trapping them.

The wall behind me burst apart, throwing me to the ground for the second time in as many minutes. I turned to face the newest wave of invaders, to be greeted by the red robes of Aurors. They came rushing through, then stopped, apparently befuddled by the scene. I could only imagine what they must be seeing. Trees growing in the middle of-was it an entrance hall? Yes, I now saw, it was an entrance hall-with black-robed and white-masked men and women trapped in the growing trunks while I was on my back, trying to catch my breath.

I rolled slowly onto my hands and knees, trying to catch my breath. My hair fell down around me, and a single bloodstained rose fell from my pocket.

I stared at it, stupefied. What the hell? Where had that come from? What was the symbol of Rose doing in my hair?

Things began coming together for me. The tiredness, the dreams, the odd bruises I'd found . . .

"No," I whispered. "I can't be . . ."

"On your feet!"

The voice snapped my head up. I looked at the Aurors, surrounding me with their wands out. I reached up to touch my face and found it concealed by a mask, and my voice, when I spoke, was not my own.

"Now do you believe that Voldemort has returned?" I asked. My voice was guttural, like a chain smoker's, and nearly as hard to understand. "Look at their arms. They will all have Dark Marks. Remember, I am helping you."

I Displaced, certain that I was leaving them with no idea what was happening. I should not have been able to Disapparate, I knew, since they would have put up anti-Disapparition wards up before they had come in.

I reappeared in my room. I ripped the mask off my face and changed into my nightgown from my bloody robes, then collapsed onto my bed.

What had just happened? I'd been asleep, then I'd been awake, then nothing made any sense.

Had I snapped again? Was that all this was? Was me going even more round the twist the only thing that was going on? I hoped that was all it was.

Regardless, I decided to talk to Snape in the morning. He would know what to do.

I hoped.

***

"Professor?" I said nervously during break the next morning.

"Yes, Hermione?" he asked, sorting ingredients on the shelves around his desk.

"Can-can I talk to you?" I asked, trying to get into it before my nerves won out and I made a lame excuse and walked away.

He turned to face me, his characteristic scowl on his face. Then he saw my expression, and he softened. "Of course."

I came into his office proper and perched nervously on the edge of a chair. He sat across from me and waited.

I took a deep breath. "I-I think I might be the Rose," I said quietly.

His eyebrows snapped together. "Explain," he ordered.

I launched into the events of the past few months-of me not sleeping well, of my horrifying dreams, and of the terrifying revelation of last night. He sat quietly and attentively through it all, not interrupting once, until I was through. When I was finished, he sat back in his chair and gazed at me thoughtfully.

"I think," he said at last, "we had better go see the Headmaster."

My tripes turned to jelly. My traitorous body followed him obediently, though my knees were weak and my entire body was shaking. How was I supposed to explain to Dumbledore I was becoming a major danger?

***

I knew it, I thought, pacing back and forth. I knew it.

I shot a glare at Snape. Why hadn't he seen this coming?

Snape was obviously off-balance. His eyes were narrowed at the old man, and his mouth was slightly open. Had I not known the reason behind it, his expression would have been comical.

"You're joking, Albus," he said blankly.

"I assure you, Severus, that I am perfectly serious."

"You want to use her as an assassin? Albus, please . . . think about this!"

"I have. Hermione's skills could very well turn the tide in our favor."

"And what about her? What happens to her, Albus, if she gets caught? Will you protect her then? Or will you turn your back and let her take the fall for following your orders?"

"I have no intention of letting any harm befall her, Severus."

"And her killing Death Eaters isn't fraught with risk?"

"Not to the extent you are suggesting," Albus said mildly. "She has already proven that she can kill and escape silently, without raising suspicion."

"And after the war?" I said coldly. "Professor, it's already an uphill battle to keep myself human. You want to push me further towards what you want to exterminate?"

"She's underage, too," Severus added.

"Hermione is legally an adult. She's qite capable of making her own decisions, Severus-"

"And she has made her opinion known!"

"Professors," I said quietly. "I know people are dying. I want to help. I want to do what I can-but I can't compromise my humanity."

"You won't be," Dumbledore said. "You can store the memories in my Pensieve-"

"And if someone gets ahold of it, or faceplants without thought?"

"There are protections on it, Hermione. Nobody will ever see the memories unless you wish them to."

My resistance weakened. If I could help . . . if I could keep others from dying . . .

"You still want me to kill people," I whispered.

"You would be saving more lives than you'd take. Think about it-those people are Death Eaters. They would torture and kill innocents without a second thought."

I stopped my pacing and looked at him. "You'd better think long and hard, sir, and make sure this is what you want," I told him. "If I agree to this, there's very little that can stop me."

"Hermione, no!" Snape cried. "You can't honestly be giving such a preposterous notion any consideration!"

"Professor," I said softly, "I have already killed. I have maimed, I have tortured, I have failed to help where I could. If this will help, how can I refuse?"

"At least sleep on it," he begged.

"I was planning on it," I replied. "Professor Dumbledore, if it is all right with you, I will come back tomorrow night. You will tell me if you think it is worth it, and I will tell you my decision."

"How about seven?" Dumbledore suggested.

I nodded. "Very well. If you will excuse me, I have a class to get to."

"Have a nice day, Hermione," Dumbledore said.

"Hermione," Snape said quietly. "Think very carefully."

"I will. Good day, Professors." I turned and left the room.