Chapter Text
"RAVENCLAW!"
The Sorting Hat shouted out as the inhabitants of the blue and bronze decorated table stood up and cheered for the newest addition to their house.
The teachers clapped gingerly at the declaration, Professor Flitwick a bit louder than the others. They were seated above the students at their usual longtable, overlooking the newly renovated Great Hall. Hogwarts had been nothing more than a pile of ruins by the end of May, and had even been used as a makeshift hospital for a short time because of the sudden overflow in patients. Over the summer, as the deceased were removed and properly buried, and the last few patients were found beds in volunteering hospitals all over Europe, Hogwarts had emptied out; and by mid-June the new Headmistress was intent on readying Hogwarts for students by the 1st of September.
They had just won the Second Wizarding War –hopefully the last one for many millennia to come– and before any trials or politics, came the matter of education. And so, the newly-minted Headmistress McGonagall set forth an initiative to restore the castle to its former glory –and judging by the star-studded reviews of the castle grounds posted in the Daily Prophet a mere fortnight ago, her success had been proven, indeed.
Hogwarts was positively glowing; with the enchanted roof and the newly oiled staircases, as well as 3 new towers and a clean owlery at long last, it had been readier than ever to house the next generation of wizards.
Many valuable members of staff, as well as insurmountable numbers of students had lost their life on these very grounds, and even though the castle had seemed to forget, their Headmistress surely did not, as new portraits of every single soul fallen now had their own favorite frame placed upon the walls.
Professor Dumbledore had vehemently opposed the mere idea of portraits in the Great Hall, but true to Dumbledore fashion, had asked for his frame to be placed right behind the Great Lectern anyway. He was nowhere to be seen now, probably jumping between other portraits of his in god knows what country. Professor McGonagall took his newly noted absence as a sign to start the introductions at last now that the sorting was done, rising and clinking her glass three times to get everyone’s attention.
"Good evening, students, and welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"
A round of applause broke out, loudest from the Gryffindor Table, as expected from her returning students.
"As your Headmistress, I would like to give my greetings to our new first years, and welcome back our old students with open arms. An amazing year of magical education awaits you!”
The barely-there chatter had now completely died down, everyone listening intently as the Headmistress spoke.
"Students, as you were made aware prior to your arrival, for this year and this year only, we have introduced an Eighth Year at Hogwarts, for all wishing to still sit their NEWTs. We have many changes in the curriculum that I personally believe you as the student body will appreciate, as well as some –sadly necessary– staff replacements.”
All of the students were buried into a solemn mood at the mention of the loss, all the while listening to McGonagall. One could hear a pin drop.
"During the war, as I'm aware most of you witnessed firsthand, the castle was wrecked and turned into ruins.
But over the summer, we managed to restore the castle back to tip top shape."
Hermione, Ron and Harry made sure not to look anywhere other than the professor, because by no doubt, the three of them were being stared at. That seemed to happen these days, and while Ron usually basked in it, even he wasn’t in the mood tonight.
"But after all, it is just a castle.
The loss each and every one of you have suffered is tremendous, and our wounds are still fresh. A castle is nothing compared to the fallen witches and wizards. A castle can be rebuilt, but grief is trickier."
A few sniffles were heard around the Hall, as Ron started picking on the raw skin around his nails again.
“Mate.” Harry warned, but Ron only flipped him off. Hermione made do by taking both of his hands into hers, and resting her head on his shoulder, effectively stopping him. He kissed the top of her head as a thank you.
"I will not pour salt on our wounds by announcing one by one the names of our losses. I would like instead for us to take a moment of silence for these brave souls and everything that they stood for. It is only thanks to their sacrifices that the light has been able to prevail."
The hall was completely silent for what felt like eternity. The war had taken its toll on everyone, even the aristocrats of the Slytherin table; with most of their parents either awaiting trial or already in Azkaban, if not already dead, murdered at the very hands of Voldemort.
Professor McGonagall gazed over all of the students, and felt the tears rush to her eyes at the droplets adorning her students’ cheeks.
She spoke up at last, composing herself.
"Thank you all.” A deep breath, and with a soft sigh, Minerva McGonagall was back to usual.
“Well, now that we have our new batch of first years sorted into their houses,"
She smiled politely. The hall had now regained its liveliness, although listening to her all the same.
"I would like all students years 1 through 4 to be escorted to their dorms and get a good night's sleep. Your house Prefects will pass out the class schedules tomorrow at half past 7 in your common rooms."
As Hagrid led the younger years to their dormitories, a hum rose throughout the Hall, the rest of the students wondering what was going on. This had never happened before.
McGonagall cleared her throat and started talking again, not having to silence the hall, as the students were curious enough to quiet down on their own.
"I’m sure you are wondering why I sent the younger students away with Hagrid instead of the House Prefects, and also why you are all still here.
First and foremost, I would like to begin by asking for all of you to be a good influence on them, especially the doubled First Year class. Most of you fought valiantly in the war, at such an age where you should have only been concerned about schoolwork and not the threats of a curse to the back. Still, the war has taught you survival, teamwork, and woven into your minds that Houses do not matter in the face of hard times, and unlikely friendships are oftentimes the strongest bonds we form. I am both incredibly sorry and elated that you’ve received these lessons at such a young age. But now it is time for you to pass it along.”
She smiled widely at all of her students, the elder witch brimming with again-found hope, but even as she did so, her eyes could not help but scan the hall for a head of sleek-blonde hair.
"In summary, I merely ask for all students to not discriminate and to be kind." She continued, trying to be discreet.
Hermione was dissociating, having already had trouble finding it within herself to care about silly little school rivalries or House points. Instead, already lost in her thoughts, the tip of her finger slowly grazed over the horrendous scar on her right forearm. Bellatrix had hexed her wound so that it would never fully heal.
Harry noticed Hermione's gaze having long since drifted and the pad of her thumb tracing her scar slowly. He scooted closer to her and shook her out of the trance she was in, hugging her shortly thereafter.
"Mione, you're ok. It's ok, you're at Hogwarts with us, all of us. Look around you."
She snapped back to reality, nodding her thanks to Harry, and kept listening to McGonagall as if nothing just happened.
"...Especially to those of us whose stories were likely to have been twisted by the press or otherwise."
Professor McGonagall was almost on her tiptoes, openly looking for a glimpse of the blonde Slytherin, but to no avail.
All eyes were on the Slytherin table now, following their Headmistress’ gaze, curious. Hermione was still scratching her scar wildly, waiting for Professor McGonagall to change the subject at once, back into her trance. She was the only person who wasn't looking at the silver and green bannered table but straight ahead, not blinking. Thankfully, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat again and all eyes landed on her.
"Well, I suppose it is now time to appoint the new prefects of each house! Traditionally, we are to elect new Prefects every year, but seeing as we are shorter on students this year, the directory board has decided that it would be fitting to name only a few new students and re-badge some of the previous prefects."
The Great Hall broke into a playful buzz, with people fighting over who would become a prefect and others laughing at the complete idiocy of the competitive spirit. McGonagall let them be for the time being, smiling at the antics of the students, until she finally tapped her wand on the Lectern twice and everybody remembered the Headmistress was about to reveal the names.
"From Hufflepuff House, Hannah Abbot and Ernie McMillan!"
The two Hufflepuffs went up to receive their badges as the black and gold table cheered in delight.
"From Ravenclaw House, Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein!"
Padma took out her existing Prefect badge and put it on whilst Anthony received one from Professor Flitwick. The Ravenclaws chanted their motto as support.
"From Slytherin, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini!"
The Slytherins were happy for their own, and Blaise got his own badge from Professor Slughorn while Pansy took out the one she had acquired in her fifth year.
"And lastly, from Gryffindor, Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter!"
The Gryffindors got up to celebrate and patted both of them on the back as they went up to where McGonagall stood. Cheers were heard all around, seeing as Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were equally as happy.
As the entirety of the Gryffindor table stood up and broke into whistles and claps, making the usual Gryffindor commotion, Hermione Granger was the only one not up on her feet and whistling or clapping. She only watched with distant eyes as the ceremony went on, finally plastering on a smile as her friends came into view, back from receiving their badges. She hugged and congratulated the couple softly. After they sat down together and started chatting away animatedly, without a care for the entirety of the student body and staff watching them, Ron plopped back down next to Hermione and put his arm on her shoulder, pecking her cheek.
"Mione, you're already a prefect. You have been a prefect for 3 years now, it’s not this big of a deal."
"What are you talking about, Ronald?"
She was getting antsy and he could tell he was in trouble. She had used his full name.
"All I'm saying is, not getting the re-badged is completely normal."
"Honestly, Ron, I'm not even sure I want the first one anymore." She uttered. Ron only laughed and pecked her on the cheek gingerly.
"Whatever you say, Mione. But just don’t beat yourself up over it, eh?"
She supposed it was only normal that her boyfriend hadn’t taken her seriously.
An academically gifted girl all her life, nose always in one book or the other, coming into a new magical world and being top of her class. Everyone had always expected the very most from her.
I wouldn’t have believed myself either.
"Guys, stop bickering and listen to McGonagall. She's announcing the Head students."
Hermione quickly cleared her head at Seamus’ words, turning towards McGonagall's direction, trying to listen.
"Now that our prefects have been appointed, it is time you know about some changes to the school."
She raised her voice to make sure everybody heard.
"As is tradition, a meeting will be held by the Head Girl and Boy, where they will decide whether the Prefects of this year will have the power to deduct points. The power to award solely remains with the Head Boy and Girl and will not be debated upon. Patrols will be done in two’s every night, with the exception of common rooms, as the two Prefects of a House are the ones solely responsible for their own common rooms. Passwords of other Houses shall not be shared with Prefects, with the exception of Head Boy and Girl, who will have blanket access to any and every nook in Hogwarts.
Lastly, Head Boy and Girl will, as always, have their own 2-person dormitory, complete with a common room.”
McGonagall cleared her throat, not even hiding her long glance at Hermione.
She was so fucked.
“And, lastly, which I'm positive won't happen, Head Boy and Girl cannot take points off of each other. Professor Flitwick will place charms for extra safety."
Professor McGonagall had told everyone the rules, but there was one detail missing: The names.
As everyone had processed the information and started wondering again who the two may be, the Headmistress quieted them down with a flick of her wand and a wave of her hand.
“Who do you reckon it’ll be, lads?” Dean was now whispering amongst the Gryffindor Seventh and Eighth Years, whereas Seamus was unabashedly collecting bets.
“Seamus…” Harry warned him to not make too much noise, but the boy didn’t care. Ginny only laughed and with a reassuring hand on Harry’s arm,
“Ok Finnigan, I’ll bite. One sickle says Head Boy’s not Harry.” Ginny said with a glint in her eye and an outstretched hand. Seamus gladly shook it.
“Oh you’re so on, there’s no way the Chosen One isn’t Head Boy.”
"Hey! I could be Head Boy too!" Ron butted into the conversation, prompting a laugh from everyone.
“What? Am I not worthy enough for you lot?”
Hermione took Ron by the sleeve and before he could get wrongly angry, uttered.
"You’re missing 2 credits, even for pre-qualification, Ron.”
“Oh.”
And with that, Ron cleared his throat and announced to the table.
“Alright then, a galleon says my girlfriend is Head Girl!” He bellowed proudly, wrapping an arm around Hermione and gathering all the attention, which in turn made Hermione grimace and squirm.
She’d had enough time in the limelight.
She didn’t want this, no, not at all.
“I don’t think anyone would take that offer up, mate. Hermione’s been guaranteed the position since Third Year.” Neville quipped, the entire table agreeing.
“Oi Head Girl, who do you reckon you’ll be sharing the dorm with, then? Surely you’ve done all the calculations.”
And Hermione had done all the calculations, at the very beginning of Sixth Year, ending up with a misfortunate name, at least for herself. But everything had changed, and even if the Headmistress were to take the traditional calculations into account,
He wasn’t here. And he wouldn’t be.
She shrugged. “I didn’t give it much thought, perhaps Zabini?”
"A Slytherin?" Ron gaped.
“He has the marks for it, and McGonagall’s been droning about inter-house unity for the past hour.”
“I don’t want you sharing a dorm with that git.” Ron gritted out through his teeth, prompting Hermione to roll her eyes.
“Then let’s hope I’m not the bloody Head Girl, Ronald. Merlin knows I don’t need the extra responsibility.” She hissed, not giving Ron any time to reiterate before Ginny cut in with,
"Hey, listen up, she's announcing the names."
Hermione, without another glance at Ron’s confused face, turned her attention to the Headmistress and waited patiently, praying she wouldn't get picked.
"Students, please applaud for our Head Girl," Professor McGonagall couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she talked.
“The Brightest Witch of Her Age, Hermione Granger!"
Almost everybody in the hall got up and clapped their hands wildly as Hermione was smothered with many hugs and congratulations. Professor McGonagall reached out a hand to her, inviting her to the stage in front of the teachers' table.
Truthfully, she had been expecting it. Everyone had been expecting it, and she supposed she had acted somewhat of an idiot by not talking to Minerva beforehand to withdraw herself from consideration.
And now it was too late.
If she were in the Headmistress’ position, she would choose herself too. She could not blame the elderly woman who now looked at her with too much pride in her eyes.
It was too late.
The message to the Wizarding World had already been sent by the single announcement: Hermione Granger was back.
Everyone depended on her yet again.
And so, she did the only thing she could do. She plastered a tight smile onto her face, Occluded the thoughts rooting her to her seat, and gingerly got up, accepting the hugs and back pats from her friends all around.
Ron cleared everyone away and escorted her to the very front of the table.
"Go get 'em, babe." He whispered in her ear as he left a quick peck on her cheek, and she was suddenly all alone in a Hall swarming with students.
Occlude.
It took her two deep breaths before her eyes were glazing over again, and she smiled widely at the Headmistress waiting for her on the podium, before finally taking the few steps up to receive the badge she had previously lusted over.
She didn’t want to be here.
Professor McGonagall had happy tears in her eyes.
She widened her smile.
The woman hugged her tightly.
"Oh, we’re all so very proud of you, Miss Granger."
"Thank you Headmistress."
Soon, the woman had let go and Hermione remained standing there, next to the Headmistress, waiting to hear who Head Boy was, eagerly waiting for this to be over.
She revisited her old list, and prayed to all the gods out there to not to have to share a dorm with Harry. She briefly wondered if McGonagall would forgo academic achievement in honor of the war heroes she now hosted at her school, but quickly decided against it. Minerva McGonagall had style, and she was all the merrier if she could send a message, but above all, she was an educator. She would not, under any circumstance, bestow Head duty on any student she thought would diminish under the responsibility academically, which meant Ron and Neville would also not be considered.
Maybe she had been right in her uncalled-for educated guess, maybe the Zabini heir would accompany her in her new position.