Hp: Hermione and Darkness

An Ordinary Wizarding Level (often abbreviated O.W.L.) was a series of subject-specific standardised tests taken during Hogwarts students' fifth year. These exams were administered by the Wizarding Examinations Authority and had been around since at least the late 1800s. Each subject had its own O.W.L. exam. The score achieved by a student on a particular O.W.L. determined whether or not that student would be allowed to continue studying in the more advanced classes of that subject in their sixth and seventh years. If students did not score high enough on a subject's O.W.L., they would no longer be allowed to take that class. Exam scores also determined what job a student could have after graduating from Hogwarts.

Needless to say, Hermione was terrified.

"Never mind," Ginny laughed. "Your face just went greener than a Slytherin's robes. I got my answer."

"How can I not be?" Hermione asked. "They basically will determine the rest of my life."

"If you need help studying this year, I don't mind helping," Ginny said.

"Thank you!" Hermione said, honestly touched. That was a perfect example of why Ginny was her best friend - instead of saying something like, "You'll probably just get 'Outstanding' on all of them," Ginny instinctively knew how unhelpful that was. Flattery doesn't help you get good grades.

"Hurry up, you two, or there won't be any food left," Mrs Weasley called to Harry and Sirius. Hermione and Ginny continued their small talk while Harry and Sirius got the last of the sandwiches (much to Ron's dismay).

The afternoon chore was cleaning out the glass-fronted cabinets. Many of the objects there seemed reluctant to leave their dusty shelves. Sirius sustained a nasty bite from a silver snuffbox; within seconds, his bitten hand developed an unpleasant crusty covering like a tough brown glove.

"It's okay," he said, examining the hand with interest before tapping it lightly with his wand and restoring its skin to normal. "Must be Wartcap powder in there."

They found an unpleasant-looking silver instrument, something like a many-legged pair of tweezers, Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy, a musical box that emitted a faintly sinister, tinkling tune when wound, and they all found themselves becoming curiously weak and sleepy until Ginny had the sense to slam the lid shut; a heavy locket that none of them could open; several ancient seals; and, in a dusty box, an Order of Merlin, First Class, that had been awarded to Sirius's grandfather for "services to the Ministry."

"It means he gave them a load of gold," said Sirius contemptuously, throwing the medal into the rubbish sack.

Several times, Kreacher sidled into the room and attempted to save different things from the sack that clearly had sentimental value for the poor elf. When Sirius wrested a large golden ring bearing the Black crest from his grip, Kreacher burst into furious tears and left the room sobbing under his breath and calling Sirius names Hermione had never heard before. Hermione wanted to join in on the cursing.

"It was my father's," said Sirius, throwing the ring into the sack. "Kreacher wasn't quite as devoted to him as to my mother, but I still caught him snogging a pair of my father's old trousers last week."

Mrs Weasley kept them all working hard over the next few days. The drawing room took three days to decontaminate. Finally, the only undesirable things left were the tapestry of the Black family tree, which resisted all attempts to remove it from the wall, and the rattling writing desk. Moody had not dropped by Headquarters yet, so they couldn't be sure what was inside it.

They moved from the drawing room to a dining room on the ground floor, where they found spiders as large as saucers lurking in the dresser. Ron hurriedly left the room to make a cup of tea and returned after an hour and a half. Sirius threw the china, which bore the Black crest and motto, unceremoniously into a sack, and the same fate met a set of old photographs in tarnished silver frames. All of the occupants squealed shrilly as the glass covering them smashed.

Life at the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black continued the same way for the rest of the summer. The only exciting, out-of-the-ordinary happening was when Professor McGonagall attended one of the Order of the Phoenix meetings.

"Professor McGonagall!" Hermione exclaimed, running to greet her favourite professor.

"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall smiled. "Having a good summer holiday, I trust?"

"Yes, ma'am," Hermione said. "I wanted to ask you, do you happen to know when we will be getting our Hogwarts Letters? I was hoping to find out what books I'll need and…" Hermione paused pointedly. "...and if there was anything else I should prepare for." She was confident Professor McGonagall understood the implication: Hermione wanted to know if she had been selected as Gryffindor Prefect.

"You should be receiving them soon," Professor McGonagall said. Hermione searched her face for any indication or hint but saw none. Her heart sank. Maybe she didn't get it?

"Oh, okay," Hermione said. "Thanks, Professor."

"Of course, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said. "I look forward to working more closely with you this year," she added with a brief flick of her eye that could be construed as a wink. Hermione's heart quickened with a flash of hope. Maybe she would be prefect after all.

A few days later, at dinner, Mrs Weasley turned to Harry and said quietly, "I've ironed your best clothes for tomorrow morning, Harry, and I want you to wash your hair tonight, too. A good first impression can work wonders."

Hermione, Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny stopped talking and looked at Harry. He nodded and tried to keep eating his food, but Hermione could see the tension in his eyes and the stiffness in his shoulders. His nerves were clearly on edge.

"How am I getting there?" Harry asked Mrs Weasley, his voice tinged with anxiety.

"Arthur's taking you to work with him," Mrs Weasley said gently.

Mr Weasley smiled encouragingly at Harry from across the table. "You can wait in my office until it's time for the hearing," he said.

Harry glanced over at Sirius, and before he could voice the question that was clearly on his mind, Mrs Weasley preemptively answered it.

"Professor Dumbledore doesn't think it's a good idea for Sirius to go with you, and I must say I-"

"-think he's quite right," Sirius interjected through clenched teeth.

Mrs Weasley pursed her lips.

"When did Dumbledore tell you that?" Harry asked, staring intently at Sirius.

"He came last night when you were in bed," said Mr Weasley.

Harry looked as surprised as Hermione felt. She had been up most of the night with her nightmares but had no idea the headmaster had come to Headquarters. It seemed odd to her that the headmaster had not taken the opportunity to see Harry, especially the night before such an important hearing. The weight of this realisation made Hermione feel a deep sense of unease. She watched Harry's expression shift from surprise to a mixture of hurt and confusion.

Sensing the need to shift the mood, Hermione gently said, "You'll be fine, Harry. Just remember, we're all behind you."

Harry gave her a weak smile, but she could still see the worry in his eyes. The room fell into a contemplative silence, the air thick with unspoken fears and anxieties. As dinner continued, the weight of the upcoming hearing loomed over them all, casting a shadow on their otherwise warm gathering.

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