"So you're saying occulemency can help protect my dreams? From the Dark Lord and you?" Millie asked over the sound of the shower.

Hermione spat out a glob of toothpaste, "That's my understanding."

After a sleepless night, the Slytherins had drifted apart in the morning with Hermione's promise to stay awake if they needed to nap. The comradery from the previous morning seemed like a distant dream as this day dawned. Only Millicent had followed Hermione back to their dorm to freshen up.

"Do you think if I practice really hard I'll be able to- oh hell-" Millie's question trailed off into a string of curses.

"What's wrong?"

"I ran out of shampoo."

Hermione let out a slow breath, forcing her hand to unclasp from her forearm.

"Borrow mine," Hermione offered, glad to be able to relate on such a light-hearted issue. Even with the future of her friend's and the weight of the mark on her arm, an empty shampoo bottle was still a problem.

"No- but thanks- it's specially imported. Part of some hair potion regime from America that Mum ordered me." Millie grumbled, "Damn it- and I already put in the first step-"

"I'll grab it for you." Hermione rinsed off her toothbrush and put it back in her basket.

"Thanks-" Millie's voice was tight with relief. Six years of living in the same dorm and the girl still refused to either enter or exit the bathroom in anything less than her full uniform. Quite a contrast to the other Slytherins who early on decided that bathrobes were optional. "It's in the strong box under my bed- just bring the whole thing-"

Hermione didn't hear the rest of the sentence as she made a beeline for Millie's four poster. The Slytherin girls had early on learned that keeping strictly demarcated zones in their dorm prevented the hell of grudges, arguments, and lost items. So Hermione's books and makeup stayed stacked around her bed while Tracy's messiness existed only in the regulated confines of her bed.

Millie's space was clean to the point of spartan and Hermione quickly found the box. She flicked open the lid and pulled out the extra shampoo bottle.

"Here you go-" She passed Millie the bottle, averting her eyes.

"Thanks-" Millie grabbed it and then dropped it. The bottle bounced off the tile and Hermione looked up in astonishment. Millie was staring at her.

"Hermione?" Her voice sounded strange, "Where did you find this?"

"In your box- the iron one?" Hermione said, "What's wrong."

"The box under the bed?"

"Yes?" Hermione said anxiety gnawed at her stomach. "Millie, what's going on?"

"Hermione- that was a Bulstrode strongbox." The water turned off and Millicent peered out from behind the curtain. "No one's supposed to be able to open that, except for a Bulstrode. Ever."

Hermione bit off a curse.

. . . . . . .

"So… family wards don't work against Hermione."

Draco collapsed back in his chair and ran a shaking hand through his hair. The rest of them sat around the boy's dorm in various states of shock and apprehension.

Hermione glanced down at the open strongbox and fought the urge to bury her face in her hands. After this latest discovery, Millicent had insisted that they tell everyone immediately. Dreams were bad enough, but family magic? That was serious.

Daphne suddenly stood up.

"Wait here." She instructed in a tight voice and ran out of the dorm. The other Slytherins glanced between themselves and settled into more comfortable positions.

"Vince, are you ok?" She asked instead. The boy grimaced and glanced down at his burnt hand.

"Fine." He muttered.

When Hermione had first brought in the hastily emptied iron box, they had been unwilling to believe the story. Family magic was old magic- deep magic. Maybe Millicent hadn't locked it properly. Or the wards had faded over time. Vincent had volunteered to try himself. The box had seemed tiny in his hand, but he had bellowed and dropped it as soon as he flipped the latch. A square burn was etched into his palms.

Millicent looked uncomfortable, "You owe me a debt, by the way." She muttered, "For trying to open it. Forgot to tell you. I'll ask you to get me coffee at dinner or something." Crabbe nodded and flexed his hand with a grimace.

Daphne returned holding a thin, leather-bound book in her hand. Hermione recognized it immediately as Greengrass' diary.

"Oh- Daph-"

"Open it," Daphne demanded, thrusting the book at Hermione, "You have to open it."

Hermione sighed and took the journal. It gave a small shiver of magic as she unwrapped the cords from around the cover and flipped it open to the first page. She closed it quickly before anyone could read Daphne's thoughts.

Pansy exhaled in a quick laugh. "That's the one I gave you for your birthday last year, right?"

"Yes," Daphne gave a tight nod, "It's blood warded to me. Only me. No one should have been able to open it – except-" Her voice trailed off into a waver.

Hermione shut her eyes tightly enough to see stars. "I will swear an oath on my magic-" She promised hollowly, "I know that none of you want this. So I'll promise to-"

"To what?" Draco demanded angrily, "To never enter our homes? To never take advantage of our family's magic? That's impossible. I don't even know how to begin separating my magic from my families. Do you?" He demanded.

The others shook their heads. Hermione was once again struck by how pervasive the importance of family was in their world. In the eyes of the law and magic, Draco was a Malfoy first, himself second. His only goal in the course of his life was to continue the family name and then, secondly, fulfill any other needs his family made of him. To be disinherited was to lose your greater sense of self. To come from an unknown family was worse than being orphaned.

And by pledging himself to Hermione, for better or worse, he had pledged the entire Malfoy line and all the magic and rights that went with that. Hermione closed her eyes briefly as the weight of the realization settled in.

The truth revealed itself to some faster than others.

"I need this off." Daphne thrust her marked arm towards Hermione with desperate insistence, "I need this off now. Hermione. Please."

Hermione raised her head. The question had been inevitable of course. Sooner or later someone was going to regret their pact. It was just that Hermione had thought she'd been ready to answer, "Daphne, That's now how this works."

"No. You have to. Don't you understand? You have to-" Daphne's voice spiraled into a shriek, "I can't- I literally can't have you – there are things that the Greengrasses- no one is allowed to know or to- to –to-" The girl broke off into a wordless wail as she clutched at her hair.

Pansy slapped her, hard enough to make the girl fall over. "Sorry Granger," Pansy said stiffly as she helped her friend to her feet. "I'm going to take her to lay down."

For a moment, no one spoke.

Finally, Theo broke the silence. "Does this mean that the Dark Lord had access to all our family's estates?"

. . . . . . . .

Two hours of research later left each of them disgusted and disturbed.

"So, you're telling me," Tracy spread her hands over the piles of parchment and newspapers, "The Dark Lord basically had access to an actual percentage of Britain's Wizarding GDP?"

"And the associated lands, artifacts, libraries, and sundry goods," Millie added leaning back in her chair to rub the bridge of her nose. She had proven invaluable in her knowledge of the various holdings of the Dark Pureblood families.

Hermione had never actually seen the accounts listed out so clearly and was astounded at how much raw potential power the Pureblood families still held. It seemed like the Ministry was everywhere, but there were huge tracts of land and magic still outside of their control.

"And he still lost the war?" Tracy barked out a laugh, "What a wanker."

"He was up against both the ministry and Dumbledore," Draco frowned at her, "The Ministry which has established popular support, centuries of accumulated stolen knowledge-"

"And the Department of Mysteries," Theo added moodily, pushing a scrap of paper around the table with a finger, "That's a huge known unknown for us."

Hermione sighed and pushed the appearance of a budding headache away. "True. The ministry has incredible holdings. So does the Dark Lord. So does Dumbledore even-" She picked up the small list they had compiled of Light families that Dumbledore had in his pocket. It was the most incomplete but still considerable.

"Comparatively, we have…" She trailed off as she looked around the table.

"The Nott lands and fortune," Theo lifted his head, "They are yours, Hermione. They've always been."

"Thanks, Theo," She gave him a small smile.

"And the Malfoys-" Draco added, then hesitated. "Well, if ask my father to abdicate as Head. Though there hasn't been a pre-death succession in the Malfoy line in at least three centuries. But considering the circumstances."

Hermione nodded her thanks to him.

"I am the heir for the Bulstrode estates," Millie said slowly, rubbing her forearm, "For all the good that would do you honestly. But there are certain conditions for me to become the head and…."

"Don't worry about it, Millie." Hermione said quickly. "I'm not exactly looking to suddenly accumulate lands and fortunes." Yet.

"What are we a talking about?" Pansy asked, coming into the room.

"Heirship."

"Oh- Patrick is the Parkinson Heir. When Daphne marries him- well, I'm not sure what will happen."

"How is she?" Hermione asked. Pansy slumped in a chair and began scanning the list of names and known estates of the prominent death eaters.

"You missed the four acres that the Rosier's have off of Dover- oh- She's fine. Fell asleep. These past few days have been stressful for her."

For all of us, Hermione thought. But she asked, "Pansy- you've known Daphne the longest. Do you know what she was talking about? The Greengrass secrets?"

Frankly, the Greengrass estates were the most interesting and important to Hermione. The Dark Lord already had had access to the Notts, Malfoy's, Parkinson, and Bulstrode estates. Any magical secrets were already known. There was no tactical advantage to them, as impressive as they were.

Of course, Daphne was the one who went into hysterics at the thought of telling anyone about her family.

Pansy shook her head, "No. No one does. The Greengrasses are stupid secretive about some of their lands. Did you know they have a selective obliviation curse when they get married? When Daph and Pat meet under the oak, she's going to leave barely remembering where she grew up. "

Hermione hadn't known and shuddered at the thought of losing chunks of her childhood memories.

"It was worth a try." She sighed.

. . . . . . . . . .

Hermione was anything but surprised when Professor Snape paused next to the Slytherin table that night at dinner. After two days of being holed up in their dorm, it was becoming claustrophobic and she had insisted that the rejoin the world for dinner.

"Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office after dinner, Ms. Granger."

Hermione nodded in acknowledgment and suppressed a pang of worry as her head of house swept off. Despite the supposed reprieve of winter break, the man looked haggard. How was he going to balance the interests of two factions on top of the normal demands of his classroom? Then she dismissed the worry with a shake of her head. There was enough on her plate as it was.

"Are you going to go?" Pansy asked. It was inevitable in the discussion of family rights and estates for the other Slytherins to eventually realize how precarious their current situation was. Right now, they were weak. Less powerful than a pawn, but with the potential to grow more powerful at the expense of the Dark Lord. Which made them particularly vulnerable to him.

On the other hand, they were literally hostages to Dumbledore while they finished their education- which was mandated by the ministry.

Hermione tapped a nail on her coffee cup. "I think I have to," she admitted.

"You don't," Tracy interrupted. "He might not have let us leave, but he can't force you to go."

"He could." Millie frowned at her friend. "He's the most powerful wizard in the world."

"Oh please- when was the last time you actually saw him hold a wand?"

"He defeated Grindelwald." Millie insisted, "He is the only one the Dark Lord wouldn't battle."

"He's currently the headmaster of Hogwarts and thus lord commander of our current residence," Theo drawled earning him a scowl from his girlfriend. "If he wanted to, he could call up the entire castle to do his bidding."

"Then we leave." Tracy stood up, "Right now. Once we are in Hogsmead, we'll floo home and-"

"And go where," Pansy said at the same time that Daphne asked, "Won't that play right into the Dark Lord's hands?"

They were all valid points, Hermione acknowledged bitterly.

"We are in a strong position by staying here," Draco said, drumming his fingers on the table. "The ministry hasn't acknowledged the Dark Lord's return and Dumbledore hasn't made any overt moves. If we stay here, for all the world knows, we are just students finishing up our education. That gives us time to breathe, to plan, to gather more support-"

"But-" Tracy started but Draco cut her off.

"And what do you really expect us to do if we left?" He asked, "We can't go home. We can't leave the country. What are we supposed to do? Spend the whole war apperating from place to place, living in a tent, and terrified of every bump in the night?"

Tracy allowed that no, that was a stupid way to spend their time and that yes, retreating to the Muggle world or a family estate wasn't much better. Hermione quirked her lips.

"I'm going to see Dumbledore," She decided, "Everything you have all said is correct. But however distasteful our current situation, we don't have a clear way to leave or place to go if we succeed."

There were grumbles of acknowledgment and Tracy took her seat again with tight shoulders.

"Plus," Hermione added in a false-bright voice, "Professor Dumbledore says he is fascinated by Soul Magic. Maybe he knows something we don't. We can't afford to overlook any resources at the moment."

"Do you want us to go with you?" Vincent asked as she stood up and extracted herself from the table. Hermione shook her head.

"No. I'm the only one with any training in Occulemancy and Dumbledore is a master Legimangus. We have few enough advantages as is, I want to keep the ones we have safe. Though," She glanced up at the enchanted "It wouldn't hurt to find out how to leave if need be."

. . . . . . .

"Miss Granger," the headmaster beamed from behind his desk, "I trust you are enjoying your reprieve from your studies?"

"Hardly a reprieve, Professor." Hermione smiled thinly over her cup of tea. The Headmaster had spies throughout the school. Even with their care to stay in the Slytherin dorms and liberal use of privacy charms, Hermione would bet her favorite dress robe that the Headmaster knew exactly what they had discovered.

"Have you given any more thought about your Soul Marking?" He asked, confirming her suspicions. "It's a heavy burden to fall on so young of shoulders."

"It was necessary, considering the alternative," Hermione shrugged with false nonchalance and then added, "And I'm hardly the first to undertake it."

The Headmaster studied her for a moment and Hermione fixed her eyes on his left shoulder.

"I wonder how many more times it will be necessary," He said gravely, "Considering the alternatives."

Hermione sighed. She had worried about that exact problem as well. Sharing her friends' souls was one thing, but there were other students in Slytherin who were also being scouted by the Dark Lord that she would not like to know so intimately.

"Hopefully, as few as possible." She said, "It is, as you said, a burden."

"And yet you are a remarkable young woman, Ms. Granger," The Headmaster said, "Overcoming years of prejudice in your house to forge the true friendship Slytherin boasts of. Fostering international friendships and relationships. Organizing your fellow fifth-year students into the strongest set of OWL scores in fifty years, along with other extra circulars." His eyes twinkled mischievously and Hermione realized that of course, Professor Snape would have told him about the extra defense club.

"It's a remarkable, though unconventional resume," He continued as Hermione took another sip of tea, "I hope it will serve you well in your future."

"It is a remarkable and unconventional future," Hermione replied, not quite sure where the Headmaster was going with this conversation. "I'm sure it will." Was she playing the game correctly? Or betray her friends? Or-

Apparently, she had said something right because Dumbledore's twinkle disappeared to be replaced with a somber, melancholic look.

"You are more right than you realize, Ms. Granger." He murmured and seemed to come to a decision, "More tea?"

"Please." Hermione held out her cup and the Headmaster awkwardly refilled her teacup with his left hand. When he sat down again, the old man was once again full of smiles.

"I do hope you'll take me up on the offer to attend private lessons with Mr. Potter and myself. We will be covering information that I believe you will find invaluable."

"Why?" The question was out before Hermione could help herself. She quickly amended the intent of the question, "You've never exactly been charitable to Slytherins before."

A shadow passed over the man's face, but he said lightly, "True, and it is my sincerest wish that you will find it in your heart to forgive this old man's childish prejudices as you have forgiven so many before."

Which left Hermione in no position to do anything but acquiesce and accept the chance for more private tutoring. Dumbledore beamed.

"Excellent. We shall meet the first Sunday evening after the semester begins. Now, I am sure your friends are wondering what I have done to you and so, to protect my own well being, I will return you to them safe and unharmed. Goodnight, Ms. Granger."

Hermione left entirely unsure of what had been accomplished or lost in that conversation. Still, this next semester would prove to be interesting.

. . . . . .. .

A/N: There are some chapter which must simply be posted as is or else risk another three-month break while they are re-worked. Fanfiction is, in a large part, a well-edited first draft and this chapter proves it to me.

Thank you, everyone, for the wonderful response to this story. Your reviews, follows, and favs are the fuel that keeps me writing.