Author's Note: This chapter features a spell from the Goblet of Fire. Since it was not in Latin and Rowling never said where it came from, I have taken that to mean that I can do with it as I please. In this case, what I mean by that should be rather obvious.

Secondly, there is yet another reference in this chapter to what the Dementors made Hermione remember. I won't elaborate at this moment.

Thirdly, this chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but this was the best stopping place I could find. I promise my next chapter will be longer.

Chapter 25

Hermione tilted her head to the side, considering the map before her. "Any idea where we should start to look for Detectives Maxwell and Matthias?"

"Maybe we should scry for them," suggested Luna as she finished changing out of her uniform and into her normal clothing.

"I'll have to look into that," sighed Hermione. "I'll do it after lessons tomorrow."

Luna nodded her agreement. "Erma, do you want to talk about-"

"Please, Lulu. Can't this wait until morning?"

She looked over her equations carefully, checking for any flaw. Finally satisfied that it was correct, Hermione held out her palm, wand atop it.

Thinking about Harry, she said, "Point me."

The wand spun for a second before settling on the direction of the Quidditch Field, where Harry and the team were practicing. Hermione smiled, satisfied.

She'd originally considered doing this with witchcraft, but had then decided to try her hand at creating a second Wizarding spell. The first Wizarding spell she had created in her first year was one which made self-sustaining balls of blue flame.

This spell would point in the direction of whatever Hermione was thinking of, be it location, object or person-she hoped. Luckily, witchcraft was such that the spell would be child's play to adapt. The only thing to do was continue testing, and perhaps have Harry and Ron try the spell without telling them she had created it.

"Do you have any chamomile?"

Luna looked up at her sister, confused. "No-I ran out a couple weeks ago."

Hermione let out an expressive stream of curses. "Harry, Ron, do either of you have any chamomile?"

"I have some extra," volunteered Ron.

"May I borrow a teaspoon? I'll replace it next when I get the chance."

"Sure."

"Thanks you," said Hermione, obviously relieved.

"What's going on?" asked Harry as he poked at his brisket.

"I just realized that I'd run out of chamomile," she explained, clearly lying-to Luna at least.

"But that specific an amount implies that you're planning on brewing something," pointed out Luna, suspicious. They'd still not had the conversation Hermione had put off the night before.

"I'm making a potion," Hermione said tightly.

"What potion?" asked Luna before taking a bite of her dinner.

"It's not important."

"What do we-"

"-Have here?"

"My eyes must-"

"-Be deceiving me."

"A Ravenclaw-"

"-In Gryffindor Tower."

"Tisk tisk."

"Oh, get off it," said Hermione. "Lulu and I need to ask a favor-and in return, we'll let you two in on our next two big… projects."

"What projects?" asked Fred.

"We'll be pranking each House team in turn-but not within a week of their next game," said Luna.

Fred tilted his head to the side, considering as George said, "And the other project?"

"School wide-last day before we leave for summer break. Broadway musical, Hogwarts style," said Hermione. "With Snape and Malfoy as the leads."

"I have no idea-"

"-what you just said-"

"-but we're in."

"Ah ah ah," scolded Hermione. "Not until you do us that one little favor."

"What's the favor, Kitten?"

"Harry said you two taught him to pick locks," explained Hermione. "We want you to teach us how to pick any and every type of lock you know."

"Deal," the twins said in unison.

She walked down the hall, a large checked blanket in her arms. Beside her walked Oliver, carrying a basket of food scrounged from the kitchens.

"Where are we going?" asked Hermione.

Oliver grinned at her. "Patience. We're almost there."

They were in one of the many little used areas of the castle. The North-East Tower seemed to no longer serve any purpose at all. They climbed to the top of the relatively short tower, pausing at the final level before the roof.

"This way," said Oliver as he walked to the ladder which led to the roof. "Wait down here."

Oliver handed her the basket before climbing up the ladder and out into the open. Hermione was hit by a blast of cold air which was quickly cut off. After several moments, Oliver looked down through the trap door.

"You can come up now," he said. "Hand me the basket and the blanket."

Hermione did as requested and then followed him up the ladder. The tower had a flat roof and battlements, all open to the sky. Yet, it seemed to be in some sort of bubble which warmed the air and protected her and Oliver from the wind and falling snow.

She smiled at him. "I love it. Nice spell work."

The pair quickly set out the blanket and basket of food before settling themselves. Soon enough they were caught up in a conversation about Gryffindor's chances to win and the talent scouts which had been showing up at the games. They spoke of the scouts who had talked to Oliver and the Puddlemere United tryout he was to attend in a couple weeks. And then the conversation turned to other subjects as Oliver broached the subject Hermione had hoped he'd not take notice of.

"… Muggle-Born, but you and Luna look quite alike," explained Oliver.

Hermione felt the blood drain from her face. "Please, forget you ever thought that."

"What's wrong?" asked Oliver.

"We don't talk about it," Hermione said, thinking quickly.

"What do you mean?"

"It's… well… Lulu and I are related. Distantly. Her mother and my mother were part of the same family," she explained, trying to figure out how to get herself out of this while telling the truth, just in case. "Mom and Grandma have no magic, you see."

"So you're not actually Muggle-Born, then," said Oliver, clearly confused.

"I am," said Hermione, on much more comfortable ground. She'd looked all this up shortly after coming to Hogwarts in her First year and the year before when trying to figure out what was wrong with herself. "You have a squib ancestor somewhere in your family tree as well. All Muggle-Borns are actually the descendants of magic users or magical beings, you see. Most, are descended from squibs who've chosen to go Muggle, but that's not always the case. Our ability to use magic and our magical strength is all genetic."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, squibs are the result of too much inbreeding. Magic users are protected most purebloods from genetic disorders by their magic, but if they become too inbred, they loose magical strength, or are born with the genes, but without the ability to access magic. The genes which enable a person to use magic never leave the bloodline, which is just beyond odd, and against what Muggles know about genetics. So, when a squib marries a Muggle, what happens is that all of his or her descendants will have the genes necessary to use magic, and when they are no long too inbred, that's when a Muggle-Born pops up."

"How do you know all that?"

Hermione shrugged. "I was just curious."

"So purebloods…"

"Are more inbred then the aristocracy."

"That explains a lot."

Hermione fell into helpless giggles at that statement. The pair quickly dove into conversation yet again, Hermione leading it away from Luna and anything which might cause her to make a mistake.

As the sun moved behind the Forbidden Forest, Oliver and Hermione began to pack up the picnic basket. Hermione stiffened as Oliver's arm brushed against her own. She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. She bent to fold the blanket, and when she stood, she noticed Oliver standing before her.

Her eyes widened as Oliver lifted his hand to gently cup her chin. The sound of her blood pumping through her veins roared through her ears as he leaned toward her. Hermione felt almost as if she were a statue. She began to shake, ever so slightly when his lips met her own.

For one, horrible moment, it was not Oliver, but somebody else. Somebody bigger and stronger and holding her down so very tightly as the scent of alcohol filled the air.

And then Oliver was back again. It was Oliver, she told herself. Oliver, who had never hurt a girl-at least not at Hogwarts. Oliver, who was not going to hurt her.

"You're shivering," said Oliver. "My spells must be failing. Let's get you inside."

Somewhat dazed, Hermione allowed herself to be led into the castle.

Carefully, Hermione mixed the liquid in the cauldron before her. It was her eighth batch of dreamless sleep. Unfortunately, each batch did not produce many doses, and she had to make the potion anywhere from once to twice a week. That was why she'd run out of chamomile so quickly. The House-Elves had not had any powdered chamomile.

Hermione picked of the lacewings and barely managed to stop herself from adding them. She scolded herself. She was supposed to add the mint not the lacewings at this stage of brewing.

What was going on with her? She kept making all these sloppy mistakes. She'd not changed her schedule. The workload had not increased all that much. The only thing different was the… was the potion she was taking every night.

Hermione shook her head. Obviously there was something else wrong. It couldn't be because of the Dreamless Sleep potion. She would not let it be because of the potion. It was the only reason she'd didn't fear falling asleep.

"I've spoken with Aunt Melina and my cousin Kari," said Irma. "When we get to Baltimore this summer, they'll see you two immediately."

"Really?" said Hermione.

"Yes. In all honesty, it's doubtful Kari will be able to help either of you with your memory problems, however, Aunt Melina probably will be able to give you some aid."

"Thank you."

"When are we leaving for Baltimore?"

"I've already gotten arranged for you two to get passports and visas. Our flight leaves Sunday, the twenty seventh of June. We'll be returning to England Tuesday the nineteenth of August. I've already spoken to both your parents and they've agreed to this arrangement."

Sandy considered the information before him carefully. He should, he knew, be studying for midterms, but in the face of this new information, his studies could wait.

Leila Tisdale was one of several students who did not return to school the September after Erma and Lulu had disappeared, however, unlike those students, she did not transfer. Leila had been in the same class as Lulu, though she was a year older than Erma. However, that was understandable as both Erma and Lulu had skipped three years each.

Leila had left the school to visit her home the same day as Erma and Lulu. However, three weeks later she'd been institutionalized. He'd have to travel to her home city to find more information, but it hopefully wouldn't take that long. Sandy supposed he could do so during spring break, which was coming up in two weeks.

He wasn't sure if Leila had anything to do with what had happened to Erma and Lulu, but he would still investigate. Obviously something had happened to the girl, whether it was a mental breakdown or something else. And if it had anything to do with his baby cousins, he would find out.