(Y/N)'s POV

When Hermione's Daily Prophet arrived, she smoothed it out, gazed for a moment at the front page, and then gave a yelp that caused everyone in the vicinity to stare at her. Mine arrived a few seconds later, along with a letter. I read it, horror-struck.

My heart started to rocket out my chest, illness overtook me and I was nearly sick. I could feel acid begin to rise from my stomach, but then, I thought back to Dumbledore's advice, his warning.

I had to get stronger, I had to get better, if what I had seen was true, it was only a matter of time, and I knew come hell or high water, I'd be ready. The same things I had been feeling since last year were replaced by one thing. Hatred.

Hermione's POV

"What?" said Harry and Ron together as I gasped at the article. We shared a glance until (Y/N) kicked off next to us. Ripping up a letter he had just received. "No! NO!" he screamed; I heard a little bit of fright in his voice, but it quickly changed to anger, he was shaking furiously and breathing deeply.

He drew his wand and vindictively slashed the paper, so much that the table had a large chunk sliced out of it too, then he quickly sped out of the room, looking to the others we all decided to see why, although I think we all knew why in the back of our minds.

Looking to the others we all decided to see why, there on the page in black and white, was a name and a picture, a name I had heard only a few times before, and a picture I would have recognised, but it had been cut through violently.

Under the words "ESCAPED" and a now shredded portrait read the name, "Antonin Dolohov" I quickly turned to see where (Y/N) had run off to, but he was to quick, I couldn't catch him before he disappeared into the crowded staircase.

I spread the newspaper on the table in front of us and we read on, pointed at ten black-and-white photographs that filled the whole of the front page, nine showing wizards' faces and the tenth, a witches.

Some of the people in the photographs were silently jeering; others were tapping their fingers on the frame of their pictures, looking insolent. Each picture was captioned with a name and the crime for which the person had been sent to Azkaban.

"Antonin Dolohov," read the legend beneath a wizard with a long, pale, twisted face who was sneering up at us, "convicted of the brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett."

"Augustus Rookwood, said the caption beneath a pockmarked man with greasy hair who was leaning against the edge of his picture, looking bored, convicted of leaking Ministry of Magic Secrets to He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Our eyes were drawn to the picture of the witch. Her face had leapt out immediately. She had long, dark hair that looked unkempt and straggly in the picture, she glared up through heavily lidded eyes, an arrogant, disdainful smile playing around her thin mouth.

Like Sirius, she retained vestiges of great good looks, but something, perhaps Azkaban, had taken most of her beauty. "Bellatrix Lestrange, convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom."

Upon reading this we looked over the table at Neville, who was reading, his mouth slightly agape looking pale and clammy, but then, just like we had seen with (Y/N) a few seconds earlier he grit his teeth, his eyes flashing with an anger that was very uncommon in him, we could see the rage on his face from here.

I turned to Harry and Ron, who were still staring off in the direction (Y/N) had stormed off, "I'll talk to him" they nodded. I had to wait for after classes, in which he sat and just did work, barely making conversation. Even the teachers seemed put off by his silence, several asking if anything was wrong or if he had to visit Madam Pomfrey.

I found him later that day, in the Room of Requirement, covered in sweat, his arms shaking, but furiously cursing a training dummy, disintegrating it, then grunting in frustration, muttering "Not good enough" and starting again. I approached him from behind quietly.

"What do you want?" he said shortly without turning around. "What's wrong?" I said softly. "Nothing, just practising for the DA" he lied through his teeth, I sighed in frustration. "What did that letter say?" I enquired softly.

(Y/N)'s POV

"Nothing important" I answered, thinking back on the empty words It had written on it. "I've seen the Prophet. I'm working on it, don't worry." Was all the letter said, but how could I not?

If Antonin Dolohov was loose, it could only mean bad things were coming with him. But I knew one thing, when they did. I was going to be ready. After a while of trying to pry it out of me Hermione was basically shaking in frustration.

"Now tell me the real reason you're doing this." She said, taking another breath, I argued I already had. "Don't lie. I know you, I know that isn't all it is, it's because he's the one who hurt your Mum isn't it?" she was right of course, but I wasn't going to tell her that, that would mean admitting it, not only to her, but to myself.

She pressed on "Tell me or I'll-" I interrupted before she could continue "Bit harsh Hermione, it took me four years to get you to swoon, I don't know how long it will take me a second time" I was trying to drop the topic, she looked utterly shocked "No. That wasn't what I was going to say! I would never-"

"Kidding love calm down" I stopped her panicking; it was cute to see. Calmed me down a bit. "If you really want to know, it's because I need to get stronger, Dumbledore basically told me" "Why?"

"If he's free, he's coming for us," I said grimly, the reality finally hitting me, "I understand" she said. I chuckled, "Hermione, you might 'understand' but you don't really get it" "Then explain" she said calmly.

So, I did. "Mum was the reason he was sent to Azkaban" I started. "So, growing up...she told us stories about him, and since I was six years old, she's used him as proof..." I took a breath trying to put it into words she'd understand.

"As proof that she could beat any monster under my bed." "Because they were nothing, compared to Antonin Dolohov" Hot tears pricked my eyes. "Hermione. To me, to my family. Antonin Dolohov is the boogeyman."

She stood there in stunned silence, I turned around and wiped the tears from my eyes. I used my wand to slash the head off of the dummy, venting some frustration "But don't worry, I'm not scared of him anymore, when he does find me, I'll be ready, If he comes anywhere near me I'll know, and I'm gonna take his goddamned head off!" I said, trying to convince myself.

I held up part of the foeglass that I had chipped off the one in the room. "I have a favour to ask Flitwick" I smiled. "It won't be like last time; I won't be as weak as I was before" "You're not weak!" she argued, I shook my head.

"I am Hermione, Voldemort knows it, Dumbledore knows it, it's true. I'm not strong enough to deal with them-" "You are!-" she tried to argue. "Hermione, I can't even make prefect!" she didn't speak, "How am I going to fight a Death Eater?"

The silence remained for another beat and she said, "What are you so afraid of?" in a quiet voice. She really can see straight through me, I chuckled at the thought, I knew exactly what I was afraid of, I just didn't know how to put it into words, I thought for a second.

"I never want to feel like that ever again" I said, a bit ominous but I have an innate flair for the dramatic, "What?" She asked, confused. "That feeling of still being in the Graveyard. Still waiting to die. Convinced that there is nothing I can do to save myself" she stormed up to me.

I ignored her approach and continued to rant "-At that moment, I was powerless, Voldemort could stop anything I did, I was about to die, but I didn't even have control of that, I felt like I was delaying the inevitab-" Hermione had basically just headbutted a hug into my chest, knocking the breath out of my lungs.

"Idiot!" she said past the tears that were hitting my shirt. She looked up at me, she looked angry, which was weird because she was in tears. "That's what all this was for!" she took a shaky breath.

"The DA means we aren't alone anymore, ever" I nodded, she always manages to say the right thing, always managing to show me how stupid I was being with just a few words. She pushed off me and immediately wiped her tears, turning away from me "Prat!"

"C'mon we have classes!" she said, looking over her shoulder at me, holding out her hand aggressively, like I was tempting death if I didn't take it. Of course I took it eagerly. As we were walking down the hall I decided I couldn't take it anymore, I'd been putting it off since I got back from the graveyard, I had to tell her.

"Hermione" she turned, a smile still plastered on her face, my words faltered at my mouth, I pulled every reserve of confidence I had. Hoping I could put it into words. "Yeah?" she beamed at me.

I struggled for words, she just looked at me, perplexed. I was shaking, all my words died in my throat, so I decided to try to just say it fast and get it over quickly. "You know I like you right!?" came out of my mouth, faster than I meant. "DAMN IT!" I thought.

"I know silly" she said with another charming smile, god she was making this hard, she stepped forward and grabbed my hands as we were heading down to Care for Magical creatures " Great, she didn't understand, what now?" I panicked as we walked over the bridge, I'm just going to say it "No, I mean I Lo-" I didn't get the word out.

Her lips were pressed to mine before I could, I could still feel the heat from her cheeks from crying and she smiled into it. While she pulled back, she said "I love you" I smiled, it was probably the best thing I'd ever heard, and I had watched Seamus try to turn water into rum every breakfast for five years.

"I love you too" I finished, putting my forehead on hers, she smiled widely, I'm sure I was a grinning mess too. She had a smirk on her face the whole way down the path. We separated before we got to the bottom.

The first thing I heard was Ron yell "Where the bloody hell have you been you look like you got chewed on by a dragon" I shrugged "Tried that once, kicked the habit" I pat him on the back, "Hermione just sorted me out, nothing to worry about."

Hermione's POV

That night Harry came in looking very frustrated and moody, which was pretty common, but we still had to check on him. (Y/N) was missing again. Ron and I spoke to Harry. After I asked him if he was working his hardest with Snape and Occlumency he snapped at me.

"I am working!" said Harry, nettled. "You try it sometime, Snape trying to get inside your head, it's not a bundle of laughs, you know!" "Maybe . . ." said Ron slowly. "Maybe what?" I said, tired of his constant doubting of Snape.

"Maybe it's not Harry's fault he can't close his mind," said Ron darkly. "What do you mean?" I asked "Well, maybe Snape isn't really trying to help Harry. . . ." Ron looked darkly and meaningfully at us.

"Maybe," he said again in a lower voice, "he's actually trying to open Harry's mind a bit wider...make it easier for You-Know-" "Shut up, Ron," I said angrily. "How many times have you suspected Snape, and when have you ever been right?"

"Dumbledore trusts him, he works for the Order, that ought to be enough." "He used to be a Death Eater," said Ron stubbornly. "And we've never seen proof that he really swapped sides..."

A voice announced, "He saved Harry's life first year, my life fourth year, and has been working with Dumbledore for longer than we've been alive" (Y/N) argued, still covered in sweat, he had been in the Room of Requirement again. I suppose I can't blame him for still being concerned, but I had a plan to cheer him up.

"How much more proof do you need?" he said quickly. Slouching into a seat nearby. Groaning in relief. "Dumbledore trusts him," I repeated. "And if we can't trust Dumbledore, we can't trust anyone."

(Y/N)'s POV

After that was over Hermione cleared her throat oddly. "S.P.E.W meeting" she gave me an odd look that I think I was supposed to know meant something. "Fine, let's get it over with" groaned Ron, stretching his arms, Harry nodded quietly "Fine." I shrugged and turned my head to her, yawning.

"NO!" said Hermione much to our collective shock. She coughed and went to explain herself "Um, didn't I tell you? Me and (Y/N) are-" she paused to think "Executive members" she smiled, "We have more things to discuss."

That seemed good enough for Ron, who curled up on the couch again, Harry looked a bit sceptical but shrugged, she looked at me, "in private" she raised an eyebrow, I finally caught on. "Oh, yeah I remember now, thanks for the reminder" I said, quickly leaving the room hastily.

We were laughing the whole way to the Room of Requirement. "Hermione Jean Granger how dare you use the good name of S.P.E.W. as an excuse for such acts" I said, mouth agape in fake shock as she smiled at me.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She said coyly, taking my hand. "I don't agree with your methods, but I am happy about the promotion." I teased. Let's just say, we didn't do much to help the house elf cause that night.

In the coming weeks, we had a number of 'S.P.E.W. meetings,' some of them, or most of them really, were the same, but there were a few that was just us talking to each other, if Ron frustrated her, or she was tired of Umbridge, we would have a S.P.E.W. meeting, just the two of us.

It was Valentine's day before I knew it, and I was yet again pulled into one of Hermione's fiendish plans, although she wouldn't tell me much. Apparently, Harry was dragged into it as well.

It had something to do with the Quibbler, and an interview with Skeeter, I could only really catch every fifth word as she explained it to me so quickly and I was very preoccupied at the time.

"Listen, Harry," she said while we were eating breakfast. "This is really important. . . . Do you think you could meet me in the Three Broomsticks around midday?" "Well . . . I dunno," said Harry dubiously.

"Cho might be expecting me to spend the whole day with her. We never said what we were going to do." "Fair enough looks like he can't come, oh well..." I said expectantly, she frowned at me, and then managed to convince him to come.

This of course meant that instead of spending Valentine's day with my new girlfriend I was instead being pulled through Hogsmeade at double speed as she plotted something that could be world domination for all I knew.

"This is not how I'd imagined how I'd spend Valentine's Day!" I protested as she dragged me inside. She then spent the next few minutes explaining to us that we simply had to give accounts of our time in the graveyard last year.

I was extremely reluctant, especially with the old crone's beady eyes bearing down on me, so Harry went first, but eventually, with Hermione's promise of a date afterwards I gave my interview.

I left out some of the details, how I cried a lot, how I was tempted to try to join the Death Eaters. But other then that I gave a pretty thorough account of what happened, right down to the colour of Voldemort's sinister eyes to make up for his lack of a nose.

Hermione was very pleased with this and true to her word, assured me we could now spend Valentine's Day together. We did, it was awesome.

After narrowly avoiding Harry and Cho,  Madam Pudifoot hooked me up with the best seats she had, and then Madam Rosmerta gave us complimentary drinks when we got cold and went back to the Three Broomsticks.

I gave Hermione a dusty old runebook that meant next to nothing to me, but I knew she wanted it, so with some backup from Hedwig and Pig I managed to mail order it straight to my dorm window to avoid Umbridge.

With that she was in a very good mood and gave me her gift, it was simple but still awesome. It was a (F/C) knitted hat that she had clearly done by hand, along with a scarf to match hers. I was so happy I picked her up and spun her around in the middle of the street, earning a few stares from the locals. Just the thought that she would spend all that time on me filled me with joy.

She also gave me a smaller hat for Winky, and told me to give it to her later, I was happy she thought of it but I thought against giving it to her today of all days, "Hermione, I'm pretty sure if I gave her clothes on Valentine's day, she'd probably explode"

She nodded and agreed. We went up to the castle together later. As we were walking among the crowds closer to the castle, we were stopped by one of the people I hated most in the world. Pansy Parkinson stopped us in our tracks with a shrill giggle, snorting at the end of her giggle fit.

"What's with all the voices I'm hearing saying that you fancy me (L/N)? Sorry I don't date blood trai-" I interrupted her, shuffling past her. "Lots of people hear voices in their head Parkinson, I'm pretty sure the one you're hearing is called an imagination" I said with dramatic jazz hands.

She frowned at me and stormed off to the chorus of laughs that followed her, I felt a little bad, but she deserved it. "What was that about?" Hermione asked, eyebrow raised, "It's a long story, nothing important" But I couldn't help but shudder at the thought of some poor soul dating Pansy Parkinson.

Later in the week I was sat with Hermione at breakfast when she showed me a magazine. The Quibbler finally published our article "It's good, isn't it?" said Luna, who had drifted over to the Gryffindor table and now squeezed herself onto the bench between Fred and Ron.

"It came out yesterday, I asked Dad to send you a free copy. I expect all these," she waved a hand at the assembled owls still scrambling around on the table in front of Harry and I, "are letters from readers." Hermione was grinning widely.

We were watching it unfurl as people opened their copies when we were rudely interrupted "Why have you got all these letters, Mr. Potter?" Umbridge asked slowly. "Is that a crime now?" said Fred loudly. "Getting mail?"

"Be careful, Mr. Weasley, or I shall have to put you in detention," "Is it because of the owls?" I asked curiously. Miming a crash landing, she scowled. "Well, Mr. Potter?" Harry hesitated. "People have written to me because I gave an interview," said Harry

"About what happened to me last June." "I did too, you should give it a read, a real page turner, my bit is extra dramatic just for you" I winked at her, her nostrils flared. "An interview?" repeated Umbridge, her voice thinner and higher than ever.

"What do you mean?" "I mean a reporter asked me questions and I answered them," said Harry. "Here —" After he chucked it to her and she gave it a quick read she sighed and shook her head. "When did you do this?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Last Hogsmeade weekend," said Harry. She looked up at him, incandescent with rage, the magazine shaking in her stubby fingers. "There will be no more Hogsmeade trips for you, Mr. Potter," she whispered. "How you dare . . . how you could . . ." She took a deep breath.

"I have tried again and again to teach you not to tell lies. The message, apparently, has still not sunk in. Fifty points from Gryffindor and another week's worth of detentions."

"As for you Mr. (Y/N)" I grinned at her, she scowled, "You will find yourself in detention for a week as well, plus those that you have neglected to attend." I nodded "How many is that?" I asked sweetly.

"Nine and counting" I looked at her impressed, "Surprised you can count that high. Quick maths" her nostrils flared "Vector must love you" "Ten!" she squealed. She stalked away, clutching The Quibbler to her chest, the eyes of many students following her.

By mid-morning enormous signs had been put up all over the school, not just on House notice boards, but in the corridors and classrooms too. Stating that due to a new decree, all copies of The Quibbler were hereby banned, and any student caught with one would be expelled.

For some reason, every time Hermione caught sight of one of these signs she beamed with pleasure. "What exactly are you so happy about?" Harry asked her. "Oh Harry, don't you see?" Hermione breathed.

"If she could have done one thing to make absolutely sure that every single person in this school will read your interview, it was banning it!" Then her simple but effective plan all made sense "Hermione you're a genius"

I went to kiss her but then realised we had company and caught myself, meaning it ended up being a very awkward hug. "Sneaking around is slowly losing its charm" I whispered in her ear, she nodded in agreement.