The Burning Pen

Through the Looking Glass
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence.  Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately.  You are not welcome here.  The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 35

All recognizable characters belong to JKR. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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Chapter 35 ~ Garnering the Troops

Hermione returned to Slytherin house, carrying a handful of parchments. She entered the common room to see her housemates engaged in various activities. Harry and Ron were playing wizarding chess, Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley and several others were doing homework assignments, and Dean Thomas and Parvati Patil were in an armchair, kissing and petting heavily, watched by a few younger students who were getting pointers. Others were play Snap and talking.

Hermione walked up to Harry and Ron.

”Follow me, you two,” she snapped at them, her eyes narrowed. Then she spun and headed for her room.

”Hot damn,” Ron said, jumping up immediately. “Looks like she’s finally thawed out, Harry.”

Harry looked after Hermione and stood up as well. He hoped Ron was right.

”Let’s go then before another freeze sets in,” he replied, following the witch.

The pieces on the chessboard sullenly repaired themselves and returned to their proper places, miffed that the mayhem had ended early without a victory. Harry’s king wiped its small brow in relief. Ron’s bishop and rook had been very, very close.

Hermione entered her room and put the parchments down on her small desk. She had barely turned around when she was crushed between Ron and Harry, who ground against her hungrily, Harry removing his glasses.

”Gods, Hermione,” he breathed, trying to kiss her. “You certainly made us wait.”

”Yeah,” Ron said, running his hand down her thigh, his blue eyes hot and excited. “I’ve got so much wood for you, it feels like there’s a tree in my briefs.”

Hermione pushed them off of her.

”I didn’t call you two in here to shag,” she snapped at them.

Both Harry and Ron stared at her with disappointed faces, visibly slumping. Harry put his glasses back on.

”You’re a bloody tease, Hermione,” Ron muttered, poking out his lower lip a bit. That wasn’t the only thing poking out on the wizard. His robes were fiercely tented as wall.

”I’m not trying to be a tease, I’m really not Ron,” she said to him. “I called you two in here because I need you to do something for me.”

Harry still looked sullen, but Ron’s eyes grew hopeful.

”If it doesn’t involve my cock, does it at least involve my tongue?” he asked her.

”No, Ron. But it does involved sex . . . in a way. What I want you and Harry to do is to tell everyone fourteen and over to meet me in the common room at nine o’clock. At curfew,” she told them. “Everyone needs to be there.”

”An orgy?” Ron asked, his eyes wide now.

”No, Ron,” she said with a sigh. “Not an orgy. Don’t you think about anything other than shagging?”

”Er . . . blow jobs,” he offered to show he didn’t have a totally one-track mind.

Harry grinned slightly at Ron’s reply before he sobered.

”What’s this about, Hermione?” he asked her, his green eyes covetous as they rested on her. He would have loved to shag Hermione.

Hermione looked at Harry.

”Harry, you’ve seen what’s been going on with me in class lately, haven’t you? How the teachers are all giving me a hard time,” she said to him softly.

Harry nodded. He had noticed it as had the rest of Slytherin house, and everyone found it rather odd. Hermione had always been a favorite of the teachers.

”And, I know both you and Ron have been wondering why I haven’t asked any of you to join me for a bit of slap and tickle,” she continued.

”I’ll say,” Ron interjected, frowning.

”Well, it has a lot to do with that. I know you don’t know what’s going on with me, but after tonight, you’ll know,” she promised. “Everyone’s going to know. I just need to get everyone together. This is big, Harry. Big.”

So, whatever Hermione had up her robes sleeve was going to give them answers as to why she was acting so strangely? That would work. Harry, Ron and many others were dying to know what was wrong with her, but it wasn’t wise to ask the witch questions she didn’t want to answer. Harry nodded.

”All right, Hermione. We’ll make sure everyone will be there,” he said, watching as she walked over to her desk, sat down and picked up a quill.

”Good, you do that. I have to get my presentation ready,” she said, taking a page of parchment out of the small desk’s top draw to jot down notes on. “I’ll be out at nine. I don’t want to be disturbed before then.”

”Presentation?” Ron mouthed at Harry, who shrugged.

”Let’s go, Ron,” he said, exiting Hermione’s room, followed by the redhead.

”Damn, I was sure she wanted us to shag her,” Ron complained as they walked down the hall.

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At nine o’clock, a group of muttering, curious Slytherins gathered in the common room. They all wondered why Hermione had called them together.

”Does she want to have an orgy?” Neville asked Harry hopefully. He’d wanted to get at Hermione forever.

Harry shook his head.

”No, Neville. She’s going to give some kind of presentation,” he replied.

Parvati, who was sitting nearby, heard Harry and rolled her eyes.

”Boring,” she said under her breath. “Who does she think she is, gathering us together as if we’re her subjects or something?”

”Shut up, Parvati,” Ron hissed at her, his eyes hard.

He had shagged her after her close call with the alternate Hermione, but he didn’t like her any better. She was a toe rag as far as he was concerned.

Everyone fell silent as Hermione walked in purposely, her hands full of parchments. She handed them to Ginny, who was closest to her.

”Hand these out,” she ordered.

Ginny looked at the parchments curiously, then did as Hermione asked.

The witch stood there, her arms folded and watched as the parchments were passed out, her housemates studying them with raised eyebrows, and exclaiming over them.

”What’s this, Hermione?” Ron asked as everyone looking up at her with interest.

”What’s it say on top?” she responded.

”Extra Credit List,” Ron replied. “Some kind of checklist.”

”Yes, that’s right, Ron. That’s exactly what it is. It’s a checklist that lets a student pick out what they want to do and how many points can be earned for it,” Hermione said.

Murmurs rose up as they looked at the variety of acts.

”Did you make this up? The teachers would never go for it,” Dean said, frowning.

Hermione drew in a deep breath. Now was the hard part.

”Actually, that list belongs to a teacher,” Hermione said. “It belongs to Professor Snape. He uses it so the students that come to him have a choice and know what they’re earning. They don’t have to do anything they don’t want to do.”

Now everyone stared at her.

”Professor Snape? Hermione, surely you didn’t do any extra credit with him?” Ginny breathed as the rest of the Slytherins looked at her with narrowed eyes.

”No. No, I haven’t. But I’ve been doing it with everyone else, and that’s why I called you all here. When I came back from the alternate universe, not one teacher gave me any time to breathe or get my bearings. They all sent me notes saying that I needed to get my marks up and to report for extra credit immediately or my grades would suffer. All of them . . . almost at one time.”

Everyone was silent. That had to be hard on the witch.

”And you know something . . . I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t feel like doing extra credit work with any of them. But I had to do it,” she said, her voice quavering.

”So?” Parvati said, “We all have to do it, Hermione. Everyone knows that.”

”But, Parvati, it’s called ‘extra credit.’ It’s not supposed to be mandatory. We’re supposed to have a choice whether or not to engage teachers,” Hermione retorted, frowning. “They’re making us do it, and that’s not right.”

”That’s the way it is,” Parvati shot back. “What did they do to you in that world to make you such a milk-livered clotpole, Hermione? You’ve gotten weak. The teachers are treating you like dirt and you walk around here like your arse is dragging on the floor. Did they cut off your clit or something?”

Titters rose from the group and Parvati looked around smugly.

Suddenly, the witch found herself on the floor, her hair wrapped in Hermione’s fist, and her wand pointed inches from her forehead. Hermione snarled down at her.

”You think I’ve gotten weak, Parvati?” she hissed as the other Slytherins moved away. “I assure you, I’m not weak, you bitch. Want me to prove it? Please, tell me you do.”

Parvati looked up into Hermione’s hate-filled eyes and swallowed. She had no doubt the witch would blast her from point-blank range.

”No,” she whispered.

Hermione glared down at her for a moment, then released her.

”Don’t get any ideas about blasting me while I’m talking, Parvati, or I’ll make sure you have to visit Madam Pomfrey,” she warned as she backed away.

Parvati clambered back up the sofa and sat down quietly, brushing her hair back, her face crimson. She didn’t reply, but she got the message. So did the other Slytherins.

Hermione was deadly serious.

Hermione returned to her position in front of the others and brushed her hair back.

”Now, I know for a fact there are some of you who don’t like engaging some teachers. Ron, you complain about having to bugger Professor Sprout all the time,” she said to him.

Ron’s face screwed up.

”Yeah. Well, her arse just seems to get bigger and bigger, and sometimes she doesn’t . . . doesn’t clean herself properly, and she won’t let me wear a condom. Says it interferes with the feeling or something,” he said as everyone’s face screwed up in sympathy. “I hate it, but I have to pass the class.”

”Exactly,” Hermione said, latching on to this. “And Harry, you and Flitwick don’t get on well either . . .”

”I don’t want to talk about it,” Harry said, shaking his head as if to clear it.

Hermione looked around the room.

”I bet every one of you has had to do things you didn’t want to do with teachers you didn’t want to do them with, feeling there was nothing you could do about it,” she said to them all.

Murmurs of agreement rose.

”The Potions mistress likes to tie ropes around my balls and lead me around her bedroom by them, calling me her ‘big, black buck,’ then . . . then makes me give her rim jobs, both before and after I bugger her” Dean admitted. “I hate giving rim jobs . . . and I think she knows that.”

The students began to talk among themselves about what they didn’t like about their teachers and the things they had to do. Hermione let them do it for a minute or two, before calling them back to order.

”See, we all have complaints. We’re all in the same boat,” Hermione told them and everyone agreed.

”Yeah, but what can we do about it?” Ron asked her. “I mean, we all agree that we don’t like doing some of the extra credit, Hermione, but it seems like you’re just pissing in the wind. We can’t do anything about it.”

Hermione’s brown eyes drifted over her fellow students, a fire inside them.

”We can do something about it, Ron. We can boycott. We can refuse to do any extra credit until they agree to institute that list you have in your hands, and agree to give us proper marks for the work and tests we do. Do you know why Professor Snape has never failed any of us, despite the fact none of us do extra credit with him?”

”He’s a wuss?” Ron answered as everyone stared at Hermione as if she’d grown extra appendages. Boycott extra credit? Was she mad? They’d all be stuck at Hogwarts for another year.

”No, Ron. He doesn’t fail us because he takes our class work, homework and tests into consideration. He says what work we do matters, and passes us because we participate like we’re supposed to do. He believes extra credit is just that. Something extra. So, he doesn’t require it. A student can choose whether or not to engage him. He doesn’t pressure anyone to do it if they don’t want to, and he doesn’t punish them if they don’t. That’s the way it’s supposed to work.”

”Hermione, if we boycott, they’ll fail us,” Neville said.

”No. No, they won’t. Not if everyone boycotts,” she said persuasively, “not if everyone in the school refuses to do it. Not just us, but the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and even the Gryffindors. They can’t fail the entire school or they’ll look like they’re not doing their jobs and will get sacked!”

”What? You want us to work with other houses, Hermione? That’s insane,” a voice piped up.

Hermione scowled, unable to tell who made the comment.

”No, what’s insane is that we let the teachers make us do what they want without a choice, give us the points they want to give us, and fail us when they don’t like our performance. That’s not right, and that’s not how it’s supposed to be. Don’t you see? We can control them if we do this right. It’s a lot better than trying to hex them when their backs are turned. They know how to protect themselves from that. This is another kind of attack. We hold their livelihoods in our hands. I know the students of the other houses have the same gripes we do. Not everyone wants to do Flitwick, McGonagall and the others. We all have the same complaint. By ourselves, we can’t pull this off, but together . . . we can change how things go. Don’t you see this? We’re an army!”

The Slytherins all stared at her, confused, apprehensive looks on their faces. They had never worked together for anything . . . but what Hermione was saying made sense.

Hermione pulled out a parchment that consisted of several pages clipped together.

”You see this? This is a petition I’ve made for everyone to sign. Everyone in the school, all the students that are the age of consent. It tells what we want. Choice and point regulation concerning extra credit work. That our marks for class work, homework and exams are given full credit outside of any extracurricular activities, and . . . “

Hermione paused for a moment. This part was something she’d lifted from the other world

” . . . and the option to do written extra credit assignments as well. That way, we don’t have to engage a teacher if we don’t want to, but still be able to gain extra credit in his or her class.”

Everyone perked up at this. Before, doing extra writing assignments always sounded like too much work, but now, after talking about how distasteful it was to engage unappealing staff members, it didn’t sound bad at all. It sounded great, actually.

”And, after everyone signs it, I intend to present it to the Headmaster, to give him a chance to make the changes himself. If he refuses to do it, then we’ll boycott,” Hermione said, willing them to listen.

”Like I said, they can’t fail all of us. Hogwarts HAS to have a graduating class. If they don’t, they won’t be considered a premiere institution any longer. Questions will be asked by the parents and the Board of Governors. And the Prophet would definitely find it news. In fact, we can leak the boycott to the Prophet. Don’t you see? We can really do this! We can take control of what happens to us. But we have to stick together,” Hermione said.

”I don’t see what good leaking it to the Prophet will do, Hermione,” Harry said, frowning. “Our parents or guardians all know about the extra credit. A lot of them attended Hogwarts too.”

”Yes, they know about it. I bet some of them remember what it was like to have to do a teacher they didn’t like, too. It’s not that we’re trying to stop it, Harry, just regulate it and have other options. It’s not supposed to be mandatory. That’s the point. It’s reasonable if you look at it that way. I’m sure not one of our parents wants us to do anything we don’t want to do. They’ll back us, I’m sure of it. And even if some don’t, so what? It’s our lives, not theirs.”

Hermione shook the petition at them, then walked over to a table with quill and inkwell, put it down, picked up a quill, dipped it into the ink and signed her name with a flourish. She looked over at her housemates.

”We can do this,” she said. “Don’t be a bunch of sniveling cowards. We’re Slytherins. We manipulate others in order to get what we want. Well, we want our rights! Choice! Options! I don’t want to have to do four teachers in three days to get a few lousy points. If I want to, that one thing, but if I don’t . . . then I shouldn’t have to. Neither should you. Now, if you’ve got any balls at all, get over here and sign this petition. We’ll work on getting the other houses involved. I’ll pass it around myself at breakfast in the morning. I’ll go to every table and hand out flyers.”

”Hermione, you can get in a world of trouble for that!” Harry said, worried now.

”It’s not against the rules to visit other tables, or even to move around the Great Hall. We don’t do it, but it isn’t against the rules. I’m not afraid anyway. I’m tired of being treated like this. I’m going to do something about it. I’m willing to get in trouble to break the chains of oppression! I’m not just doing this for me, but for all of us, Harry. All of us!”

Hermione stood next to the table, her words ringing through the common room as her housemates looked back at her. There was silence for several moments, then . . . Neville Longbottom stood up.

”I’m with you, Hermione,” he said, walking over to the table, picking up the quill and signing his name to the parchment as she beamed at him.

”I like Professor Sprout,” the wizard said, turning to Hermione. “She’s brilliant . . . but . . . I don’t like shagging her.”

”You won’t have to do it anymore, Neville. All we have to do is stick to our wands,” Hermione said to him with a smile.

Ron strode over, shouldering Neville out of the way and writing his name on the petition in large, bold script.

”You might like her, Neville, but I think she’s a nasty old sow,” Ron hissed. “She smells like fertilizer most of the time. Ugh! As if buggering her isn’t bad enough.”

One by one, the Slytherins signed the petition, chattering excitedly among themselves. Could they really pull this off? Only Parvati seemed sullen and put out, but . . . she signed it as well, avoiding Hermione’s eyes as she did so.

Hermione watched them interact, her eyes glistening. It was happening. They were together on this. They were one.

Professor Snape was right. They did indeed have the makings of an army.

An army on the move.

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A/N: Another enjoyable chapter to write. We’re moving right along, aren’t we. Now, how do you suppose Tom Riddle is going to react to this petition? Is he going to shoot it down, impose martial law? Institute torture as punishment? Hm. Don’t know yet. Heh, heh. Well, actually I do . . . but you don’t. Seems a bit unfair doesn’t it? Lol. But I won’t draw it out. We’ll see next chapter before we return to the world of our Hermione and Snape. They should be setting out on their adventure by then. :). Thanks for reading, ya’ll. ****

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