Chapter 11
Hermione smoothed her shirt nervously. She was waiting on Marlene before stepping into the Floo, having been summoned to a meeting with Professor McGonagall.
“You needn’t look so nervous,” Marlene said, rounding a corner and grabbing a handful of Floo powder. “It’s just to discuss your Little accommodations. Sirius and Harry will be there too, you know.”
“I know,” Hermione mumbled, but she sighed all the same. August was passing quickly, and they would head back to school next week. She still dropped more than she cared to, but she’d figured out if she let it happen without a fight, she could push her drops to nights for the most part. That would let her keep her study schedule for sure, and not disrupt classes.
“Cheer up,” Marlene said. “You’ve gotten your drops into a routine, which is handy. McGonagall just wants to talk with you and Harry about what your year is going to look like, what happens if you need to drop during class, that sort of thing. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to know you’ve leveled out so much.”
Hermione nodded, but she still felt nervous. All the same she let herself be gently led into the fireplace, where she called out for the headmistress office. When she stepped out, she found Harry sitting at McGonagall’s desk, Sirius sitting behind him.
“About time, McKinnon,” Sirius greeted as the blonde stepped through. She gave him a playful shove and gestured for Hermione to take the other empty chair, choosing to stand behind her as well.
“Excellent, you’re all here,” Professor McGonagall began. “As you know, students are typically classified at the end of their 7th year. In all my years teaching, we’ve never had classified Little students during the school year.”
“We’ll still be in our normal classes, right?” Hermione asked, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. Marlene gently laid a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it.
“Of course, Miss Granger,” McGonagall said. “I’ve met with both veteran staff members and the board of governors, and we’ve come to a consensus that we hope you both will agree with.”
Hermione leaned forward in expectation, noticing Harry sit up straighter in his own chair.
“First of all, it’s been generally agreed upon that all professors are to be made aware of your classification.”
“I thought everyone would know it anyway,” Harry said, furrowing his brow in confusion.
“Generally, it becomes well known,” McGonagall explained patiently. “Even the most controlled Littles tend to drop at inopportune times, leading it to become common knowledge. And rest assured, if word of your classification reaches the students and they try to discriminate against you, they will be dealt with swiftly.”
“But the professors are going to be told ahead of time,” Marlene offered, “so that if you ever drop during a class time, or can’t come up in time for lessons, you can be excused.”
Hermione shifted around in her seat, staring between Marlene and Sirius, before she nodded. Of course they would already know about this meeting. This was probably what was discussed at their staff meeting the other day, when Hermione and Harry spent an afternoon with Ginny.
“Professors will also not disclose your classification to other students,” McGonagall added, giving a quick stern look to Sirius before continuing. “It will be up to you to disclose if you like, unless, of course, a drop happens in public view.”
Hermione followed McGonagall’s gaze to Sirius, and Harry had noticed it as well.
“Wait, is someone else Little besides us?” Harry asked, looking between the professors in the room.
“As I said, Mr. Potter, we will not be disclosing anyone else’s classification to other students,” McGonagall said firmly. “And I would greatly encourage you to not go poking around to figure it out.”
“Especially not with me, pup,” Sirius said firmly, shutting down Harry’s questioning look.
“Moving on,” McGonagall said, “this year’s returning 7th years are going to be rooming with the rising 7th years. Between those choosing to not return, and those we lost in the war, we’ll have the space to share a dormitory. That said, you two will also have the option to spend nights with your Caregivers, if you so choose.”
Hermione glanced up at Marlene, who nodded along with McGonagall’s words.
“From what I can find out, it would be you, Ginny, and Romilda Vane in a room,” Marlene explained. “But you’ll also have a small bedroom in my quarters as well. It’s up to you where you want to sleep.”
“Harry and Neville are likely the only boys,” Sirius said thoughtfully. “You still have the option to stay with me, pup.”
“You also don’t have to decide now,” Marlene added. “Or you can change it up depending on how the nights go.”
“I don’t mind sharing with Neville,” Harry shrugged. “He’s seen me in headspace.”
“I’m not sure about Romilda,” Hermione said. “If it was just Ginny that would be one thing…”
“You don’t have to stay in the dorms,” Marlene said again.
“But if I don’t then she’ll know for sure what my classification is,” Hermione said, hating the slight whine to her voice.
“We’ll talk about it more later, love,” Marlene said, squeezing Hermione’s shoulder comfortingly once more.
“There’s one more thing,” McGonagall said, turning to face Hermione directly. Her stomach turned into knots at the look on the headmistress’ face, a mixture of sadness and anger.
“The Ministry is looking into doing classifications earlier. St. Mungo’s is reporting students showing signs, and there’s concern that the next generation of Littles may cause damage to themselves by repressing headspace if we don’t move classification timing back. So, in the event that they decide to do classifications earlier, the board of governors met to determine long term policy changes for the school, so we’re prepared.”
Hermione felt bile rise in the back of her throat. Professor McGonagall kept her gaze trained on her, save the occasional glance to Harry.
“What does it have to do with me?” Hermione asked.
“I’m afraid, Miss Granger,” McGonagall sighed, “that it has been decided that students classified as Littles cannot serve as Prefects.”
Hermione felt sick. Tears filled her eyes. Being Little wasn’t supposed to take anything away from her, right? That’s what McGonagall told her the day she got classified, and was what Marlene had told her several times in the weeks since.
“I’m very upset about this decision as well,” McGonagall continued, “and I argued that they have no reason to believe your classification would impede your ability to complete your duties, but my hands were tied. The Ministry has agreed with the governors, and I’m forced to deliver the news to everyone affected.”
“I…I wasn’t supposed to lose anything,” Hermione said, tears streaming down her face now, stomach pulling her to the last place she wants to go.
“It’s not the first time the governors have been stupid, Mione,” Harry offered, reaching out a hand to take one of hers. “We know that. Just prove them wrong. We all know you’ll be at the top of the class anyway, that’ll show them.”
Hermione nodded, wanting to agree with Harry, knowing he had a point, but still unable to calm the storm that swirled in her mind and stomach. Marlene had moved to her side and wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her shoulder gently.
“Look on the bright side,” Harry tried again, “we can ride the train together, right? It’ll be like old times.”
“Except no Ron,” Hermione said softly, sadness creeping into her voice.
“Oh, go on, Hermione, don’t let those old tossers get you down,” Sirius said, crouching down to her level. “We know the people in charge tend to be ruddy old fools.”
“Professor Black!” McGonagall said sharply, glaring at him.
“What? Come on Minnie, you know I’m right.”
“Do not call me Minnie.”
Harry snorted, and Hermione wiped her eyes to see McGonagall staring down Sirius, as if she was trying to figure out how to give a fellow professor detention. The absurdity of the image got to her, and she joined Harry in laughing.
“See, I got her to laugh,” Sirius shrugged, though he subtly stepped back behind Harry’s chair.
“We’re going to have a good year,” Marlene said quickly, as if saving Sirius from himself, “and we’re going to prove that being Little isn’t going to stop you at all. No worries, love, we’re going to make the best of it.”
Hermione nodded, sighing and wiping her eyes. Her stomach began to settle, but there remained a fuzzy annoyance in the back of her skull, beckoning her down. She ignored it and righted herself, refusing to allow the governors to be correct. She even pretended to not notice Marlene side eyeing her now.
“Well, unless anyone has any questions,” McGonagall sniffed, eyes trained on Sirius as if daring him to say another word, “that will be all. I look forward to seeing you all on September first.”
Hermione stood quickly, thanking McGonagall and shuffling to the fireplace. She and Harry exchanged goodbyes as Marlene elbowed Sirius in the ribs.
“You are going to get fired.”
“No I won’t,” Sirius winked, quickly following Harry into the Floo.
Hermione looked up as Marlene rolled her eyes.
“Come on, love, let’s go home.”