A/N: I promise that my next update will be another installment of Bearings. You can find focused author feedback for this story here: http://talk.portkey.org/index.php?showtopic=34954. And now the epic conclusion to Year One.
Chapter Nineteen
Spring Term 1992
I was disoriented as I passed through the flames, because they violently licked over my body, hungrily trying to burn me, but I felt nothing. My vision cleared after a second and I was back in the chess room; it was still completely empty except for Ron's crumpled form. Trying not to think of what Harry might be enduring behind me, I rushed forward and knelt by Ron's side.
"Ron!" I called, shaking him. His head lolled crazily to the side. At least his chest was still moving.
"Oh Ron, come on, wake up!" I tried again, shaking him a little harder. It's too bad ennervate isn't taught until fourth year, because I could have most definitely used it at that moment.
He twitched; I felt it in the muscles of his upper arm. I stopped shaking and watched. It looked like his throat was working… then he rolled over slightly and coughed several times. They were deep, chest-busting coughs, almost like he hadn't breathed properly in a long time.
"Ron. Ron!" I said, and he opened his eyes. They were unfocused for a long moment, as his brain climbed back to consciousness, but soon enough he recognized me.
"Her-Hermione!" he exclaimed, sitting up a little. He grimaced and wrapped an arm around his midsection, where the white queen had struck him.
"Are you ok?" I asked.
"Dunno," he said, trying to stand. I helped him up. He looked around suddenly, searching the entire room. "Where's Harry? And were you crying?"
I hastily wiped my sleeve across my face, removing any errant tears. "No-yes. Uh, Harry, well he went on, and I couldn't…" I would not cry in front of Ron.
"What do you mean? Why couldn't you go with him?"
"There was this potion you had to drink to move to the next room, but there was only enough for one person."
"And Harry naturally decided to be the one to move on," Ron said, though it was a statement, not a question.
"Something like that," I nodded.
"Figures," he muttered. "So he could facing Snape-or You Know Who-by himself?!"
"Yes," I said. I resisted the temptation to say the name just to watch Ron flinch. Now was not the time.
"Well-bollocks… What do we do now?"
"Are you ok to walk?" I asked.
He pressed gingerly on his abdomen. "I think so."
"Then we need to go for help," I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him the way we had come. "McGonagall, Flitwick, even Dumbledore if he's back. And we need to hurry!" I said, remembering that Harry could very well be facing a Dark Lord without any help. Oh Merlin, how did all this happen? How is it that five first years were left to save the Stone? I could feel the frustration that had been underneath my observations of Hogwarts for the entire year slowly simmering into a rage, which would soon become a towering inferno. For now, though my mind was singularly focused on getting us out of there.
I started to trot, pulling Ron along with me when he didn't complain. He was still holding his stomach, but he seemed to be managing. We moved along the corridor between the chess room and the winged-creature room quickly, coming upon the threshold of the latter in just a minute or two. As we approached, I could hear the sinister swish of those razor wings high overhead. I shuddered involuntarily as I remembered what they had done to Neville. I hoped he was alright.
"Now what?" Ron whispered, crouching just before the entrance to that room. He looked at me, waiting for an answer.
"We both made it across last time," I answered, though I knew that was not the best thing to do. We might have only made it across because those winged things had gone for the slowest person, which had been Neville. We might not be so lucky this time.
Ron looked dubious. "I dunno, Hermione…"
"Well, what about the broom?" I asked, pointing to the one remaining broom, which was just out of reach. "We could both ride it across, and actually we're going to need it to get out of here."
"That's better than running across."
"Ok, let me get the broom," I said, inching forward. My eyes were turned upward, and I was sincerely hoping that the half a meter I would have to cross into the room would not set those things off.
"Hermione-be careful!" Ron whispered, fiercely. From the sound of his voice, his head must have also been turned toward the ceiling, which was far overhead, unseen.
"I know," I responded, now fully in the room. They hadn't started toward me yet… "Got it!" I told him and lunged backward into the hallway. My heart was hammering in my chest and I could feel sweat trickling down the sides of my face. I knew that my hair must have truly been a frizzy mess at this point, with all the running, sweating, and worrying I'd been doing for the last hour or so.
"Ok, let's get on," I told him, sitting toward the front of the broom. I was still a little awkward on these things, but Harry's flying lesson had helped me overcome my initial fear.
"Er…" Ron intoned, settling uncertainly onto the broom behind me. I smiled to myself as I realized he was carefully avoiding touching me.
"Ronald," I said, "you're going to fall off if you don't wrap your arms around me."
"Wha-what?!" he yelped, as if he had been burned.
"Honestly, hold on to me," I said, huffing a bit. Boys! They could be frustrating and immature! "You're going to fall off if you don't."
"Oh, um, ok," he said. The broom shifted slightly as he inched forward. I felt his hands settle on my hips. That would have to be good enough.
"Hold on!" I called, and leaned forward like Harry had shown me.
We accelerated into the room. I heard the swishing noise change in pitch as those things no doubt dove for us, but I was concentrating too hard on keeping the broom on course to look up. In no time, we were safely across the room and into the other hallway, having left those winged creatures behind.
"Where did you learn to fly like this?" Ron asked, yelling in my ear to be heard over the air rushing past us. I thought my hair must have been flying back into his face.
"Harry taught me!" I yelled back, to which I received no response. We were flying very close to the ground, so this was manageable for me. If we'd had to do any kind of aerial acrobatics, then there might have been problems.
We zoomed along the corridor, making good time as we headed back to the room with the Devil's Snare. As before, I noticed that the corridor had a gentle slope, though in this direction it was ascending. Shortly thereafter, we came upon the Devil's Snare. I pulled the broom to a stop, brandishing my wand over our heads to illuminate the slowly creeping vines of the plant.
"Same thing as last time?" Ron wondered, holding his wand over his head.
"Yes," I affirmed.
"Incendio!" we both incanted, sending jets of flame toward the vines. They parted before the fire very quickly, leaving us a rather large hole to fly through. "Keep it going!" I called, kicking against the floor and rising straight through the air. We passed through the vines unmolested and then through the trapdoor. I saw that Fluffy was not asleep, and I knew that it would only take several seconds for the dog to overcome its surprise and snap at us, so I turned on the spot and flew straight through the door into the third floor corridor.
"Colloportus!" I incanted, having stopped and turned just beyond the threshold. The door slammed shut, cutting off Fluffy's growing growls.
"Merlin, Hermione," Ron breathed. There was wonder in his voice.
"What?"
"You're scary," he told me. I raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. "Brilliant, yes, but scary," he finished.
I laughed. "Thanks Ron, I think? How's your stomach?"
"Hurts," he answered. "But I'll survive. What now?"
"Hospital Wing!" I told him, dismounting and sticking my wand into my back pocket. Ron was there beside me, doing the same thing.
"Wouldn't it be faster to fly?"
"Too many tight corners," I said. "Come on!" So we set off at a dead run toward the Hospital Wing, pounding through the wide stone corridors of Hogwarts like our very lives depended on it. Everyone must have been at dinner by now, because the hallways were completely empty. As we neared the final corridor, we suddenly found ourselves running headlong toward the Headmaster, who was sprinting toward us.
"Hermione, Ron!" he called. His face was unlike I had ever seen it-his usual mask of passivity and benignity was gone, replaced by a tight, worried expression.
"Headmaster!" I called. "It's Harry-" I started, but he cut me off as we halted near each other. Ron was by my side.
"He's gone after him, hasn't he?" he said, searching me intently with his eyes.
"Yes! And he's all alone!"
He eyes slipped close for the briefest of instants, and I suddenly saw him for how old and careworn he really was.
"FAWKES!" he called, and two seconds later the glorious Phoenix was there, resting on his shoulder.
"Take me to the room with the Mirror of Erised!" he yelled, and then they were gone in a flash of light and heat.
"What the…?" Ron asked.
"He's gone to help Harry!" I told him, and grabbed his hand. Merlin, if anything had happened to Harry… "Let's go!"
I pulled Ron along as we rounded the corner and saw the doors to the Hospital Wing ahead of us. We exploded into the long room, noticing that Madam Pomfrey and Sally were near the back of the room. They both looked in our direction as the doors banged against the wall.
"Hermione! Ron!" Sally called, running toward us. I slammed into her, embracing her with all my strength. She and Ron hugged as well, though it was not nearly as powerful. Ron looked very uncomfortable.
"Are you alright? Where's Harry? Did Dumbledore go after him?" she asked, all at once.
"Yes, we're fine. Harry had to go on alone-it was the last protection! And yes, Dumbledore went to help him," I answered. Ron was looking back and forth between us with a rather bewildered expression on his face.
"Oh…oh, I hope everything's alright!" she exclaimed. Her hair was looking as frazzled as I knew mine was.
"How's Neville?" Ron asked, refocusing us.
"Uh, alright I think," Sally answered. "He lost a lot of blood, but Pomfrey's been giving him blood replenishing potions, and she easily healed all his wounds. He should be fine tomorrow or the next day."
"Good," I breathed, and Ron and I followed Sally over to Neville's bed. Madam Pomfrey nodded at us, doing some diagnostic tests on our fallen friend. Neville was white as a sheet, but his chest was rising and falling rhythmically, which was a very good sign.
"Madam Pomfrey, Ron needs to be looked at as well," I said, ignoring Ron's look of betrayal. For all I knew, he could have serious internal bleeding.
"Oh?" she asked, looking at Ron and then moving her wand to him. "What happened to him?"
"He was struck in the abdomen," I told her. She ran her wand over him, muttering under breath.
"It appears that you have a cracked rib and severe bruising, Mr. Weasley," she said, motioning toward a bed. "Lie down and I'll have you fixed in a jiffy." He did as he was told, even though he was grumbling about it.
The next few minutes passed in a haze as my body cooled off from its prolonged usage of adrenaline and endorphins. I hadn't noticed it before, but I was drained of energy. After Pomfrey had attended to Ron and given him a few potions, she noticed me sagging next to Neville's bed.
"What's the matter, Ms. Granger?"
"Just tired is all," I said.
"Here, drink this," she said, handing me a Pepper-Up potion. She gave one to Sally as well. It tasted awful, but it did the trick. I perked up almost immediately.
"Now, will someone tell what is going on?" Pomfrey asked. Her eyes were moving between Sally and me.
"Er, well…" Sally started, though she obviously had no idea what to say. I wasn't even sure we should tell Pomfrey, even though it was clear that Dumbledore already knew what was happening.
Before I had a chance to explain the gist of things, the doors to the Hospital Wing burst open, focusing the attention of the room on four new figures. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape strode into the room. My heart skipped several beats as I saw that Dumbledore was levitating Harry in front of him. All of their faces were hard.
"Harry!" I screamed, leaping over a chair that was in my way and running toward him. Sally was right behind me.
"Ms. Granger," Dumbledore said, "I assure you there is nothing about which to be immediately alarmed. Harry is fine, considering what he just went through. Now if you please, stand aside so Madam Pomfrey can administer the proper care." His voice was tight and commanding, but there was also an undertone of understanding. I did as I was told and observed as he laid Harry on the bed between Ron and Neville. The Professors stood back and let Madam Pomfrey work.
"Albus, what happened to him?" Pomfrey asked. There was some kind of accusation in her voice.
"Harry has just prevented disaster, yet again," the Headmaster, and his voice resonated with a soul-wearying sadness. I looked at him, seeing that he was staring intently at Harry. I glanced at Sally and saw a question in her eyes, to which I shrugged.
"His magical core is completely exhausted," Pomfrey said. "I've never seen that in someone so young. And there appear to be burns on his hands and throat."
I just stared at Harry's prone form. The usual vivacity he exuded was completely absent, though he was breathing and still alive. His hair hung limply across his forward and his eyes were closed, obscuring his normally vibrant green irises. I noticed the marks on his throat that Pomfrey had mentioned. They looked like someone had tried to choke him.
"Yes, he has come through something that someone so young should never have to endure," Dumbledore sighed. From the tone of his voice, I knew that his thoughts were far away.
That frustration that I had felt boiling toward rage earlier was back again as I looked at the three Professors standing over Harry's bed. This had all happened because of them. They had ignored the signs-wait a minute, Snape was here! That meant that he couldn't have been the one who had gone through the trapdoor before us…
A feral noise escaped my throat as I approached the Professors. I knew Sally had suddenly backed away from me, and I could feel her eyes on me.
"Professors," I said, my voice low and angry, coiled like a snake and ready to strike. "What is the meaning of this?" I asked.
They all looked at me, appearing to have forgotten I was even there. Their thoughts had carried them far away from the Hospital Wing. Snape's face was a mask of cold impassivity; McGonagall looked tired and overwhelmed; and Dumbledore looked old and beaten.
"Ms. Granger," McGonagall responded, "I'm sorry-"
"You're sorry?!" I asked, incredulously. My temper was dangerously close to running away from me. "You think apologies can fix this?!" I nearly screeched. Snape was the first to overcome the shock at being addressed so insubordinately.
"Ms. Granger, you will show your Head of House the proper respect!" he demanded, eyes burning angrily into me. I met them without flinching. "That is ten points from-"
"Severus," the Headmaster interrupted. Snape looked at him, snapping his mouth shut. "Please see to it that more blood replenishing potions are brewed. Mr. Longbottom's treatment has depleted our stores."
The muscles in Snape's jaws worked as he stared at the Headmaster, but he eventually nodded. "As you wish, Albus," he said, and walked away from us, glaring at me on the way out. He disappeared around the corner of the doorway with a flick of his dark cloak.
"Hermione," Dumbledore said, and I could sense that he was trying to placate me. "You do not fully understand-"
That did it. Some internal switch flipped inside me and I was no longer Hermione Granger, the first year who respected authority. I was Hermione Granger, the first year who had just watched two of her friends fall. And all for what?
"WHAT? WHAT DO YOU MEAN I DON'T UNDERSTAND? WERE YOU THERE?" I screamed at him, nearly frothing at the mouth. McGonagall and Sally took shocked steps backward. Ron's eyes widened as he stared at me.
"No, of course not-" the Headmaster tried.
"THAT'S RIGHT. OF COURSE YOU WEREN'T THERE. YOU HAVEN'T BEEN THERE AT ALL THIS YEAR," I ranted, losing all sense of control as I finally vented the things that had been bothering me all year. "THERE HAS BEEN A DANGEROUS MAGICAL ARTIFACT IN THIS SCHOOL THE ENTIRE YEAR, AS WELL AS AN EXTREMELY DANGEROUS MAGICAL BEAST. THIS IS A SCHOOL! A BLOODY SCHOOL FOR CHILDREN! HOW CAN YOU JUSTIFY YOUR ACTIONS?"
I paused long enough to wait for some kind of response. My chest was heaving and I could sense some kind of disturbance within me, as if my magic had noticed my inner psychological turmoil and was reacting accordingly.
"Ms. Granger!" McGonagall said. Her voice was breathless. "You will not speak to the Headmaster-"
"I'LL SPEAK TO HIM HOWEVER I BLOODY WELL WANT TO!" I raged, cutting her off. Her hand flew to her chest as she took another step back. "MANY ACTIONS BY STAFF MEMBERS THIS YEAR HAVE BEEN COMPLETELY INEXCUSABLE, AND IT'S ABOUT TIME SOMEONE TOLD YOU TWO EXACTLY WHAT THEY THINK. THIS IS A SCHOOL FOR CHILDREN, FOR TEACHING, AND THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS WRONG THAT I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN.
"Firstly, the blatant favoritism professors like Snape show is absolutely out of control," I continued, though the volume of my voice had dropped a little. "The House Cup is a complete joke and so are many of our Potions classes. He shows a complete disregard for the best interests of any student not in Slytherin, which makes it nearly impossible to be productive in his class." Dumbledore was just staring at me, absorbing everything I said.
"There was NO ORIENTATION for students like me who had no knowledge of the magical world before last summer, and how do you think that made me feel? I was just thrown into this environment with no guidance, having to figure out many things for myself. And do you know how painful it was to realize that some students call you names and push you around JUST BECAUSE YOU DON'T HAVE TWO MAGICAL PARENTS? DO YOU KNOW HOW RIDICULOUS THAT IS? HARRY AND I ARE THE TOP TWO STUDENTS IN OUR YEAR, AND WE HAD NO KNOWLEDGE OF HOGWARTS OR THE WIZARDING WORLD BEFORE LAST SUMMER.
"The blood superiority complex so many people seem to have is obviously completely meaningless, yet it persists in these walls because students like Draco Malfoy are allowed to run around spouting it without any repercussions."
I looked at McGonagall, focusing my ire on her for a moment. "Do you remember when you told us that you didn't want any trouble with Malfoy this year? Why was that? Why wasn't he punished for the countless times he called me a Mudblood? Or for the many times he physically or magically assaulted someone in the halls? Snape always turned a blind eye, and because Hogwarts has that stupid policy where only the student's Head of House can administer punishment, NOTHING WAS EVER DONE. HOW ARE WE EXPECTED TO LEARN ANYTHING WHEN THAT KIND OF FAVORITISM EXISTS?"
I glared at them, collecting my thoughts. Dumbledore must have thought my tirade was over.
"Hermione…" he started, but I held up my hand.
"Oh no, I'm not finished yet," I said, hearing the hardness in my voice and not believing it was mine for a second. "I've only really touched upon the biggest problem, which is the whole mess with the Philosopher's Stone. Why, Headmaster? Why? How could you keep that in this school, knowing that all the wrong people were probably after it?"
"Hogwarts is the safest place-"
"IT WAS BAIT!" I screamed, advancing a few steps toward him. Pomfrey dropped her wand in shock at the level of my voice. Everyone in the room was now staring fixedly at me. I was a whirlwind of self-righteous anger, and I was not going to stop until it had burned itself out.
"IT WAS BLOODY BAIT FOR VOLDEMORT!" I continued, ignoring the flinches from the assembled people, with the exception of Dumbledore. "YOU KNEW THAT THIS COULD HAPPEN. YOU TOLD US THE NIGHT OF THE FOREST THAT THIS WAS A POSSIBILITY, YET YOU DID NOTHING!! NOT A BLOODY THING! HOW IS THAT RESPONSIBLE AT ALL? YOU'RE THE HEADMASTER OF THIS SCHOOL-YOUR DUTY IS TO PROTECT ALL OF US.
"YET HARRY AND THE REST OF US HAD TO GO AFTER THE STONE OURSELVES TO MAKE SURE IT WAS SAFE. DO YOU KNOW WHY HARRY HAD TO GO AFTER THE STONE? DO YOU?"
I waited for an answer. None was forthcoming.
"It was for his pa-parents," I told them, as my voice broke. I burst into tears, but I did not care. "It was because Voldemort killed his parents! He thought it was his duty to make sure Voldemort didn't use the Stone and return to full power. So naturally we all followed AND LOOK AT WHAT HAS HAPPENED. WE'RE ONLY FIRST YEARS! THIS IS TOTALLY UNACCEPTABLE AND I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT! THERE NEEDS TO BE SOME SERIOUS CHANGES HERE OR I DO NOT THINK I WILL BE ABLE TO RETURN TO HOGWARTS NEXT YEAR!"
The tears were still falling from my eyes as I finally stopped; my heart was pounding against my ribcage and my hands were clenched in fists of rage. I could not believe how many things were wrong with Hogwarts, or that it had taken so long for me to finally lose control. My last statement was not an empty threat, either-I knew I couldn't stay here if every year was like this. It was too much stress for my young body to handle.
"Surely you wouldn't withdraw?" McGonagall asked. Had she not heard everything I had said?
"And why not? Why would I want to stay here when my life and the lives of my friends are endangered EVERY SINGLE DAY?"
"Well-" she started.
"Are the exam results in?" I overrode her. She nodded mutely. "And how did I score?"
"Top in your year," she said. "And although all the results for the rest of Europe haven't come in yet, you likely scored highest across all of magical Europe."
I would celebrate that later. For now, I had to make my point. "I'm sure you wouldn't want to lose me, then," I said. "But if I have to, I fully intend to withdraw during the summer holiday. I don't want to come back to Hogwarts if I'm going to be treated like sullied garbage."
"I don't either," Sally said, speaking for the first time in several minutes. "Hermione's right. What's been happening here is ridiculous."
Silence stretched its hand across the Hospital Wing. I could almost hear my raised voice still reverberating off the walls. Some part of me was unable to believe that I had just yelled at the Headmaster and my Head of House, but I knew it was necessary. Two students had nearly died as a result of recent events-and those two students were my friends.
My eyes settled on Harry. I was doing all of this for him, really. He was an exceptional student with a horrible past that had followed to him Hogwarts, which was supposed to be a safe place to learn about the magical world. Instead, it was dangerous and filled with prejudice and discrimination. The more I thought about it, the less I wanted to spend the next six years here. Perhaps I could look into those other magical schools at which McGonagall had hinted when she revealed my scores.
Dumbledore sighed. My eyes slid back toward the Headmaster, and I saw him glance toward McGonagall.
"I am truly sorry that it has come to this," he said, sounding every bit as old as he actually was. "This was never my intention. I merely wanted to protect the Stone and prevent something horrible from happening, but it seems my plans have gone horribly wrong. I do not fault you for your outburst, Hermione, nor will I be punishing you for insubordination. Your Professors and I will take what you have said into consideration during the next few days. I do not want to lose you or your friends," he said, sounding uncharacteristically open and emotional. His eyes settled on Harry.
"You are all very talented and hardworking, and you have just done invaluable service to the school. Rest assured that I will not ignore what you have said here today. Minerva, if you will follow me?" he said, looking at her. He stood and headed for the exit, with McGonagall following him. They disappeared from sight and the doors closed of their own accord.
"I'll be in my office," Pomfrey said, quietly, glancing at me and then turning away. She shut the door, leaving me with my four friends, two of whom were unconscious.
"Scary," Ron said, nodding to himself. "Brilliant, but scary," he continued, repeating what he'd said earlier. I shook my head at him, smiling a little. I wiped my sleeve across my face, taking care of the lingering wetness of my angry tears.
"Merlin, Hermione," Sally said, moving closer to me and wrapping an arm around my back. "Who knew?"
"I don't know where that came from," I told her, laughing a little. It all seemed so surreal now, though nothing that I had said was any less important or real.
"I do," she whispered, nodding toward Harry's bed. I knew, deep down, that she was right. The lion in me had risen to defend my friends.
-------
After a time, when things had calmed and my heart rate had returned to normal, I realized that I did not know what had happened to Harry-or, more importantly, who had been ahead of us through all of those protections. Dumbledore had not revealed anything and I hadn't thought to ask. Harry would have to provide us with the information whenever he woke.
Ron had only stayed in bed for about an hour, eventually joining Sally and me between Harry and Neville. We had pulled some chairs between their beds so we could be close to both of them. Idle chitchat passed between us as we waited for them to come around. Madam Pomfrey had told us that it would only be a matter of time, and that we were lucky to still be with them. All other students-who of course already knew that something monumental had happened-were not allowed within fifty meters of the Hospital, but the Headmaster had allowed us to stay.
If he thought that small action would make up for all the problems of this past year, then he had another thing coming. I knew that I also wanted to speak with him about Harry's home life at some point, but that was an entirely different conversation than the one that had just taken place.
As the late evening turned toward night, Ron said he was sleepy. I expected him to return to the Gryffindor tower, but he instead laid down on one of the nearby beds.
"Just in case," he said, rolling away from us and pulling the sheet up. Within two minutes, soft snores were coming from his resting form.
Sally stretched and tilted her chair back, resting her head on Neville's bed and her feet on the edge of Harry's. It looked rather precarious, but I said nothing.
"Who d'ya think it was?" she asked. Her voice sounded tired.
"Ahead of us?" She nodded. "I dunno. If it wasn't Snape…then I really don't know."
"Could it have been Voldemort himself?" she wondered.
"I don't see how. He would have had to use the Stone to become corporeal again."
She looked at me; the low light of the Hospital Wing reflected off her eyes. "That's a big word, Hermione."
I smiled softly. "So sue me."
"So your tops in our year and across all of Europe?" she asked, playfully.
I blushed. "Erm, I suppose so."
"Oh, don't be so modest," she laughed, swatting my arm. "We all knew you would do amazing."
I was quiet for a minute, thinking about what she'd said. It was odd to have tacit support from kids I could call my friends; prior to this year, that had never happened to me. At least something good had come out of this mess.
"Thanks, Sally." She just smiled in return. And so time stretched on; Ron slept and Sally and I talked here and there about miscellaneous things, but mostly we were waiting for our boys to wake up. Finally, after what seemed like an endless wait, Harry stirred in his bed around two in the morning. Sally and I shot out of our seats and leaned over him.
"Urrghh," he articulated, stretching involuntarily and blinking owlishly at us. His eyes cleared and widened, and he quickly sat up. "Hermione! Sally! Where are the others! What happened?!" Then he squinted and blinked a few times. "And where are my ruddy glasses?"
"Right here, Harry," I told him, gently placing his glasses on his face. They had been on the nightstand next to his bed. He blinked a few more times, clearing his emerald eyes.
"Thanks," he breathed, now looking around the room. "Hospital Wing?"
I nodded. "Dumbledore brought you in," I told him, preferring to skip my tirade at the moment. "Neville's right there behind us and Ron's sleeping over there," I added, pointing. Harry glanced at them and back at us.
"Are they alright?"
"As well as can be," Sally nodded.
"Good," Harry sighed, relief filling his voice. He sagged a bit, only to sit straight again. "Hermione, Sally, it was Quirrell!" he whispered, furiously.
"What?" I asked, unable to process this new piece of information as quickly as I would have liked.
"It wasn't Snape-it was Quirrell all along," Harry said.
"Oh my…" Sally breathed.
I was shocked. Our bumbling Defense teacher had been the one after the Stone the whole year? But that didn't make any sense; we knew it wasn't Snape, but Quirrell?
"Quirrell was in the next room?" I asked.
Harry nodded. "He was waiting for me."
"What? Why was he waiting for you?" I questioned. None of this was making any sense. Harry opened his mouth to respond, but he closed it with a thoughtful look on his face.
"This will be easier with the Pensieve," he said. "Wake Ron and have him get it for us."
I nodded and did as he said. Ron was ecstatic that Harry was awake and he was just as curious about what had happened as Sally and me, so he left for the Gryffindor tower. Harry told him to take the Invisibility Cloak that Sally had lain at the foot of Neville's bed to avoid questions running into anyone. We waited in near silence for Ron's return, which was quicker than I was expecting. He was breathless as he set Harry's Pensieve on the bed, saying that he had run all the way there and back.
Harry concentrated briefly, putting his wand at his temple, and then withdrew the pearly memory. He deposited it into the shallow stone basin and swirled it with his wand. The evanescent light diffused around the Hospital Wing, then solidifying into an image: Harry emerging from the black flames into a large room with only two other things. They were Professor Quirrell and the Mirror of Erised.
We watched, transfixed by the events unfolding before us. I glanced at Harry a few times, to make sure he was handling this memory well, and he seemed to be studying it as hard as we were. After Quirrell and Harry discussed how Snape had actually been trying to prevent him stealing the Stone, the faux-Professor turned to the Mirror and said that it was the key to acquiring the Stone.
"I see the stone…I'm presenting it to my master…but where is it?"
"But Snape always seemed to hate me so much," Harry said, clearly trying to distract Quirrell.
"Oh he does," Quirrell responded, still staring intently at the Mirror. "Merlin, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father-didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead."
"I heard you a few days ago," Harry said. "You were sobbing."
Quirrell turned toward Harry; his face was tight and maybe even a little afraid.
"Sometimes I find it hard to follow my master's instructions."
"You mean Voldemort was there with you?"
"How dare you say his name!" Quirrell screamed, coming toward Harry for a moment. Then he seemed to
remember why he was there and turned back to the Mirror. "But yes, he is with me wherever I go. I met him when I
traveled around the world. I was only a foolish young man, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. The Dark Lord
showed me how wrong I was-there is no good and evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek
it…"
"Well, I think that's rubbish," Harry said. Quirrell rounded on him again. "The way we use our power makes us good or evil, or maybe even something in between."
Quirrell laughed; it was a high, cold sound. "Just as foolish as I once was, Potter."
"Only a fool would become Voldemort's servant," Harry retorted. His bravery was remarkable, considering he was bound by magical ropes and at the mercy of Quirrell.
The man ignored Harry, however. "What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!"
A raspy, whispery, malignant voice answered: "Use the boy…use Potter." It seemed to be coming from Quirrell, who summoned Harry to him and banished the ropes. Harry was positioned directly in front of the mirror. "What do you see?" Quirrell demanded.
Since this was Harry's memory, we could see what he saw in the Mirror. At first, he saw his own reflection, but Mirror-Harry then smiled at him. Mirror-Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, red Stone. He then dropped it into his pocket.
"I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," Harry lied. "I've won the House Cup for Gryffindor."
"Get out of the way, you ruddy useless excuse for a wizard!" Quirrell said, pushing Harry out of the way. Harry went for his wand as that other voice said something again.
"Potter lies," it said.
As Quirrell turned toward Harry with a snarl on his face, Harry raised his wand fired off a Stunner. Quirrell's hastily raised shield blocked most of the spell, but some of Harry's magic managed to strike the man, knocking him backward and off his feet.
"FOOL!" that other voice screamed. "YOU NEVER DISARMED HIM!"
Knowing that he was outclassed, Harry ran for it. Before he reached the exit, though, magical flames sprang up all around the room.
"Expelliarmus!" Quirrell shouted, which Harry dodged. They dueled for another minute, and Harry did very well, but Quirrell was too experienced and too powerful for him. Quirrell was curiously using non-lethal spells; Harry was using everything in his limited arsenal. Eventually, Harry found himself bound in magical ropes once again. Quirrell contemptuously kicked his wand out of reach.
"Let me speak to Potter," the voice said. "Face-to-face." Quirrell blanched but said nothing, instead reaching up to his turban and unwinding the fuscia cloth. It fell away and Quirrell turned on the spot, revealing the strangest and most horrifying thing I'd ever seen: another face was plastered to the back of his head, though it had slits for nostrils and red eyes.
"Harry Potter," it said, simply, and I knew without a doubt that it was Voldemort. The Dark Lord had been residing on the back of Quirrell's head all along.
"Do you see what I have become? Mere shadow and vapor. I have form only when I can share another's life force, but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds." Voldemort cackled, sounding every bit as malevolent as he was supposed to be. "Once I have the Elixir of Life, all of that will no longer matter. I will be able to create a body of my own."
Harry struggled against his ropes. "You'll never get the Stone!" he yelled. "You'll have to go through me first, you murderer!"
The face stretched into a rictus grin. "Very well. Quirrell, take the Stone from his pocket and then kill him. He has outlived his use, just as he has long outlived his undeserved fame."
Quirrell advanced upon Harry, who struggled mightily against the ropes binding him, but it was a futile effort. Harry kicked out as Quirrell came near, catching the man in the shins. Quirrell screamed in rage and pain, moving quickly and kneeling across Harry to stifle his movements. Harry had just enough slack to move his hands, and he grabbed Quirrell's arms before he could reach into his pocket and retrieve the Stone. Quirrell suddenly screamed even louder as some new pain enveloped him.
"What is this magic?!" Quirrell roared, backing away from Harry and staring at his arms. The flesh was literally melting away from the bones where Harry had touched him. The ropes binding Harry fell away, probably because Quirrell was too preoccupied with the disgusting thing that was happening to him.
"GET THE STONE!" Voldemort yelled.
"Master, I can't touch him!"
"Then kill him, you fool! KILL POTTER!"
Harry lunged for Quirrell, not waiting to see how Quirrell would respond to Voldemort's command. He grabbed Quirrell's face, knocking him over; they were writhing on the ground; Quirrell was trying to get Harry away from him; he had his hands around Harry's neck.
"MASTER!" he screamed. "MASTER, HELP ME! MY FACE-I'M DYING! MASTER…" He finally managed to push Harry away, but it was too late for Professor Quirrell. Parts of his skull were showing through the ragged flesh on his face. He sputtered a few times and then fell over, unmoving.
"NOOOO!" a primal scream of rage and anguish echoed through the room. "POTTER, YOU HAVE SPOILED MY PLANS ONCE MORE! IT'S TOO BAD YOUR PARENTS AREN'T HERE FOR ME TO KILL AGAIN! MARK MY WORDS, THIS IS NOT THE LAST TIME WE SHALL MEET! NEXT TIME I WILL KILL YOU, YOUR FRIENDS, AND ANYONE ELSE WHO GETS IN MY WAY!"
As memory-Harry's vision was fading due to magical exhaustion, a white vapor materialized from Quirrell's body. It rushed toward Harry, who threw up his arms, and then everything faded to black.
The Pensieve went dark and we stared open-mouthed at what we had witnessed. Harry had faced Voldemort and had survived once again.
"Oh, Harry!" I cried, moving along the bed and embracing my friend. He returned the embrace; Sally and Ron joined in soon thereafter, adding their support to what must have been a truly awful experience. After all, Harry had been forced to kill someone…
"So, is Quirrell…dead?" Ron asked, the first to break from the hug.
Harry nodded mutely.
"Harry," Sally said, "you did what you had to do. You shouldn't feel guilty about it."
"I know," he responded. "But I still don't like it."
"He was going to kill you," I told him. "There was nothing else you could do."
"I could have gone for my wand-I could have tried to Stun him!"
"You wouldn't have had enough time," I said, shaking my head.
"Hermione's right, Harry," Ron said, leaning forward and placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "He would have killed you. You did the only thing you could."
His shoulders sagged. "I guess so." His forlorn body language made me want to hug him again.
"Harry," I said instead, "Voldemort isn't gone forever, is he?" He met my eyes and began to shrug his shoulders, but a familiar voice interrupted our conversation.
"No, Hermione, unfortunately he is not."
We all turned to see the Headmaster standing behind us, looking better than he had the last time I'd seen him. His usual twinkle had returned to his eyes, though there was a certain gravity around him that had been absent.
"So You-Know-Who is coming back?" Ron asked.
Dumbledore sat on the end of Neville's bed. "Call him Voldemort, all of you," he said. "Always use the proper name for things. Fear of the name increases fear of the thing itself."
"Ok," Ron replied.
"As far as Voldemort is concerned, he is still out there somewhere, waiting for the chance to regain a body. Not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. Nevertheless, Harry, while you may have only delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems like a losing battle next time-and if he is delayed again, and again, he may never return to power."
"Why was it Harry in the first place?" Sally asked. "Why should Harry be expected to fight Voldemort?"
"A reasonable question, Ms. Perks, and unfortunately one that I do not currently know how to answer. In light of Hermione's recent comments, I shall be considering this question closely." Harry looked another question at me, but I motioned that I would explain later. We didn't need to relive my outburst with Dumbledore there.
"Sir," Harry said. Dumbledore looked at him. Harry then looked at all of us. "There some are things that I think we would all like to know the truth about." We all nodded, agreeing with Harry, even though we were unsure of exactly what he meant.
"The truth," Dumbledore said, softly, "is a beautiful and terrible thing. It should therefore be treated with extreme care. I shall answer as many of your questions as I can, only abstaining when I have a very good reason to do so. I will not lie to you, though."
Harry nodded. "Well…"
"Go on," I urged him. He smiled gratefully.
"Why did Voldemort go after me the first time? Why was he so concerned with my parents and me?
Dumbledore closed his eyes, shaking his head briefly. "This is unfortunately one of the questions that I cannot answer at this juncture. When you are all older," he said, "I will happily answer this. But for now, you should put it from your mind."
"Hiding more things from us?" I wondered. The Headmaster looked at me.
"Your minds are not yet equipped to protect the information," he said. "Otherwise I would tell you."
"Then how do we protect them?" Sally asked.
"Through a branch of mind magic called Occlumency, which is very difficult to learn and even harder to master. As I said, it would be best to put that question from your minds for now."
"Fine," Harry said, shrugging. I don't think I would have let the Headmaster off that easily, but I let Harry ask his next question.
"Why couldn't Quirrell touch me?"
"Your mother died to save you, Harry. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is the power of love. He did not realize that love as powerful as your mother's leaves its mark-to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved you is gone, is a kind of protection from Voldemort's type of magic that lasts forever. It is in your skin, your blood, your very magic… Quirrell, who was possessed by more than just hatred and greed and ambition, could not touch you because of that protection."
I reached for Harry's hand as Dumbledore spoke of his mother. This had to be very hard for him.
"How did you come by my father's Invisibility Cloak?" Harry asked, after a moment.
"James entrusted it to me when the three of you went into hiding. He knew it was useless against Voldemort, because, like me, he can see through the Cloak's charms. As a rather priceless magical artifact, he did not want it to fall into the hands of the enemy."
"Oh," Harry said, thinking over everything that had been said. Then he asked another question: "Quirrell said Snape-"
"Professor Snape," Dumbledore corrected. I cleared my throat, but the Headmaster ignored me. There was no reason why we should have to call that foul git a Professor. He didn't deserve the title, even if he had been trying to protect the Stone and Harry. He treated most of us like rubbish.
"Sure, him," Harry said, brushing off the correction. "Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father."
Dumbledore nodded. "They did detest each other-not unlike yourself and Mr. Malfoy, I suppose. Your father did something Professor Snape could never forgive."
"What?" Harry asked.
"James saved his life."
"What?"
"Funny the way people's minds work, I suppose," Dumbledore continued. "Professor Snape could not bear being in your father's debt, so he took it upon himself to protect you. Then he could go back to hating your father's memory in peace…"
"That's ridiculous," I interrupted, having had enough of this talk about Snape. "Harry is not his father, no matter how many times people say he looks just like James. Professor Snape should not be treating Harry any differently than the other students."
"Old grudges die hard," Dumbledore said.
"He needs to be more professional!" I demanded. A staring contest between me and the Headmaster ensued for several seconds. Harry cleared his throat.
"Just one more question, Professor," Harry said, giving me and the Headmaster a rather strange look. "How did I get the Stone out of the Mirror?"
Dumbledore smiled, and in the low light of the Hospital Wing, it made the years melt away from the Headmaster.
"Only someone who wanted to find the Stone, but not use it, would be able to retrieve it. Otherwise, they would only see themselves making gold or drinking the Elixir of Life. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, if I do say so myself," he concluded, humming merrily to himself for a moment. We all glanced at each other, smiling slightly at the Headmaster's kooky antics. I wondered if he actually was crazy.
"Oh dear," Dumbledore said. "It is nearly four in the morning. I suggest you all get some sleep. You have had a long day." He stood and started away, but then he stopped and half-turned toward us.
"You all have given me much to think about," he said, looking at me in particular. "Please know that I appreciate your work ethic, your independent spirit, and your tenacity." With that, he turned again and was gone.
"Ok, can someone tell what is going between you and Dumbledore?" Harry questioned, looking at me. I chuckled uneasily, remembering my earlier outburst.
"She's a scary one, Harry," Ron said. "Don't ever get her angry at you."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, still looking at me. I felt my cheeks heat up a little.
"Hermione told the Headmaster off," Sally explained. "She explained to him what a right foul git Snape has been, among many other things."
"If by explain you mean yell him into the next room, then yes," Ron said, looking smug.
"I think everything I said was reasonable," I defended myself.
"It was," Sally assured me.
"Can you show me?" Harry asked. He motioned toward the Pensieve, which was still lying between us on his bed.
"Sure," I said, only hesitating for a moment.
"Just concentrate on the memory and use your wand to pull it out."
I did as he instructed and deposited the glowing strand into the basin. He swirled it with his wand and we sat back as the earlier scene replayed itself before our eyes. My dulcet tones filled the Hospital Wing once again, though through the memory it was quieter than it had been.
After it had faded, Harry just stared at me. There was gratitude, sympathy, and a number of other emotions swirling in his eyes. He reached for my hand and squeezed it.
"Thank you, Hermione," he said. I thought I noticed a tiny tremble in his voice.
"For what? All I did was scream a bit."
"No," he corrected me. "You said everything that needed to be said, something I don't know if I could have done. So thank you."
"You're welcome."
"Did you really mean what you said?" Harry asked.
"Which part?"
"The part about withdrawing from Hogwarts."
I shrugged. "If it comes to that, then yes. There are plenty of other magical schools around Europe that would be happy to have us, I think. But I don't really want to leave here, not if I can help it. I suppose we'll just have to see what Dumbledore does."
"Thank you, all of you," Harry said.
"For what?" Ron asked.
"For being my friends."
----------
Neville woke up early that morning-Friday, June 5, 1992-and we filled him in on everything that had happened. He was understandably a little overwhelmed and said that it would take time to process everything, but he was glad that we were all alright and that Voldemort had been stopped. We complimented him on his bravery and were extremely happy that he had recovered so quickly.
It was inevitable that we would rejoin the school's general population, so later on Friday we all left the Hospital Wing. Sure enough, during the next week when the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. students were presenting their final projects, the five of us were inundated with question after question about what had happened. We answered them as best as we could, avoiding the more sensitive information about the Stone and Voldemort. Ron's brothers-the Twins-thought we had pulled off the mightiest prank imaginable, and they would not leave us alone.
Harry and I attended several of the presentations, with Sally, Ron, and Neville tagging along for some of them, but the magic was honestly over our heads. I could understand some of the theory, but not enough for the presentations to really mean much at that point.
Even though I had been told that I was top in my class, I was still nervous about the exam results, which came out on the morning of Thursday, June 11. They were flown into the Great Hall attached the legs of myriad owls. We all tore into the envelopes to see our scores. My score report looked like this:
Hermione Granger
First Year Final Exam Score Report
June 1992
O - Outstanding; E - Exceeds Expectations; A - Acceptable; P - Poor; D - Dreadful; T - Troll
A plus (+) sign indicates an exceptional performance.
Charms: Theory: O+
Charms: Practical: O
Transfiguration: Theory: O+
Transfiguration: Practical: O+
Potions: O
Defense Against the Dark Arts: Theory: O+
Defense Against the Dark Arts: Practical: O
Herbology: O
Astronomy: Theory: O+
Astronomy: Practical: O
History of Magic: O+
Class Rank: One
European Rank: One
Global Rank: Three
Congratulations on a job well done!
"Wow, Hermione," Sally breathed, next to me. "That's a lot of O's."
"Thanks," I responded, barely able to speak. I was ranked third in the world! Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined that I could do so well, especially considering I did not know about magic until only eleven months before.
"Merlin, Hermione," Neville said, looking at my score report. Sally had taken it from me and they were passing it around. "That's amazing."
"Well done!" Harry exclaimed, also looking at the parchment. "I expected no less!"
"We all knew she would this well," Ron said, focusing more on his breakfast than any of our scores. "Congrats, though."
"Thanks, Ron. And thanks everyone. Good job to all of us!"
It turns out that I was ranked first in our class, Harry was second, Sally was fifth, Neville was ninth, and Ron was fourteenth. All five of us were in the top half of our class. Harry was ranked fourth through all of Europe and tenth globally. It was not something I understood until later in life, but the five of us represented a formidable pool of magical and intellectual talent. Such talent could explain many of our successes against unfathomable odds during later years at Hogwarts.
In any case, the next week passed peacefully, though we were all still being asked questions about what had happened beneath the trapdoor. Rather fantastic versions of events had begun circulating amongst the students, and we did our best to refute the wildest ones, but it was harmless fun really.
We spent our days outside in the warm Highland sunshine, playing both Muggle and magical games with the other first years. It was nice to be free of schoolwork, stress, and the shadow of Voldemort, if only for a little while. That final week passed more quickly than I care to remember, and soon enough we were all seated on the breezy grounds for the graduation ceremony. Seventh years that I had only passed in the corridors walked across the stage, accepting their diplomas with smiles on their faces and proud parents in the audience. It was odd to think that, assuming I stayed at Hogwarts (which of course I did), I would be walking across that stage in six years. It seemed like a long time, but considering how fast my first year had slipped away, I knew that it would be upon me sooner than I expected.
The end of term feast was that night, which was Thursday, June 18. Every single student assembled in the Great Hall at the usual time, and we were not disappointed. The amount and diversity of food before us was incredible, and I think even Ron's legendary appetite was satiated by the end of the meal. The only thing that bothered any of us was the fact that the Great Hall was decorated in Slytherin green and silver, since they had won the House Cup. The last Quidditch match had been cancelled, defaulting the House Cup to Slytherin.
As the feast was winding toward its conclusion, Dumbledore stood from his chair walked to the winged podium at the front of the Great Hall, just in front of the head table. He raised his arms and silence fell over the gathered students, many of whom still had their graduation robes draped over their shoulders.
"Another year gone," the Headmaster started, sweeping over all of us with his bright blue eyes. "And what a year it has been-full of surprises, triumph, heartbreak, and ultimately bravery and loyalty."
He paused, letting us all consider his words. For some reason, I knew he was referring to Harry and the rest of us.
"As I understand, the House Cups now needs to be awarded." He was then briefly interrupted by cheers from the Slytherin table. "Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin. However, recent events must be taken into account."
If it were possible, the room became even more silent than before. The Slytherin students were no longer smiling.
"Firstly, and most importantly, I must tell all of you that I have been forced to take a hard look at what has been happening at Hogwarts. Change is not something I take lightly, especially in the face of traditions that have been in place more than a millennium, but when you return for another year in September, you will notice some changes throughout the school.
"The House Cup will no longer be awarded at the end of the year." Whispers and murmurs spread rapidly throughout the Hall. "Yes, you heard me correctly. House points will still exist, but they will only be used to reward, not to punish. They will be awarded for extraordinary work, and the House with the most points at the end of year will receive an exclusive dinner on the very last night with me and the rest of the staff.
"Also, I can tell you here and now that certain school policies will change, which in the past may have allowed the quality of teaching here at Hogwarts to slip below what I consider to be its most important legacy: unmatched magical education, anywhere in the world. Expect all of your classes and Professors to be held to the highest standard."
He took a deep breath. I looked at the rest of the Head table, and I noticed that Snape was scowling. It seemed as if he would no longer be able to treat Gryffindors like trash. I hoped what Dumbledore was saying was true. I hoped that he would stand by his words, because if he did, Hogwarts would be a better place and one in which I could remain for the next six years. I looked at Harry, Sally, Ron, and Neville, and we all nodded. It seemed as if my outburst had been worthwhile.
"Though this may mean very little to some of you, I am withdrawing my tenure as Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. Hogwarts is where my heart is, and it shall be where my focus remains for the rest of my life. I do not take lightly my responsibilities as Headmaster of this school, and recent events have forced me to reevaluate my position. So with all of that said, I do believe we are due for a change in our scenery!"
He clapped his hands, and the Slytherin decorations immediately disappeared, to be replaced with banners and streamers from every house. Crimson and gold, blue and bronze, yellow and black, green and silver-we were all represented. A spontaneous round of applause and cheer went up, and Dumbledore smiled brilliantly at all of us. He looked genuinely happy in that moment.
"Now," he continued, after everyone had settled down. "There are a few awards I must hand out before we all go our separate ways for the summer. Five, to be precise."
I felt my heart rate increase. I reached for Harry's hand, which closed over mine. He squeezed it, lending silent support.
"First, for showing exemplary courage and a most helpful attitude, I award a Special Services to the School plaque to Ms. Sally-Anne Perks!" The Gryffindors cheered the loudest as a very red-faced and embarrassed Sally made her way to the podium, where Dumbledore gave her the award. She nearly ran back to her seat.
"Second, for exuding bravery even in the face of certain danger, I award a Special Services to the School plaque to Mr. Neville Longbottom!" Again, our table cheered the loudest as Neville received the award.
"Third, for the best-played game of chess that Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award a Special Services to the School plaque to Mr. Ronald Weasley!" Ron looked absolutely floored. The twins were yelling that their mother would never let him live it down.
"Fourth, for the use of cool logic and sharp intellect all along, I award a Special Services to the School plaque to Ms. Hermione Granger!" Harry, Ron, Neville, and Sally cheered the loudest for me as I received the honor, but the other Gryffindors were nearly as boisterous. I couldn't help grinning hugely as I returned to my seat. It felt immeasurably good to be recognized, even if it was only fleeting.
"And finally," Dumbledore concluded, "for pure nerve, absolute selflessness, and incredible valor, I award a Special Services to the School plaque to Mr. Harry Potter!" The Great Hall went wild; the twins started a Potter! Potter! chant as he went to the front to accept his award. When he approached our table again, I wrapped him in a huge hug, and if anything, the noise in the Hall grew even louder. He was laughing and saying something that I couldn't hear over the din.
"What?" I yelled, leaning back and looking into his smiling face.
"Here's to us!" he shouted, and pumped the award into the air over his head. I hugged him again, glad that he could still act like a kid after all that had happened.
---------
After the boisterous and unexpected conclusion to the end of term feast, the last thirty-six hours of my first year were quite anticlimactic. We all went to bed feeling very good about ourselves that night; Dumbledore's speech about the expected changes still twirled around the back of my head, but I had all summer to think about what they really meant. For now, I was happy that he had actually listened to me, seeing as I was only a first year, and he was (supposedly) one of the greatest wizards to ever live.
The next day, which was the last day of the term, we packed and tried to spend as much time together as possible. At one point, I slipped away from the rest of them and headed for Dumbledore's office. There was something I needed to ask him before I left for the summer.
However, when I reached the gargoyle, I realized that I had forgotten the password. I huffed and stomped my foot in frustration. I think the gargoyle actually raised an eyebrow at me.
"Something I can help you with, Hermione?" I spun on the spot and saw that Dumbledore was approaching.
"Yes sir," I told him.
"Bertie Bott's," he said, and the gargoyle moved aside. I had no idea what that password meant, but I nonetheless followed him up the spiraling staircase and into his office. He directed me to one of the chairs in front of his desk.
"I hope what I said yesterday eased some of your worries," he told me, leaning back in his chair.
"They did, sir, and I wanted to thank you for taking what I said into consideration."
"It was hard not to," he said, smiling. I blushed, knowing that I would probably never get away with such a lack of restraint again.
"Sir…does Harry have to stay with his relatives for the summer?"
He cocked his head. "Why do you ask?"
"He said something about having to go back to them."
"It is prudent that he return to them, yes," Dumbledore replied, and when I opened my mouth to speak, he held up his hand. "However, he need not be there more than two weeks."
"So after those two weeks he could spend the summer wherever he wishes?"
"Yes. I assume you have something in mind?"
I nodded. "I was thinking that he could spend most of the summer at my house, though I think at some point we would go to Ron's. He also said something about all of us spending time at his house."
"If that is something Harry wants to do, I have no problem with it. After those two weeks, he is free to do as he pleases."
"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, why does he have to spend any time with them?"
He smiled again. "Always the inquisitive one. Suffice it to say that it is in his best interest to spend two weeks with his blood relatives."
Hearing his odd emphasis on blood, something clicked in my brain: "It's magic, isn't it? Some kind of magic that protects him?"
"Perhaps," he responded, twinkling enigmatically.
---------
The next morning-Saturday, June 20, 1992-we all boarded the Hogwarts Express for the journey home. The return to London was bittersweet, because we were leaving behind a place that had become a part of all of us, and we would be leaving our friends for at least part of the summer.
The trip was filled with stories about our exploits during the past year, which could be retold with humor and wonder now that the immediate danger had passed. Ron even cracked a joke about the white queen; it was actually very funny and had us all in stitches.
At one point during the train ride, I looked slowly around the cabin; it held me, Harry, Neville, Ron, and Sally. They had become my best friends during our first year, and I never, ever wanted to lose them. Harry was on my right and Ron was on my left, so I threw my arms over their shoulders. Sally smiled at me and put an arm over Neville's shoulder.
"What's this for?" Ron wondered.
"It's for us," I told him. "For all of us. Whatever happens, we have each other. Right?"
"Right," they all said.
"Good!" I exclaimed, pulling Ron and Harry toward me. "Even if next year isn't quite as…adventurous as this one has been, it will still be amazing with all of you."
"Cheers!" Neville replied, laughing and smiling.
"Cheers," Harry said, with wonder and acceptance and gratitude in his voice. "Friends forever?" he asked.
"You know it," Ron said.
"Friends forever," I repeated.
As all journeys must, ours came to end as the Hogwarts Express pulled into Platform Nine and Three Quarters. I saw my parents waiting for me by the exit.
"Stay in touch, all of you," I said. "In a few weeks, we should all get together at my house."
"Sounds good!" Sally said.
"I'm in," Neville added. Ron and Harry nodded.
"And after that, I'd like to bring you all to the Burrow. I'm sure my parents would love to meet everyone. And there's loads to do there, too," Ron said, as we moved toward the exit with our luggage.
"This summer won't be so bad, then," Harry commented. "If we're all getting together, then we'll be back at Hogwarts before we know it."
"Ronnie!" a voice suddenly called, and I laughed as Ron's face turned dark red. A woman who must have been Mrs. Weasley rushed over to him and wrapped him in her arms.
"Mum!" he protested, trying to escape her embrace. Neville and Sally said their final good byes through their laughter. Sally headed for her smiling parents, which I was glad to see, and Neville headed toward his grandmother. She was the same woman I had seen at the very beginning of the year.
The rest of the Weasleys gathered around us. Ron's younger sister was there as well, but she stood quietly and shyly behind her mother.
"Busy year, all of you?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"Come on, show her," Fred urged.
"Yeah, do it, ickleronniekins!" George added.
"Don't call me that!" Ron retorted.
"Show me what?" Mrs. Weasley asked, suddenly sounding wary.
"Only his Special Services to the School award!" Percy finished. Mrs. Weasley's eyes went wide.
"My Ronnie got one of those?!" she screeched, pulling him into another embrace.
"Geroffme!" I heard him say, somewhere in his mother's abdomen. I laughed and turned away with Harry, calling my goodbyes over my shoulder.
We stopped halfway toward my parents, who waved at us. Harry's relatives were nowhere in sight.
"They're not here yet?" I asked.
"No, but they will be. We got in a little earlier than I told them to expect us."
"Ok," I shrugged. "If you say so."
"See you soon, then?" he asked, turning toward me and taking my hand.
"Of course, Harry!" I responded, wrapping him in my arms. It had become quite common for Harry and me to hug each other. I vaguely wondered what that meant.
"I'll write soon."
"Me too," I said.
He smiled at me. "Thank you, Hermione."
"Thank you, Harry."
We just stared at each other, mutually understanding that no words could express our gratitude for the other. Our first year together had ended and I was looking forward to many long years of friendship…and, as some tiny but powerful voice deep within my heart was telling me, perhaps even something more. Only time would tell.
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