Two teenagers walked down a hallway in silence. Only one set of footsteps echoed softly along the deserted area and seemed to travel down the endless empty distance. The girl`s eyes travelled around her surroundings, exploring and observing every arch and corner yet always aware of the figure beside her. How his brows had been furrowed in a slight frown not long after they left the Great Hall, how he would run his left hand through his messy raven hair occasionally, even how his thumbs had been slowly rubbing down on his index fingers. Judging from the faraway look in his eyes, she doubted that he himself noticed what he was doing. Storing her observations into memory, she bit her lip slightly as she wondered what could be on his mind...
"Crabbe, Goyle! Hurry up, will you? I can't stand Pansy at breakfast. God forbid, especially not the first day."
Hermione looked up at the echo that resounded through the hallway. The voice did something to her. It was like what she read in the books, her heart skipped a beat when she recognised who it was. It was Draco. Draco was here.
A quick sideward glance told her that Potter too had heard him. Despite her inner excitement, Hermione observed that he had lost that faraway look in his eyes, now replaced by a look of, by what it looked to be a mixture of irritation and resignation.
The footsteps were approaching. Hermione could identify Draco's almost immediately - light and almost silent, save for that barely noticeable drag on his left leg. His footsteps were accompanied by two others which were heavy and clumsy. Those must be Crabbe and Goyle. They were coming in their direction. That odd jiggle of excitement that she was feeling grew.
She took another quick check at her company. His eyes have changed as she had observed. Although his expression was as unreadable as before, she could detect how his jaw had firmly set, how his eyes have hardened, how his overall expression had tensed up slightly. As his features changed subtly, Hermione felt the atmosphere change. From a relatively comfortable (as comfortable as she could get with Potter) feel, she suddenly felt tension building, a cold and unfriendly mood creeping in slowly. Hermione frowned as the bubble of excitement that was expanding in her burst unceremoniously, replaced by a deep discomfort.
"We're here."
Hermione blinked at a stone gargoyle, her thoughts about Potter coming to an abrupt halt. Rearing its wings, its teeth were bared in a silent roar. Her brows knitted together into a deeper frown as she stared down at the ferocious guardian of the headmaster's office. It seemed to be a sign that screamed out to her that she was not welcome, an omen roaring out that whatever that was waiting for her inside was not going to be pleasant. A sideward glance to Potter told her that his attention was now on her, his eyes intently watching her. Immediately, her frown cleared and was replaced by her usual expressionless face.
Glancing in the direction of where Draco's voice had come from, Potter started to say that she should be going in, in order - for what, she would never know. Because before he could finish the sentence, a strong but silky voice had cut in.
"In trouble already, Potter? Within twelve hours of arriving at Hogwarts? That must be a record."
Both of them turned to see Draco Malfoy walking up to them with his characteristic smirk, flanked by Crabbe and Golye.
"You got the new girl into the mess too?" Malfoy shook his head in amusement as he let out a mocking chuckle that signalled accompanying sniggers from behind him. "How do you manage it?"
"Shut it, Malfoy."
Potter had stepped forward, slightly obstructing her view of Draco. Instinctively, she moved her head to get a better position. A lazy smile played on his lips as their eyes met slightly above Potter's shoulders. Hermione's attention was fixed ahead and failed to take note of what she would usually notice immediately - Potter's shoulders had visible tensed up at the exact same moment his school rival had shifted his eyes to meet hers and let out that charming smile of his.
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"You're the new girl."
Everyone present knew he said it as a statement, not as a question. Harry knew it and `New Girl' behind knew it too, since she said nothing in reply. He could not vouch for Malfoy's two goons though, who just stood there dumbly as they had in the past six years.
"I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy." Malfoy said, his eyes never breaking with hers.
God, Harry thought to himself, how un-creative could he get? He used that line six years ago. On him! Stupid Malfoy. But of course, she wouldn't know that. She wasn't in Hogwarts six years ago.
Of course she would fall for that stupid line.
"Hermione Granger."
Harry closed his eyes as he heard her soft yet clear voice from behind him. Five seconds with him and she gave her name right away. He had spent more than five hours with her and all he got was ... mostly silence and about six words. Harry could barely squelch that unreasonable feeling of indignation building up with him as he watched the two of them. He wanted to smack that irritating smirk of Malfoy's face. No, he wanted to shove Hermione Granger here straight into the office, then smack Malfoy's face. But he could not say the password yet, not when there were other unnecessary people around. The thought of it was getting more tempting by the second, and his resolve was ebbing away quickly as he watched his school rival smiling away at her.
"Pity you got sorted into the wrong house. You should ask for a re-sorting later." Malfoy nodded at the gargoyle behind him. "You don't want to be stuck with a bunch of ... idiots like Scarhead here."
As he said this, his cold-grey eyes shifted to meet his directly, a mocking smirk twisting his features to taunt him. Resolve, Potter. Remember your resolve. He returned his stare with equal intensity.
"At least she's not with blocks of wood," he glanced behind Malfoy, "and animals like ferrets and snakes." He replied coolly. Internally though, he was feeling almost the exact opposite.
He watched in mild satisfaction Malfoy's eyes narrowed hatefully at his reply. Crabbe and Goyle simply continued standing there without any change in expression. Behind him, he could not notice any obvious reaction without turning around.
But he couldn't turn around.
Because about two seconds after his scathing reply left his lips, a nagging thought surfaced deep in him. Why was he so bothered? By turning around, it meant that he accepted the answer that was peeking through. It was an answer that he did not want to admit. He didn't even want to think about what it was. All he knew was that by turning around, it signified things; things that he was not supposed to do, to have... to think of. No, he wouldn't turn around. He rooted his feet to the ground, his body stiffened to face Malfoy, fighting against his temptation to turn around. His eyes stubbornly locked with Malfoy's ahead, not that he was making it difficult at all. He was glaring back at him with contempt, a look that Harry was all too familiar with.
All his other senses though, were high on the alert to pick up on anything behind him. His ears picked up a soft grinding sound, a movement by something aside from Hermione, and a new person joining the crowd outside the Headmaster's office.
"Ah, Ms Granger! Good Morning."
It was the Headmaster himself, Professor Dumbledore.
Upon hearing his greeting, Harry promptly broke the staring competition that he and Malfoy were having and turned around. Dressed in deep purple robes, Professor Dumbledore looked regal yet familiar. After all, he had been seeing him all summer. His kind blue eyes swept across each and every one of them, acknowledging all present.
"I believe I had only requested for Ms Granger. "
Harry inwardly smirked as he watched Malfoy get disconcerted upon hearing what Professor Dumbledore said.
"Professor McGonagall had to give out the timetables. She asked me to bring her here." He explained, looking pointedly at Malfoy after that.
"I thank you for your trouble, Harry." His blue-eyed gaze shifted to Malfoy. "And Mr Malfoy? Is there anything that I can help you with?"
"No, Professor. We were on our way to breakfast. Just stopped to welcome Hermione here," he shot another charming smile to her as he addressed her in that silky voice of his, to Harry's great annoyance, "to Hogwarts."
"That is very thoughtful of you, Draco."
Harry could see the sincerity and serenity in his eyes, as though a grandfather was talking to his grandson. He was amazed. He was sure that Professor Dumbledore knew everything about Malfoy, how could he still treat him with such sincerity was beyond his own understanding. Of course, unless Professor Dumbledore was just a really really good actor, but Harry doubted so. It was a wisdom that he had, discipline and principles that he possessed that allowed him to treat everyone the way he did - with respect. Harry wondered if he himself could reach that level when he was Professor Dumbledore's age. At this, Harry realized he had no idea how old his Headmaster was. And there he was, thinking that he was quite close to him.
"But I'm afraid that I'll need some time alone with Miss Granger here. Perhaps all of you could have your breakfast first. I hear that the house elfs have prepared delicious pancakes today!" Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in merriment.
Then again, maybe he should ask about his age another time instead. Harry smiled at Professor Dumbledore, which faded a little when he laid his eyes on her. She stood there silently, with her expressionless face as usual, which somehow seemed to frustrate him even more. He briefly glanced back at the trio behind him, before walking off in the opposite direction of the Great Hall.
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It would be so easy, Hermione thought to herself as she walked silently behind Albus Dumbledore, almost too easy to kill him, right now.
But. It was not her mission, she reminded herself as she stepped into the lighted office of the Headmaster. Immediately, her senses shot out to check the unfamiliar environment. She was looking for an emergency escape route, looking for any sources of danger, looking for simply anything out of the ordinary. But as she grasped her surroundings, she realized that almost everything was out of the ordinary.
The phoenix was the first to catch her attention. It stared plaintively at her from its perch, unmoving and silent. Hermione was fascinated by it. She had never seen a real phoenix before, only reading about it on books. Her eyes took in every detail; every single feather, the sleek red coat, the graceful arch of its neck. It had a regal air around it as it stood there proudly... elegantly. Its pearl black eyes just gazed at her but she felt as though it was seeing beyond her physically, but scrutinising everything part of her, inside out. Suddenly, it blinked, breaking the eye contact between them. Opening its beak, the phoenix let out a long lasting note that seemed to just hang in the air. The sound gave her a tranquil feeling, which calmed the nerves that she had been controlling ever since she stepped into the room.
"Thank you, Fawkes."
Dumbledore had said it quietly. But despite the gentleness in his voice, the peaceful note in the air was still broken. It brought Hermione's attention back and she realized that he had already sat down behind the large mahogany table piled with odd things, books and scrolls.
"Please take a seat, Ms Granger." He said pleasantly from behind his table.
Hermione took the seat directly opposite him, and looked at him expectantly. She knew he did not call her in to welcome her to Hogwarts. She trusted her instincts, and her instincts told her that he knew something.
"Lemon drop?"
She just wished he would get to the point fast.
"No, thank you." Hermione replied evenly, without removing her gaze on him.
She watched him calmly take one for himself, close the container then slowly put his hands together, rest his elbows on the armrest as he leaned back into his chair. Only when he was settled, did his clear blue eyes meet hers square ahead.
"I know your secret, Ms Granger."
Those few words struck her, like a cold heavy knife stabbing deep into her. But her exterior remained emotionless, not letting a single thing away, just as she had been trained. She calmed herself in a matter of moments. It did not mean that she was exposed. It merely meant that he did, in fact, know something. She just did not know what.
"I'm afraid I have too many, Sir." She responded, unfazed. "Which one are you referring too?"
Dumbledore let out a small smile.
"Yes, youngsters nowadays do have many secrets. I know just one, Ms Granger. This one."
Without him moving an inch, the glass orb that had been resting atop one of the thick volumes of books on his table floated steadily up, right in front of her eyes.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Wandless magic?"
"Oh no, Ms Granger. Every witch and wizard is capable of doing wandless magic, to a certain extent. I have no doubt of your wandless magic capabilities." His blue eyes twinkled behind his spectacles playfully. The orb hung in the air unmoving during the entire time he was talking. Superb control and focus, she observed.
"This is not a simple wandless levitation charm, Ms Granger."
She eyed the glass orb in front of her, the swirl of colours in it brought out beautifully by the sunlight shining in from outside. But Hermione was not interested in that. Her senses reached out to the orb, feeling around it, looking for magical traces. None. Hermione frowned in confusion, her emotion showing for the first time since she stepped into the office.
She glanced back at the Headmaster, who sat in his chair gazing intently at her, the amused glint still in his eyes. Her hand came up to reach for the orb. Her fingers lightly touched the smooth surface of the glass. Slowly, her fingers slid down towards the bottom of the orb. Then she felt it.
The slight disturbance in the air around the orb. There was a layer of air that surrounded the orb. Her fingers spread around the orb to hold it and she felt the layer vanish, the weight of the glass orb suddenly pressing into her palm. The air was holding the orb up in the air!
Her eyes shot to look at him in shock and surprise. His face now carried a genial smile, he knew that she had figured it out.
"You are an air elemental too?" She asked, almost breathless in her new find.
She had never met another one like her. She had always thought she was the only one. Elementals were rare, never had she ever thought that she would ever meet someone like her.
"Yes, Ms Granger. I am an air elemental like you." He said patiently. "I sensed you last night at the Sorting Ceremony."
"Sense me? I didn't sense anything." No wonder he had been staring at her during the Ceremony the night before.
"Your abilities aren't developed enough yet, your elemental senses are not honed to detect another." He explained calmly. He leaned forward, his elbows moving from the armrests onto the table.
"You need training, Ms Granger. I only ask to allow me to guide you as you learn to control and master this ability of yours."
At that, she became guarded and alert again. She still did not know for sure that that was his true intentions. "I don't need training. I can control the element already. I don't need your help."
All her trainings when she was young never included training her elemental abilities, simply because there were no other elementals around to train her. All that she had mastered were experimented by herself.
"Do you believe that, Ms Granger? Your abilities can be dangerous if you do not control it properly." He said knowingly as he looked at her behind his half-moon spectacles.
Memories of all the incidents when she had been provoked or upset came up. Maia had a tough time raising her, because of her lack of control. When she was young, her abilities would go out of control whenever she got into a tantrum. A particular incident came up amongst her memories. During one of her trainings, she had been frustrated and angry. When she was provoked by one of the Death Eaters, she lashed out. A huge whirlwind came out of nowhere, sweeping everyone except for her around the room. Draco had been in the room as well. As a result of her tantrum, she had injured him. He landed hard on his left leg and broke his ankle and knee severely. That injury took ages to recover and caused him so much pain. It had never fully recovered; that was the injury that caused him to have a very slight limp on his left leg. It was not noticeable to everyone, but never to her. She was always reminded of it whenever she heard his footsteps.
She sighed resignedly. Looking back up at the Headmaster, she asked quietly.
"How do you propose to train me?"
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