Her Story: Philosopher's Stone by I Heart Harry

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 28/01/2011
Last Updated: 12/12/2011
Status: Completed

With the end of the Harry Potter era drawing near, two girls at the locally owned bookstore Just
Imagine stumble across a bundle of journals entitled 'Her Story'. Join Lindsay and Karen as
they spend their evenings huddled in a cramped break room reading from the journals of one Hermione
Granger.




1. Prologue: End of an Era
--------------------------



**Prologue**

**“End of an Era”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit.**

**Note One****:** **Hello there! Before we jump into the good stuff, there are a couple
things I would like to address.**

**First and most importantly:** **I am planning on rewriting all the books in Hermione's
POV. It's going to take a** **lot** **of commitment, dedication, and time on my part and
it will** **only** **continue on if I have you readers as support and to keep me
motivated.**

**Secondly:** **I will follow the books loosely up to a certain point, and then things will
take a different twist. New characters, situations, etc. will be introduced and I hope you enjoy
them when the time comes.**

**EDITED 06/11/2011:** **I'm changing how the dates are set up in the story since
it'll make things easier for us all.**

**WE WILL JUST ACCEPT THAT THE SECOND HP MOVIE WILL COME OUT IN JULY OF 2016. OK? OK!**

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**3 July, 2016**

Lindsay Homer broke down the last of the cardboard boxes and stacked them neatly in a pile on
top of the trolley. With a victorious grin, she arched her back and groaned, hearing some of her
bones crack. She was proud of herself, managing to restock a good portion of the fiction section
(which was, to Lindsay's dismay, mostly teen vampire romance) and cleared a spot to put out a
new series that was being released the next day. It shouldn't have taken as long as it did, but
the person who was supposed to help Lindsay with the huge stack of books was sitting on top of the
counter, watching the television that was hanging in the corner.

“So we're done, then?” Karen Lays asked, not taking her eyes away from the television.

“*I'm* done, you did nothing.” Lindsay pointed out, grabbing the handle of the trolley.
“All this could have been done over an hour ago if you had just gotten up and helped me.”

“You were doing fine on your own.” Karen said dismissively, turning up the volume. Lindsay
tsk'd and stalked off towards the storeroom, pulling the trolley behind her. She propped open
the door with an unopened box and began to put the pile of cardboard in the compactor at the back
of the room.

Lindsay had worked at the locally owned bookshop Just Imagine for a little over a year now and
was still in love with the job. Her initial plan was to just work there for the summer to save up
some spending money before she went off to university, but after the summer was over she
couldn't bring herself to leave. She also met and befriended Karen, another university student,
on her first shift. They were hired around the same time and quickly bonded over their love of
books (*Harry Potter* and *The Mortal Instruments* being two of the series they both
loved).

Lindsay had reluctantly admitted that when she found out the owner's last name was Potter
she really wanted the job just for that fact. Expecting Karen to laugh at her, she was surprised
when Karen admitted to being the same way. After that little bought of nerdiness, the two girls
became great friends.

Finished putting away the cardboard, Lindsay kicked the box holding the door open out of the way
and headed back into the main room. Karen had not moved from her spot on the counter, and was
leaning slightly towards the television. “So what's so interesting that it's keeping you
from doing your job?” Lindsay asked, coming up beside Karen and leaning on the counter.

“*…and with the final Harry Potter instalment being released at the end of the week, let's
take a look back at the little café where a young woman started it all…*”

“They're really going all out on this one, aren't they?” Lindsay commented as pictures
of the café where J.K. Rowling wrote the *Philosopher's Stone* flashed across the screen.
The channel had been showing documentaries about the books and making the movies all day.

“Well it *is* the end of an epic story that's only one of the most popular books of all
time.”

The little bell above the door jingled as it opened. Karen sprang off the counter, turning
around and wiping the spot where she was sitting as if there was evidence she sat there all
afternoon. Laughing at her friend, Lindsay looked up and saw Mrs. Potter and her son walk into the
shop, her son carrying two large boxes.

“Evening, Mrs. P,” Lindsay greeted, turning down the volume on the television, “Ryan.”

“Good evening, Lindsay.” Mrs. Potter smiled warmly at the girls as she set her purse down on the
counter. Mrs. Potter was a woman in her mid-thirties with thick brown hair and had an almost
unhealthy obsession for books. “Karen, what have I told you about sitting on the counter?”

Karen flushed with shame and looked away. Lindsay grinned. Mrs. Potter had an uncanny knack of
knowing when the two girls (mainly Karen) were doing something they weren't supposed to. They
didn't get in trouble since they did get their jobs done, but Mrs. Potter always guilt tripped
the two of them like only a mother could.

“What are those?” Lindsay asked nodding towards the boxes Ryan was carrying.

“I forgot these when I brought the other books over,” she said, instructing Ryan to put them
down by the counter. “You don't have to get them all out tonight,” she laughed, seeing Lindsay
and Karen's distraught expressions, “these are just some extra copies of *Bite Me*. I
expect we'll sell out tomorrow and it would be a good idea to have extras just in case.” The
books that Just Imagine sold were always sent to Mrs. Potter's house first. It was something
she started when the shop first opened and it just stuck as the shop got more and more popular.

“I don't understand why parents let their children read this vampire porn,” Karen scoffed,
going over to the first box and yanking it open. Mrs. Potter gave Karen a disapproving look. “What?
It is.” Lindsay and Ryan snorted as she grabbed a copy of *Bite Me* and held it up, making a
face at the cover - a gothic looking male leaning over a woman in a crimson red dress with a
corset. The words *Bite Me* were written in blood red and were made to look like blood was
dripping down onto the cover.

Mrs. Potter tutted and shook her head as she snatched the book out of Karen's hands, “Ryan
dear, can you put the boxes in the storeroom for me, please?”

“Sure, mum.”

Mrs. Potter placed the book delicately back into the box as Ryan heaved the two boxes into his
arms. As he passed by, Lindsay couldn't help herself and snuck a peak at him. Once he
disappeared through the storeroom doors, she tore her eyes away only to find Mrs. Potter smirking
knowingly at her.

Lindsay felt her face heat up and rushed off to go clean up the isles as Karen, who had saw what
had happened, cackled gleefully.

**<><><>**

**4 July, 2016**

With the release of *Bite Me*, Just Imagine was the busiest it had ever been for a good
couple of months. Karen, Lindsay, and another co-worker Adam were the only ones working the shop
that day. Mrs. Potter's younger children had just come back from the private schools they went
to and she was taking the day off to spend time with them.

“Lindsay can you go get more copies of *Bite Me*?” Adam called from the front. Lindsay, who
was cleaning up after a group of girls had knocked down a Jane Austen display, looked towards the
fiction section and saw that there were only a few copies left of *Bite Me* left on the shelf.
Shaking her head, she left the stack of *Pride and Prejudice* on the floor and hurried to the
storeroom to get more.

Ryan had placed the boxes on a trolley near the back beside the compactor. Sighing, Lindsay
manoeuvred her way through the unopened boxes, shifting some of them out of the way with her foot
to make a path back to the door. She reached the first box and lifted it up onto the second one.
Grabbing the pen that was being held up in her ponytail, Lindsay stabbed the packaging tape that
held the cardboard flaps together and yanked it towards her. Once the box was open, she began to
pile copies of *Bite Me* into her arms.

The sound of boxes being shuffled around made Lindsay pause. She looked over her shoulder to see
if Karen was hiding in there, but then remembered that Karen was helping Adam at the cash register.
Lindsay let it go and continued to pile books into her arms. When she felt her arms start shake
from the weight of the books, she straightened up and began to shuffle back to the door.

A loud crash made Lindsay shriek, jump, and drop half of the books she was carrying. Cursing,
she spun around to see that the tall stack of boxes by the compactor had toppled over onto the
boxes that carried the copies of *Bite Me*.

“Are you okay?” Karen asked, poking her head into the storeroom.

“I'm fine,” Lindsay replied. She bent down and began to pick the copies of *Bite Me*,
“You heard that?”

“The entire shop heard it,” Karen entered the storeroom and took the books from Lindsay.
“I'll take these out. You should probably clean up in here.”

Lindsay thanked Karen and watched her go back out into the main room. She looked over to where
the boxes fell and sighed. If the boxes had fallen when she was getting the books, she probably
would've been seriously injured. Workmen's Comp wasn't something she could live off of,
either.

She got up off the floor and made her way back to the back of the room, groaning when she saw
that some of the cardboard boxes had been ripped open from the fall. Books lay scattered across the
floor and on the trolley, some of the paperback novels had their covers bent at odd angles. Mrs.
Potter would've had a stroke if she saw the damage some of the books had taken.

Lindsay bent down and quickly began to make piles of the books, trying to stack the ones that
were the same in their own piles. Thankful that she didn't start the compactor the previous
night, she reached in and grabbed a stack of cardboard and quickly made some makeshift boxes. She
worked quickly, praying that Mrs. Potter wouldn't decide to show up to see how everyone was
doing.

The muffled chatter from out in the shop grew louder, letting Lindsay know that it was around
lunch time which meant their rush was about to start. Not looking forward to the shop being even
busier than it already was, Lindsay shoved the books into the boxes and placed them on the trolley,
deciding that she would fix things when the shop died down. She grabbed a few more copies of
*Bite Me* and hurried out of the storeroom.

Lindsay didn't have time to go fix up the storeroom until it was time for Just Imagine to
close. She couldn't believe how many people bought that stupid vampire book! Her and Karen had
scoffed and told Mrs. Potter when she ordered two hundred copies that she was going overboard. But,
surprisingly, they nearly sold out.

“I guess it's a good thing that teenagers are reading,” Karen relented. She and Lindsay
agreed to clean up the shop first (it was a mess and they were so busy during the day that they
didn't have time to tidy up) then tackle the books in the storeroom. Adam was just ringing up
the last of the customers and then he had to go to his aunt's birthday dinner. “I just wish
they had better taste.”

“It's just a phase,” Lindsay shrugged, handing Karen a couple books and watching as she put
them away. “In five years there'll be something new that everyone will be writing about.”

It took a little over half an hour for Lindsay and Karen to clean up the shop. By the time they
were finished, they both were working into overtime. They didn't care; Lindsay knew that if
Mrs. Potter came to work tomorrow and saw how everything was stacked they'd be in trouble. She
could tell that Karen felt the same way - she hadn't complained once about having to do actual
work.

Adam finished up cleaning his area and called out to the girls that he was leaving. After saying
goodbye, the two dimmed the lights, locked the door, and made their way into the storeroom.

“We really need to organize this place,” Karen moaned, pushing some of the boxes out of the way
so she could sit on the ground.

Lindsay grabbed the first box that she placed on the trolley and cursed as the bottom of the box
burst open. The books that were inside the box crashed to the floor, narrowly missing Karen.
“I'm sorry!” Lindsay cried, “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” she replied, grabbing the ones that fell nearest to her and stacking them
up.

“We should get all the books together first and then pack them,” Lindsay said, grabbing another
box - by the bottom this time - and placing it beside her. “It'd be a pain in the ass if we
packed them up and then had to search through all of them.”

The two of them silently began to work, only speaking if they had a copy of the series the other
was collecting. Twenty minutes later, there were piles of books surrounding the two girls. Karen
got up, announcing she was going to the front to grab some packaging tape and a marker and left the
storeroom. Lindsay hopped up and grabbed a few more stacks of flattened cardboard, making them into
boxes.

“Here we go,” Karen returned, tossing the roll of tape to Lindsay. “I got some paper too so we
could have a list of what books are in what box. That should some win points with Mrs. P.”

Lindsay laughed and began taping the bottom of the cardboard boxes she had made earlier while
Karen wrote down the book's name, author, and quantity that would be in the box.

“So,” Karen began, handing Lindsay a stack of *What to Expect When You're Expecting*,
“Mrs. P caught you checking out Ryan.”

“Shut up.” Lindsay muttered, feeling her face burst into flame.

Karen burst into laughter and clapped her hands excitedly. “Oh you should've seen your face
when you realized she caught you!” she cackled.

“*Shut up*.” she repeated, grabbing more books and stuffing them in the box. She shoved the
box at Karen and then grabbed another one.

“I don't blame you,” she said, taping the piece of paper to the side off the box, “that Ryan
is one fine looking man.”

“I guess so.” Lindsay agreed.

“You guess so?” Karen said incredulously, “Lindsay, the man is walking sex. That messy brown
hair, those eyes, those *abs*…”

“Okay fine, he's gorgeous. Happy?”

“Very.”

“And how would you know what his abs looked like?”

“A girl can dream…” Karen sighed. “What's that? Do I detect jealousy in your voice?”

Lindsay rolled her eyes and pushed the now full box towards Karen. “We're going to need
bigger boxes.”

“Go look for some then.”

Lindsay passed the roll of tape to Karen, stood up, and walked over to compactor. Unfortunately,
the extra cardboard in there had been crushed and bound with plastic. She manoeuvred her way
through the boxes to the other side of the room where there were some open boxes. Peeking into the
box, Lindsay saw that there was only a black leather journal in there. She pulled the journal out,
placed it on the shelf beside her, and picked up the box.

“This should be big enough,” Lindsay said, dropping it in front of Karen.

Since the box was twice as big as the boxes they had been using, Lindsay and Karen decided to
empty the last box they had packaged and add the books to the bigger one. Leaving Karen to pack up
the box, Lindsay picked up the smaller one and headed back to where she had left the journal.

When she got there, she stopped. Frowning, she stared at the shelf. There were now two stacks of
eight journals piled up nicely where she had left the one.

Dropping the box, Lindsay reached up and grabbed one of the journals. *1.1* was written in
the top right corner in shimmering silver ink. She could tell that there was once a long, elaborate
title (she could sort of make out cursive writing), but it was now scratched out. Underneath the
scribbled out title, in the same ink and writing as the *1.1*, was *Her Story*.

Lindsay was usually very good at remembering the books that Mrs. Potter kept in stock, but she
didn't recognize this one at all. “Hey Karen,” she called, “do you remember us getting a book
called *Her Story*?”

“No, I don't.” Karen said after a moment's pause.

Lindsay looked over the cover, trying to find an author, but couldn't find one. Turning the
book over, she looked for a barcode, which was also missing. She glanced back up at the stack of
journals and grabbed another one. It was made from the same type of leather but there was no
scribbled out title in the middle, just *Her Story* in the same silver ink. Instead of
*1.**1*, *5.2* was written in the elegant writing on the top right corner. And,
after a quick search, Lindsay found that there was neither author nor a barcode on this journal as
well.

“Do you think that this could be Mrs. P's?” Lindsay asked. She held out *Her Story**:
5.2* to Karen as she came over to where Lindsay was standing. “This doesn't look new. It
looks like it's been used.”

“I don't know…” Karen said slowly, turning the journal around in her hands. “The journals we
get are usually wrapped in plastic.”

She grabbed the leather string that was keeping the journal closed and tried to unwind it.
Lindsay watched as she began to frown and tug at the string from different angles. “It's
stuck,” she grunted, now yanking on the string.

“Not so rough! You're going to break it.” Lindsay placed *Her Story: 1.1* between her
legs and snatched the book from her. Grabbing the string she gently pulled, frowning when she met
resistance. Karen had a smug grin on her face she watched her friend struggle with it. She gave up
a few moments later and tossed it back on the shelf. “It's like it's been glued or
something.” She grabbed the one between her legs.

Karen reached up and grabbed the next journal. This one had a scribbled out title as well with
*Her Story* written underneath and *3.1* in the corner. She grabbed the string and tried
to untie it, but to no avail. “Oh come on!” she cried, slamming the journal back on the shelf. Now
frustrated, she grabbed the next one (*7.2*) and yanked on the string violently.

Lindsay looked at the journal in her hands and sighed. Grabbing the end of the string she gave
it a pull and was surprised to see that it unwound immediately. Karen stopped tugging on *2.2*
to watch her as she slowly opened the journal. A note was wedged in between the cover and first
page. Karen grabbed it and began to read.

“*`**Dear Reader,*

*Before reading on, I want whoever is reading this to know that this was meant to be a
companion series, we had agreed -*' I can't make out the rest.” She said, squinting at
the note. “It's like it was scribbled out, and there's some water stains too… oh! Here we
go!

*`…story. Please keep in mind that this is the true version. Some facts and events that
happened in the original were just works of fiction, straying from the truth. We decided that it
was time for people to read the true story. Her story. My story.*

*H.J**.*'”

“What the hell?” Lindsay grabbed the note from Karen and looked it over. It was written in
small, extremely neat handwriting. After the first line all the words became smudged by ink and
were illegible. Water stains made the end of the first paragraph and most of the second one
impossible to read. “Who is H.J?”

“Mrs. P?” Karen suggested.

“Mrs. P's first name is Jeanine.” she shook her head. “And her last name starts with P. This
says it's a J.”

“Maybe it's Hermione Jean?” Karen joked, bumping her shoulder against Lindsay's.

“Don't be stupid.” Lindsay rolled her eyes. She placed the note delicately back into the
journal and wound the string back around it.

“What are you doing?” Karen demanded as her friend placed the journal back onto the shelf.

“*We* have work to do,” she said, motioning to the books that still needed to be put in
boxes.

“But don't you want to read what's in the journal?” Karen followed after Lindsay as she
made her way back to the boxes they were working on. “Come on Lindsay! I know that only being able
to open the first journal *and* that note makes you want to read it just as much as I do!”

Lindsay narrowed her eyes as she sat down on the trolley and heaved the large box towards her.
She hated to admit it, but that note did pique her curiosity; she did want to know what was in that
journal. But at the same time she wasn't sure that it was even meant to be in Just Imagine.
“What if it *is* Mrs. P's diary? We could be reading her personal thoughts and invading
her privacy.”

“Didn't you just say that Mrs. P's first name is Jeanine and her last name is Potter? It
doesn't fit,” Karen huffed and sat down beside Lindsay, grabbing the sheet she had been working
on before. “Where's your sense of adventure?”

“You are way too nosy.”

“And you're way too stuck up,” Karen retorted. Lindsay's head snapped up and she glared
at her friend, shoving the box roughly towards her so she could tape the piece of paper to it.
After a few minutes of painful silence, Karen sighed. “I'm sorry Lindsay. You aren't really
stuck up. All I'm saying is that it won't kill you to read a bit of it.”

“Okay, fine,” Lindsay relented, grabbing the next box and beginning to tape it together.
“We'll take a look at it, *but* -” she said quickly as Karen whooped, “we are finishing
this up first. Mrs. P will kill us if she sees the storeroom like this tomorrow.”

Karen smiled and grabbed a new piece of paper to write on. The two girls worked quickly through
the mess, and Lindsay had to admit she was a little excited to see what was in the journal.

Twenty minutes later Karen was stacking the new boxes off to the side of the compactor and
Lindsay was putting away the supplies they used. When she turned around, Karen already had the
first journal in her hands and was waiting for Lindsay by the door.

“We should clock out before we read this,” Karen squealed excitedly, practically running out of
the storeroom. “Mrs. P would kill us if we stayed a couple hours after closing time and didn't
sign out.”

“Do you think we should take these home?” Lindsay asked, following her out of the room.

“And have Mrs. P freak out on us when she finds out?” Karen scoffed, grabbing her time card and
swiping it through the machine. “I don't think so. We could stay in the break room. The couch
is really comfy.”

Lindsay frowned but didn't say anything. She wasn't entirely sure what type of security
system there was for Just Imagine, and didn't fancy having the police barge in on them because
they set off some sort of motion detector.

Karen noticed Lindsay's expression and groaned, “It'll be fine. Trust me.”

Lindsay swiped her time card through the machine, double checked that the door

was locked and followed Karen through the door to the break room.

“Ready?” Karen asked, plopping down the sofa and patting the space beside her. Lindsay rolled
her eyes and sat down beside her. She cleared her throat and opened the journal dramatically.
“I'll read first.”

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**End Note****: And there you have it, the beginning! Drop a review to let me know what you
think!**

**Kelci**

-->



2. One: First Sight
-------------------



**One**

**“First Sight”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit. ALSO, I used some of the text from the**
**Philosopher's Stone** **and that most definitely belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

**Note One: A big thanks to the_scribbler for being my awesomesauce beta/editor!**

**Note Two:** **Hey guys! Wow, let me say I am so thrilled and amazed at the response I got
from you guys! It made me get right on with writing and if it keeps up, you'll probably be
getting a new chapter every week!**

**In this chapter we have some new characters. J.K. Rowling said that she played with the idea
of Hermione having a sister but in the end didn't go through with it. Well, I did. I hope you
guys like Viola Anne Granger as much as I do!**

**EDITED 06/11/2011: More changes with the dates.**

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**23 June, 1991**

It was an unusually warm Saturday afternoon in June and, even though all windows of the car were
rolled all the way down, there was no breeze to cool off the car's passengers. Perspiration
began to form on the brow of eleven year old Hermione Granger. Wiping the sweat away with her hand,
she shot an annoyed scowl at the seven year old bouncing excitedly in the seat beside her. “Would
you stop that?” she hissed. The heat made Hermione cranky.

Little Viola Granger stopped vibrating for a fraction of a second to examine her older sister,
“Why?” she asked, going back to her annoying fluttering. “You can see the sign now, Minny!
Look!”

“I don't care if you can,” her older sister growled, “you're being annoying.”

“Hermione, we talked about this,” their father, David Granger, scolded from the front seat,
looking at his oldest daughter in the rear view mirror. “No attitude. Now apologize to your
sister.”

“I'm sorry, Vi,” she sighed, giving a small smile to Viola.

Viola returned her smile with a watery one and pushed her curly brown hair (which was borderline
bushy but not as bushy as Hermione's) out of her face. “It's okay, Minny.”

Hermione reached over to clasp her hand in Viola's, giving it a soft squeeze. After moment,
Viola ripped her hand out of Hermione's and plastered herself to the window. She was still
fidgeting with excitement but it was toned down for Hermione's sake. But, as they got closer to
the zoo, Viola seemed to forget about Hermione and her movements got more erratic.

Hermione rolled her eyes and clenched her fists on her lap, bunching the material of her jeans
in her grip. Her parents refused to let her bring a book with her to their cousin's birthday
party, saying that it was rude to just sit at a picnic table and read for the duration of the
afternoon. Not used to not being allowed to *read* put Hermione into a foul mood and the heat
and her little sister's over-excitement was not exactly helping.

“Girls,” their mother, Jane Granger, spoke up. She twisted in her seat so she could look at her
two daughters, her light brown hair up in a high ponytail. “Before we get to the party, we need to
make something clear.”

Both girls groaned loudly but Mrs. Granger ignored it.

“I know Claire can be…” she trailed off, not entirely sure what word to use.

“Snobby?” Viola suggested.

“*Difficult*,” Mrs. Granger corrected. “But it *is* her birthday and your aunt and
uncle told me they didn't want to break up any arguments today.”

“I will if Claire keeps her mouth shut,” Viola declared, crossing her arms stubbornly.

“Viola Anna Granger you will not argue with your cousin today,” Mrs. Granger said in a stern
voice.

Viola met her mother's gaze with her own, their light blue eyes locked in a match of
dominance. After a moment, Viola sighed and looked down. “I promise, mummy.”

“That's my girl,” she smiled, reaching back to squeeze her knee.

As the car pulled into the zoo's parking lot, Hermione felt dread start to creep into the
pit of her stomach. Usually when Claire and her aunt and uncle visited, she had a book to preoccupy
her time. But now, bookless and cranky, Hermione had a feeling that it was going to be a very long
and trying day.

Mr. Granger found a parking spot relatively close to the entrance and pulled into the space.
“Look! Look! An ice cream van!” Viola started shouting suddenly, her eyes going wide. She craned
her head to look at her mother. “Can I get some? *Please*?”

“I don't know,” Mrs. Granger hedged, glancing at her husband. He shut off the car and merely
shrugged.

“It won't ruin my appetite, I promise,” Viola begged. “And I promise to brush and floss my
teeth extra good tonight, too!”

“Alright, you can get some this time.” Mr. Granger relented, shifting so he could grab his
wallet from his trousers pocket. “But,” he added as Viola started to unbuckle her seatbelt,
“Hermione has to go with you.”

Viola's head whipped around to stare at Hermione with enough force to almost give her
whiplash. Hermione, resisting the urge to disagree, gave a non-committal shrug. Her father handed
her some money and she unbuckled her seatbelt, getting out of the car and going over to Viola's
side. She was already out of the car and grabbed Hermione's hand, impatiently tugging her
towards the van. The sisters got in line behind a family of five just as one of the boys began to
rattle off what all he wanted.

“Now Diddydums,” the mother of the family said, sounding almost cautious. Viola snorted loudly
at the nickname. Hermione quickly shushed her and looked anxiously at the group to see if they
heard her sister. It seemed only the smallest of the three boys did; he glanced back at them and
gave a small smile, rolling his eyes before turning back to the van, “you can only have one right
now. But once you and Piers finish them, we can get you a different one.”

This seemed to placate the large boy and he ordered his ice cream. The ice cream lady turned to
the scrawny boy next to `Diddydums' and he ordered what he wanted. The father grabbed his
wallet and was pulling some money out when the ice cream lady turned to the small boy and asked
what he wanted. The father went beet red and quickly ordered him a lemon ice lolly, thrusting the
money at her before stomping off to the entrance of the zoo, the family trailing behind him.

“What can I get you ladies?” The ice cream lady asked as Hermione and Viola walked up to the
window, still eyeing the man who was now paying the entrance fee.

“Can I have a fudgesicle?” Viola asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Please?” she added,
suddenly remembering her manners.

“You sure can,” The woman chuckled as she disappeared for a moment and returned with a wrapped
fudgesicle, handing it to Viola with a cheerful grin. She turned to Hermione, “And what can I get
for you?”

“Uh…” Hermione looked up at the menu, unsure of what she wanted. She saw the lemon ice lolly
that the man bought for the small boy and frowned, immediately feeling sorry for him. It was the
cheapest thing on the menu and didn't look very appetizing. “Can I just get an ice cream
sandwich?”

The woman disappeared once again and reappeared, handing her the treat. Hermione paid for the
ice cream and took Viola's hand. She saw their parents in line at the entrance and made her way
over to them, dragging an already chocolate covered Viola behind her.

Viola dropped Hermione's hand as soon as they got into the zoo, rushing over to Mr.
Granger's side and offering to carry one of the presents they had gotten for Claire. Hermione
delicately unwrapped half of her sandwich and took a bite out of the corner, looking around at the
different attractions. As they made their way to the picnic area and playground, the sound of
children laughing became louder and louder, Claire's voice carrying over all the other
kids.

“Aunt Jane! Uncle David!” Claire screamed as soon as they came into sight. She dropped the ball
she was playing with and bolted over to them, her chocolate brown eyes (which were identical to
Hermione's) glinting in the sunlight. She skidded to a stop in front of Mr. Granger, her smile
faltering when she noticed Hermione and Viola's ice cream. “You didn't get ice cream for
me?”

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. They hadn't been at the party for five minutes and
Claire already was going about her selfish ways. Claire's father, who was Mr. Granger's
brother, was a dentist and her mother was a lawyer. They certainly weren't short of money and
all of the extra money they had to spend was spent on Claire. They put her through dance lessons,
entered her in child beauty pageants (which most of the time she won), and never said no to her.
All this made Claire an extremely spoiled and selfish child and, as Mrs. Granger had said in the
car, difficult to be around.

“Claire, remember your manners.” Hermione's Uncle Robert chided lightly, patting his
daughter on the head. “David, Jane.”

As the adults were saying their hellos, Viola walked up to Claire with a look of determination
on her face and handed the bag to her. “Happy birthday, Claire.”

Claire took the bag and evaluated it, “Thanks Vi.” She turned to Hermione and raised an eyebrow,
“No book today, Hermione?”

“Not today,” she bit out, forcing herself to smile. “Happy birth-”

Hermione didn't even get to finish her sentence. Claire turned on her heel and walked back
to the picnic table where her friends were waiting, casually dropping the present next to the
growing pile. Hermione stared after her in disbelief, her mouth open.

Uncle Robert suddenly realized that Hermione and Viola were there, he bent down and wrapped his
arms around the girls, drawing them into a hug. “Thanks for coming, girls,” he said, kissing them
on their cheeks. “We'll be having cake soon, then it'll be present time, and then we can go
explore the zoo. Okay?”

“Okay Uncle Robert,” Viola grinned. He dropped his arms and gently nudged them in the direction
of the rest of the girls.

Hermione wrapped her half eaten ice cream sandwich in the wrapper and walked over to the empty
table beside Claire's as Viola took off to go play on the playground. Cake was soon passed
around and then it was time for Claire to open her presents. Her and her friends chattered
excitedly as Aunt Mary grabbed the first present and placed it in front of Claire.

Hermione reluctantly went to go stand by Claire's friends, knowing it was what her parents
wanted her to do. Everyone grew silent as Claire opened the first present, pulling out a box with
the picture of a very intricate vanity mirror on the front. Claire's eyes roamed over the box
for a moment and then nodded, giving her parents a bright smile. “Thanks, mummy.”

“You're welcome, dear.” Aunt Mary said, returning the smile.

Present after present, Claire would evaluate whatever she opened and either like it or say it
was the wrong one. Hermione rolled her eyes. Every year since Claire was seven she would make her
parents send out specific lists of what she wanted to people. At first Hermione resisted, picking
out books and beauty magazines that suited Claire's taste. Eventually Claire had enough and
told Hermione that if it wasn't on the list, she would hate it as a gift. After that, Hermione
let her parents and Viola pick out the gifts and she just signed the card.

Claire seemed pleased with what she had gotten and present time went by without incident. The
adults began to pack things away, leaving the children to go play. Claire and her friends sat
around some benches near the playground, discussing what animals they wanted to see. Hermione
reluctantly sat on the bench near the girls, making sure she was close enough so her parents would
think she was being at least somewhat social but far enough away to not be included in the
conversation. Thankfully, Claire ignored Hermione as she and her friends talked.

As soon as the adults were done packing up, the group made their way through the zoo with Claire
leading the pack and Hermione and Viola drawing up the rear. Hermione could tell that Viola was
itching to go up to the front and see the animals first but held back to be with her sister. She
felt a surge of love go out to her little sister and casually put her arm around her shoulder,
giving it a squeeze. “Thanks Vi.”

Viola looked up at Hermione, wrapping her small arm around her waist, “You're welcome.”

Despite Claire's random fits when animals wouldn't do what she wanted, Hermione was
surprised to find that she was having fun. Watching the animals on television or even reading about
them in books was nothing compared to the real thing. She enjoyed reading the little plaques with
information about the animals to Viola, occasionally adding a little fact that she had read
somewhere in a book. Viola seemed to enjoy this as well, soaking up all the information Hermione
was giving her like a sponge.

The group had made it halfway through the zoo and decided to go into the reptile house to get
out of the sun. Claire let everyone go inside first, waiting for Hermione and Viola.

“Come on,” she said, walking with them into the room, “I feel like I haven't spent any time
with my *favourite* cousins.”

“No, that's alright.” Hermione said quickly, feeling her skin begin to crawl as she caught
sight of a large snake exhibit. Hermione had always been afraid of snakes and knew from the
mischievous glint in Claire's eyes that she was planning something. She pointed over to a group
of tables near the side of the room. “I think I got too much sun, I'm just going to go sit down
for a bit.”

Claire glared at Hermione. “Fine then,” she said coldly, grabbing onto Viola's hand,
“Let's go, *Vi*.”

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and headed to a table, feeling a tad guilty for leaving Viola
with Claire. *She'll be fine*, she told herself, sitting down, *Vi can hold her own*.
On the table there were scattered pamphlets about the different reptiles that were housed there.
Hermione quickly turned over the one with the picture of an anaconda and grabbed the one about
lizards. As she opened up the pamphlet and began to read, she felt some of her tension melt
away.

“Make it move,” the familiar voice made Hermione drag her eyes away from the pamphlet and look
up. Standing at the snake exhibit was the family that had been in front of Hermione and Viola at
the ice cream van. She watched with mild interest as the large, beefy boy leaned against the glass
of the cage.

The father knocked on the glass, “Move.”

The snake didn't seem to move which annoyed `Diddydums'. He banged both of his fists
loudly on the glass, making the people around him look up in alarm. “*Move*!”

“He's asleep,” the small boy who had gotten the lemon ice lolly hissed at him.

“This is boring,” Diddydums moaned loudly. He and the other scrawny boy stalked off to the other
side of the room with their father trailing behind, leaving the small boy all alone. Hermione went
back to her pamphlet but soon found herself staring at the young boy, who was leaning on the
railing. Taking the time to really look at him, she frowned when she noticed that his clothes were
all ratty and at least five sizes too big for his small frame. Her heart went out to him as she
took in his hunched figure, he looked so *sad.* As she continued to watch him, she noticed
that he seemed to be talking to the snake in a low voice. Her eyes widened and she stiffened as the
snake slowly stretched itself up and looked fully at the boy. As his voice carried over to where
she was sitting, she felt her skin crawl when she heard it. He was *hissing*.

She wasn't the only one who noticed what he was doing. From across the room, the scrawny boy
hit Diddydums and said loudly, “Look what Potter's doing!”

Hermione drew her eyes away from him to see the large boy go red in the face and run over to
where he was, practically bulldozing the small boy out of the way so he could lean against the
glass. The boy fell painfully to the ground with a small cry and propped himself up on his elbows,
glaring at him with the most intense green eyes Hermione had ever seen.

The other boy ran up and leaned on the glass too, almost trampling over the boy on the floor.
Then suddenly there were two shrill shrieks and both boys fell head first into the snake
exhibit.

Hermione let out a yell and stood up, not quite believing what she saw. How could the glass just
vanish like that?!

Then she saw the snake.

It was a lot larger than she thought and as it slowly started make its way out of the cage, she
felt panic start to bubble up in her chest. Hermione screamed and went to jump up on the table as
it made its way over to where she was. Her vision blurred and suddenly she was on top of a medium
sized bookshelf about ten feet away from where she had originally been. By now all the people in
the room had seen the snake and were screaming and trying to get to their children. She looked
around, dazed and confused, wondering how she had gotten away from the table so fast.

A shrill, piercing scream caught Hermione's attention. She looked back to where the boys
fell into the cage to see the mother crying and banging on the glass that suddenly reappeared,
trapping them in. Hermione could only stare with horror as the workers rushed over to get the boys
out. The father let out a roar and grabbed the boy who had been talking to the snake by the scruff
of the neck and hauled him up. The boy had an expression that mirrored Hermione's, horror mixed
with confusion as he stared at the glass with an open mouth.

“How on earth did you get up there?” Hermione jumped, startled, as Mr. Granger came running up
to where Hermione was. “Never mind, come on.” He reached up and pulled her off of the bookshelf and
carried her out of the reptile house. The rest of the party had taken shelter underneath a tree;
the parents looking frantic and trying to calm down the crying kids.

“Daddy,” she said as Mr. Granger put her down, “I saw it! The glass just disappeared and those
boys fell in!”

“Sweetie,” Mr. Granger soothed, bending down and brushing back her hair, “glass doesn't just
disappear.”

“But I *saw* it, daddy!” Hermione protested, stomping her foot. “Those boys pushed the
other one to the ground and leaned on the glass and then the glass *just disappeared*!”

“Hermione, the glass didn't disappear.”

“How did the snake get out then?” she challenged, crossing her arms stubbornly.

Mr. Granger sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I don't know, but there's some
logical explanation. There *always* is.”

Mrs. Granger came up to them carrying a crying Viola, looking bewildered, “I have no idea what
just happened but the party's over. Claire's too hysterical.”

Hermione looked over and saw Claire sitting on the grass, bawling and chanting “*My
party's ruined*” over and over again. More wailing came from the reptile house as the two
boys, wrapped in blankets, were ushered out to the parking lot by their mother. A moment later the
father burst out of the house dragging the boy behind him, almost purple in the face.

“I swear I saw the glass disappear and then reappear,” Hermione pleaded one more time, looking
at her mother. “And the other boy was *hissing* at the snake!”

“You're just in shock,” Mr. Granger said, sounding reassuring. He picked up Hermione like
she was a little child. As they made their way to the parking lot, Hermione looked over and saw the
father practically shove the boy into the car before slamming the door and getting into the
driver's seat. She frowned; maybe she had imagined hearing him hissing to the snake. Or perhaps
he was just playing; he couldn't have been older than she was. Either way, Hermione hoped that
he would be alright.

**<><><>**

**4 July, 2016**

“*...**Hermione hoped that he would be alright**…*” Karen trailed off, closing
the journal and staring at Lindsay with wide eyes.

“What the *hell*?” Lindsay sputtered, grabbing the journal and opening it. She looked down,
surprised to see that instead of being typed, the words were neatly handwritten in black ink.
Checking the cover quickly, she noted that the writing was exactly the same to the one on the
cover.

“I … don't even know what to say to that.” Karen said, standing up and stretching. “I mean,
this could be someone's idea of a joke, or some type of fanfiction, or an author's attempt
at creating some next big series without plagiarism, or…”

Lindsay closed the journal and wrapped the leather string around it. She got up from the couch
and headed towards the door, “I don't know about you but I'm putting this thing back in the
box and going home. We'll tell Mrs. P about them in the morning and she can deal with it.”

“Agreed.”

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**End Note:** **So what do you guys think? Drop a review and let me know!**

**Cheers,**

**Kelci**

-->



3. Two: A Hot Mess
------------------



**Two**

**“A Hot Mess”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit.**

**Note One:** **Hey guys! Again, I'm blown away with the response this story is getting!
And I'm really glad you guys like Viola as much as I do.**

**EDITED 06/11/2011: Just some date changes and minor edits.**

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**5 July, 2016**

In the summer when Lindsay worked full time at Just Imagine, she had a certain morning ritual
that she went through. Each morning she would visit the Starbucks beside the shop and order a
Grande Passion Iced Tea and a slice of lemon poppy seed bread. After that, she would head into Just
Imagine and open the store, finishing up with fifteen minutes to spare before it opened up to the
public. In that time, Mrs. P said she could pick out a book to read during the morning when things
weren't busy until Karen showed up just before lunch. Lindsay had done this procedure so many
times that she didn't have to think about it anymore.

This morning, however, was different. She stood in the doorway of Just Imagine with her Grande
Passion Iced Tea and slice of lemon poppy seed bread in hand, staring around the shop. She
wasn't sure why, but she was expecting to find something different about Just Imagine;
something that was out of place. Of course, everything was exactly where Lindsay and Karen had left
them the previous night. Lindsay let out a nervous giggle and shook her head, feeling ridiculous.
She placed her goodies down on the counter and began the opening procedures.

When it became time for Lindsay to find herself a book for that morning, her eyes immediately
went to the storeroom door. After getting home last night, Lindsay's mind was reeling with
questions. Who put the journals in the storeroom? Who *wrote* them? She found the more she
asked those questions, the more she wanted to *read* the rest of the journal. Granted, it
wasn't much of a journal. It was written in third person and was more like a novel...
*No*, she thought, forcing herself to go down the adventure section and away from the
storeroom. *We agreed we wouldn't read anymore. We're going to tell Mrs. P as soon as she
gets here.*

She browsed the adventure section, not having anything catch her eye. Fed up, she grabbed the
one with the most interesting cover and went back behind the counter. Taking a sip from her drink,
she sat down on the stool and opened the book.

Lindsay hadn't even gotten halfway down the first page when she felt her eyes slowly start
to shift towards the storeroom door. She blinked, shook her head, and refocused on the paragraph
she had been reading. Thirty seconds later she found herself staring at the door yet again.

Lindsay put the book down and bit her lip, feeling as though there was some unseen force
beckoning her to the storeroom. She really did want to read the rest of the journal, and it
wasn't like she would be hurting anyone by reading it…

“Alright then,” she mumbled. She marched to the storeroom and threw open the door, glancing
around. Again, she felt as if there should be something different about the room. She ignored it
and hurried to the back where she had placed the journal and grabbed it, peeking to make sure that
the rest of them were still in the box (which they were), and ran back out. There was still five
minutes until Just Imagine opened but Lindsay unlocked the door anyway, flipping the sign to
`Open'. She settled back into her stool, found the place where Karen left off, and started to
read.

**<><><>**

**11 July, 1991**

“Minny, I'm bored.”

Hermione dragged her eyes up from her book to see Viola standing at the end of the sofa,
pointing her newly perfected puppy dog eyes at her. She sighed and placed her bookmark on the page
she was on, closing the book. “Vi, your party starts in a few hours. Surely you can wait until
then.”

“But I'm bored *now*,” she whined, drawing out the `now'. She draped herself over
the arm of the sofa and let out another whine. Because it was July, Viola was able to have her
birthday party on her actual birthday and not have to wait until the weekend.

“Well you need to learn how to have some patience,” Hermione retorted, reopening her book. “Why
don't you go ask mum or daddy to see if you can help set up for your party?”

“Okay!” Viola straightened up and scurried out of the living room. Hermione giggled at how fast
her sister could change her attitude and went back to her book. A few minutes later, Viola stomped
back into the room with a sour expression. She threw herself onto the sofa and crossed her arms
across her chest. “They won't let me.”

“Why don't you read something, then?” Hermione suggested patiently, closing her book yet
again.

“I've already read all the books I have,” she grumbled.

“You could borrow one of my books.”

Viola shot Hermione a nasty glare, “All of *your* books are too hard for me to read.”

“Well I don't know then,” she said, getting fed up with her little sister's attitude.
“Take a nap, you're getting cranky.” She opened her book and went back to reading.

“*No!*” Hermione rolled her eyes and ignored Viola as she flopped down onto her side and
began to hit the sofa cushion repeatedly with her fist.

A car door slammed in front of their house. Hermione looked out the window and groaned as she
saw Uncle Robert, Aunt Mary, and Claire heading up the walkway. They were early, but Hermione
figured that her aunt and uncle were planning on helping with the party preparations. Still, she
wasn't too keen on having to spend extra time with Claire. A few seconds later, Mr. Granger
walked through the house to the entrance way to let them in.

Viola stopped her tantrum to look up at Claire as she walked into living room. “Mummy and daddy
said I have to play with you guys until the party,” she said, not even greeting the two girls. She
sat down delicately on the chair across from Hermione and Viola and stared at them. “And I'm
*not* reading, Hermione.”

“I wasn't going to ask you to, anyway.” Hermione replied, flipping the page.

“There's the birthday girl!” Uncle Robert declared, entering the room. He picked up Viola
and spun her around, making her squeal and giggle. Hermione glanced at Claire and smirked as she
saw her purse her lips at her father and Viola. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Uncle Robert!” Viola wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and gave him a hug. “What
did you get me?”

“You'll just have to wait and find out,” he teased, flicking her nose gently with his
finger. Viola groaned as he let her down. He straightened up and turned to Hermione. “Your aunt and
I also got something for you as well, Hermione.”

Both Hermione and Claire looked up at him in shock. “You got something for me?” she asked,
feeling Claire's glare on her. “You didn't have to do that.”

He shrugged, “I just saw it and thought of you. Plus, both Claire and Viola will have gotten
presents from us in the past couple weeks and it's not really fair to you.”

“Thanks, Uncle Robert.”

“You're welcome, kiddo.” He reached over and messed up her hair, then excused himself from
the room.

“*You* even got a present today and I didn't?” Claire snarled, crossing her arms. “How
is *that* fair?”

Hermione shrugged, “It wasn't like I asked for one. And besides, your birthday was two weeks
ago.”

“So? He's my daddy, not yours,” she said snottily. “I was the one who was supposed to get
the present, not you.”

“Don't fight, you two,” Viola said in a small voice, glancing nervously between the two
girls.

Claire glared at Hermione one final time before turning to Viola and putting on a big, fake
smile. “I'm sorry, birthday girl. What did *you* want to do until your party?”

Viola gave a small shrug. “Tag?”

“No,” she said immediately. Claire's eyes went wide and she suddenly sat up, clapping her
hands together. “I know! We can play beauty salon!”

“How do you play that?” Viola asked. Hermione felt dread start to creep up as she saw the glint
in Claire's eyes.

“We get the make-up kit I brought with me, change into pretty clothes, and gossip!”

“I guess that could be fun?” Viola said slowly. She had always been more of an outdoorsy, tomboy
type of girl.

“I'll go ask mummy to get the make-up kit,” Claire jumped up from the chair and ran out of
the room. Moments later, she returned with a silver box. “Come on girls, we'll have to go to
one of your rooms to do this.”

“Do I have to play?” Hermione asked, hoping she didn't have to.

“It's up to the birthday girl,” Claire answered coolly.

They looked at Viola, who nodded vigorously. “I want Minny to come.”

Claire looked a little put out at this but said nothing. She turned on her heel and started up
the stairs, Hermione and Viola scrambling to follow her. “Are there rules to beauty salon?” Viola
asked.

“There are three,” she said after thinking it through. “First rule, no reading anything except
fashion or gossip magazines.” Hermione groaned. “Second rule, you have to pretend to be rich and
famous.”

They stopped at the end of the hallway where Hermione and Viola's rooms were. Claire stepped
into Viola's room and shook her head. “Sorry Vi, this room is too messy for a salon.”

“It's okay,” she replied, going red. “I was going to clean it up later.”

Hermione groaned, knowing that they'd be using her room. She just hoped they wouldn't
mess it up too much. Viola skipped her way into Hermione's room as Claire stood in the doorway.
“What's the third rule?” Hermione asked, knowing she would regret asking.

“Third rule is you *have* to do whatever I say.” Claire said, grabbing Hermione's arm
and yanking her into the room.

“That doesn't sound very fair,” Hermione said, twisting out of her cousin's grip. She
watched as she shoved some books that were stacked up on Hermione's desk to the floor.
“*Hey!*”

“Sorry,” Claire said, not sounding apologetic at all. “But an artist needs her space.”

“Even so,” Hermione growled, picking up her beloved books, “that doesn't give you the right
to come here as a *guest* and disrespect my things.” She went over to the large bookshelf and
placed the books back in their original places.

“Funny, I always thought that the *guest* came first.” Claire dragged the chair that was at
Hermione's desk to the middle of the room. She glanced at the two girls and nodded towards
Hermione's bed, “Sit.”

Hermione and Viola shared a look and sat down on the bed. Hermione was already starting to
regret agreeing to play this stupid game and, with one look at Viola, she could tell her sister was
as well. “What do we do now?” Viola asked.

“You wait until I'm good and ready,” Claire replied. She opened up the silver box and began
taking out different sized brushes, combs, blush, and eye shadows. After laying them out
meticulously, she turned to them and stared at them thoughtfully. “Alright Vi, come and sit in the
chair.”

Viola slid off the bed and went over to the chair. Claire circled around her, examining her as
she tapped her finger on her chin. “What to do, what to do,” she murmured.

Viola shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“Oh honey, you're such a hot mess,” she said in an extremely posh voice, jutting out her
hip. “When I'm done with you, you will be be-you-tee-full!”

“I-I'm a what?” Viola asked, looking a little worried.

“A hot mess,” she repeated, grabbing a chunk of Viola's hair and examining the curls,
“Actually, a hot, hot mess.”

“Claire,” Hermione warned, seeing tears begin to fill Viola's eyes. “Don't listen to
Claire, Vi. You're not a hot mess.” She didn't even know what being a `hot mess' meant,
but the way Claire had said it made it clear that it was an insult.

Claire let out a sound of frustration, throwing her hands up in the air. “Why do you have to
ruin *everything*?” she rounded on Hermione.

“Excuse me?”

“Rule number two!” Claire cried. “You have to pretend to be rich and famous!”

“Being rich and famous doesn't mean you have to insult people,” Hermione defended.

“Yes they do! Rules are rules, Hermione.” Claire rolled her eyes. “And I said that I was going
to *fix* her, didn't I?”

“I don't want to play this anymore,” Viola said, starting to get up.

“Oh *come on*, Vi.” Claire placed her hands on Viola's shoulders, keeping her in the
chair. Hermione glared at her. “I *said* I was going to make you beautiful.”

“But mummy and daddy say I'm already beautiful,” Viola argued.

Claire let out a little snort and patted Viola's head. “Mhm,” she cooed.

“Alright, that's it.” Seeing Viola's crestfallen expression was enough for Hermione to
get up and go over to Claire. “You will stop insulting my little sister *right now* or-”

“Or what?” Claire challenged, stepping towards Hermione. Hermione felt a little intimidated by
her but refused to step down. “You'll go running to mummy and daddy again? God Hermione, you
have to ruin everyone's fun.”

“How is this fun?” Hermione asked, “Vi is obviously not enjoying herself and -”

“Yes she is!”

“Does *that* look like the face of someone who is having fun?” Hermione pointed to Viola,
who shrank back into the chair. Silent tears were streaming down her cheeks and she stared at the
floor. “You may play this way with *your* friends Claire, but you're twelve. Viola is
eight! You can't just say that stuff to her and expect her to not react.”

“I know what this is about,” Claire said coolly.

“Oh really? What's this about, then?”

“You're just mad that I knocked your *stupid* books onto the floor.”

“What?” Hermione cried. “How -”

Claire let out a smug grin, “Thought so.” She turned back to Viola, who was still crying, and
grabbed a brush. “Remember the third rule, Hermione. You two have to do *whatever* I say. And
I say that we're going to play this game.”

“You know what?” Hermione said as Claire began pulling the brush through Viola's hair so
violently that it caused her to yelp. “*I* say that we aren't. You're hurting
her.”

“Hermione the Saint,” Claire sneered. Hermione reached out and grabbed the brush, yanking it out
of Claire's hand. “Don't you *dare* touch me!” Claire whipped around and shoved
Hermione roughly.

Hermione stumbled back against her bed, shocked, and stared at Claire. She had an almost wild
look in her eyes and Hermione had to admit she was slightly afraid. “Viola,” she said, “go get mum
and daddy.”

“You don't have to do that, Vi.” Claire said. “Hermione's not allowed to play anymore so
you can't listen to her.”

“Go get mum and daddy,” she repeated forcefully. Viola looked terrified as she ran out of the
room. “You have *some* nerve, Claire.”

“I have some nerve?” Claire laughed. “No, Hermione. *You* have some nerve. You're going
to get me in trouble.”

“You deserve it,” she spat, feeling something inside of her snap. “You're nothing but a
selfish, spoiled brat who bullies anyone who is the slightest bit smarter than you, which
doesn't take much.”

“Well at least I have friends,” Claire said arrogantly. “Being smart means *nothing* if you
don't know how to make and keep friends.”

Hermione stilled, feeling as though she had been slapped in the face. “I do too have friends,”
she denied.

“Oh yeah? Like who?”

“Sally-Anne and Susan are my friends,” she said. Hermione wouldn't exactly say that the
twins that lived next door to her were good friends, but they did have fun together whenever they
played.

“Them?” Claire laughed. “Please, twins are freaks. They don't count. Face it, Hermione, no
one can stand you.”

Hermione had never felt so much hatred towards one person as she did for Claire at that moment.
She felt something start to churn violently in her gut as she started to shake.

“Poor Hermione Granger,” Claire continued. “Friendless and only has her books to keep her
company.”

“Shut up.” Hermione whispered, clenching her fists.

“Bushy haired, buck-toothed freak,” Claire mocked. “Ugly, bossy, know-it-”

*WHAM!*

Claire screamed and fell back against the chair as one of Hermione's books flew across the
room and hit her on the side of the head. She tumbled to the floor and grabbed her head as Hermione
stumbled back in alarm.

Claire blinked and pulled back her hand. There was a tiny speck of blood from where a page had
cut her. “*I'M BLEEDING!*” she screeched.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger came running into the room at that moment. “What is going on in here?” Mr.
Granger demanded. Viola came into the room a moment later, sniffling, and Uncle Robert and Aunt
Mary right after her.

“Hermione attacked me!” Claire said immediately, starting to cry.

“No I didn't!” Hermione protested. “I didn't do anything to her!”

“Yes you did!” Claire screamed. “You forced Viola to tell on me when I was doing nothing
wrong!”

“*What*?” Hermione turned to stare at her cousin in disbelief.

“Hermione -” Mr. Granger began.

“She's lying!” Hermione cried.

“Then,” Claire continued, “she ran to the bookshelf and threw a book at me!”

“I didn't, I swear!” Hermione said desperately. Tears of frustration began to form. The
adults looked like they had no idea what to do next as Claire's cries began to escalate. Aunt
Mary hurried to her daughter and bent down, bringing her into her embrace. “I don't know what
happened. Claire was calling me all these names and a book just hit her!”

Mr. Granger ran a hand through his hair, looking at the book that lay by Claire. “Claire,” he
spoke softly. Hermione couldn't believe they were just ignoring the fact that Viola was still
visibly upset and not trying to resolve the issue of Claire's bullying. “Is it at all possible
that a book could've just fallen on you?”

Claire shook her head. “No,” she said. “Hermione put all of her stupid books away before we
started playing.”

“Because *you* shoved all of them off my desk!” Hermione said angrily.

“Hermione,” her father bent down in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I'm
going to ask you this only once. Did you throw the book at Claire?”

“No,” she replied, appalled that her father would even ask her that. “I would never do something
like that, daddy.”

“She's lying!” Claire screamed. “She acts all perfect in front of you but she's a bossy
little know-it-all to Viola and me!”

“Stop being mean to Minny!” Viola yelled, startling everyone. She stepped out from behind Mrs.
Granger and pointed a shaking finger at her cousin, fresh tears falling down her cheeks.
“*You're* the bossy one. You always make us do what *you* want and I hate it! I hate
you!”

There was a stunned silence before both Claire and Viola started wailing. Mrs. Granger and Aunt
Mary looked panicked, sharing a quick glance at each other before ushering the two girls out of the
room. Uncle Robert gave a loud sigh and picked up the book that had hit Claire, smoothing out the
paperback cover that had bent from the impact.

“I'm sorry Uncle Robert,” Hermione apologized. “But Claire really was being mean to us. She
wouldn't let Vi up from the chair and was hurting her.”

“And she will be punished for that,” Mr. Granger said, looking at his brother who nodded. “But
be that as it may, it doesn't condone you throwing a book at her head.”

“What?” Hermione cried, stepping away from her father. “But I didn't!”

“There was no one else in the room,” he said. Hermione couldn't stand to look at the
disappointment in his eyes. “I'm sorry, sweetie, but that's the only logical
explanation.”

“But what happened *wasn't* logical!” she said. “The book really did fly through the
air. It was like magic or something.”

“Magic doesn't exist, Hermione.”

“I know it doesn't.” she yelled, stomping her foot. “I said it was *like* magic, not
that it *was* magic.”

“You are grounded to this room.” Mr. Granger said, a note of finality in his voice.
Hermione's eyes widened; it had been years since she had last gotten in trouble and she had
*never* been grounded before. “When you decide to change your attitude you may come down and
apologize to Claire for throwing the book at her and to your sister for causing all of this on her
birthday.”

Tears pooled over onto Hermione's cheeks as she watched her father and uncle exit the room,
closing the door behind them. “I'll apologize to Viola!” she screamed, running to the door and
kicking it. “But I'll be in this room forever because I am *never* apologizing to
Claire!”

She paced the room, tears blurring her vision as what happened slowly started to hit her.
Claire's make-up kit was still on her desk and she went over to it, swiping her arm across the
desk. All of the make-up fell to the floor with a loud thud and the sound made Hermione feel a tad
better. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything else in the room but her books and she would never
abuse those.

Letting out an angry yell, she ran to the door and locked it. The urge to kick the door again
was too great and Hermione kicked it, crying out as she hurt her toe. She collapsed to the floor
and leaned against the door, crying.

**<><><>**

**5 July, 2016**

“I can see you're working hard.”

Lindsay yelped, jumping in surprise and dropping the journal. “Karen!”

Karen watched with an amused expression as her friend disappeared behind the counter to retrieve
the journal. “I said your name at least five times and you didn't hear me,” she teased.

“Sod off,” Lindsay said, feeling her face start to heat up. She didn't think that she would
get so absorbed into reading and hoped no one had come in while she was off in her own little
world.

“You just couldn't stay away,” Karen chastised, a huge grin on her face as she grabbed the
journal. Folding the corner of the page that Lindsay had been on, Karen held the journal up and
started walking off to the break room. “I still have about forty-five minutes until my shift
starts, so I'll use that time to catch up with you.”

“Why are you here so early?” Lindsay called after her.

Karen stopped at the door and turned to Lindsay, “You aren't the only one who wants to read
what happened next.”

Karen disappeared behind the door, cackling. “Well now what?” Lindsay mumbled to herself,
leaning against the counter and propping her chin up on her hand.

Forty-five minutes later, Karen reappeared and then hurried to the storeroom. She came back a
moment later and went to go clock in. “Just had to put the journal away,” she explained to Lindsay
who had raised an eyebrow at her. It was unusually quiet for lunch hour and the last customer they
had just left before Karen came out. “Oh, there were a couple pages left until the end of the…
chapter I guess you could call it, so next time we read we'll be starting from the new
chapter.”

“What?” Lindsay asked. “That isn't fair. You got to read more than me.”

“Read the last few pages on your break then,” she said simply.

Lindsay grumbled and went back to her doodling.

“So,” Karen said after a while, “we aren't really going to tell Mrs. P about these, are we?
You know she'll want to take them away.”

“I was thinking about that earlier,” Lindsay said. She crossed her arms and leaned against the
counter. “I think we should… hold off on telling Mrs. P what we found. Y'know, just until we…
finish them.”

Karen nodded, “Should we keep them here though?”

“I think we should,” Lindsay said slowly, “but hide them. I don't want to test our luck by
bringing them somewhere else and damaging them somehow.”

“I'm sure we could get away with hiding them in the break room under -”

The bell above the door jingled and in walked Mrs. P. Both Lindsay and Karen straightened up
quickly, Lindsay sending a nervous glance at her friend. “Good afternoon, ladies.” Mrs. P
greeted.

“Good afternoon,” Karen said, clearing her throat.

Mrs. P gave the two girls a confused look, “Is there something wrong?”

“No, nothing!” Lindsay squeaked. She couldn't believe how nervous she felt around her boss
now.

Mrs. P let it go and placed her purse on the counter. “So how did yesterday go?”

“Busy,” Karen said shaking her head. “We have maybe two copies of *Bite Me* left.”

“I told you so,” Mrs. P gloated.

“Yeah, yeah.” Karen rolled her eyes. “How was your day off?”

A soft smile spread across Mrs. P's face. “It was good,” she said. “I really missed my
kids.”

“I'm sure they missed you too.” Lindsay smiled.

Mrs. P picked at a loose thread on her purse. “I think I'll be taking some more time off for
the summer. I'll still be here, don't worry,” she added quickly, “but just shorter
hours.”

“Why?” Karen asked.

“Being with my kids yesterday made me realize how much I've missed them, and they are away
from home so much now.” Lindsay's eyes widened as she saw Mrs. P start to tear up. “I want to
spend as much time as possible with them until they go back to school.”

Lindsay didn't know what to say as she watched Mrs. P take a deep breath and compose
herself. “Take as much time as you need, Mrs. P,” Karen said softly. Lindsay could tell from her
tone that she was just as bewildered.

“Thank you, girls,” she said, smiling. She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder.
“My husband and the kids are waiting in the car, so I should go. I'll see you ladies
tomorrow.”

“Bye,” Lindsay and Karen chorused. They watched as Mrs. P walked out of the shop in stunned
silence. Neither girl had ever seen their boss act like that before.

**<><><>**

A couple hours later, Lindsay decided it was time to go on her break. She quickly ran across the
street to the bakery and ordered some lunch before booking it back to Just Imagine. Karen had the
journal waiting for her up at the counter.

“Thanks,” Lindsay said, grabbing the journal.

“Just stop where the page breaks.” Karen warned, putting away some books. Lindsay rolled her
eyes and went to the break room. She wolfed down her lunch and snuggled into the sofa, opening up
the journal.

**<><><>**

**11 July, 1991**

After Hermione managed to calm down, she began to feel guilty about the way she acted. She was
still adamant that it was Claire's fault, but her actions did help cause Viola grief on her
special day. She resisted the urge to go down and apologize and lay on her bed, staring at the
ceiling and listening to Viola's birthday party from the open window. She'd just wait until
the party was over and all the guests, namely Claire, leave before going to apologize.

Hours passed and the party eventually died down. Hermione's room began to get darker and she
reached over to the bedside table to turn on the lamp just as there was a knock on the door.

“Hermione,” Mr. Granger called. He tried the door, which was still locked, and sighed. “Unlock
the door, sweetheart.”

Hermione slowly rolled off the bed and made her way to the door. She unlocked it and stepped
back as Mr. Granger entered the room. She didn't look at him and went back to the bed.

“Listen,” he said softly, going to sit down beside her, “I'm not entirely sure what all
happened this afternoon, but Viola told us what Claire had said and did and I want you to know that
your mother and I are so proud of you for sticking up for your sister like that.”

Hermione nodded but said nothing. She was still hurt that Mr. Granger didn't believe her
when she said she hadn't thrown the book and wasn't quite ready to forgive him yet.

“Now that you've calmed down, I want you to answer me honestly,” he continued. “Did you
throw the book at Claire?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “No, I didn't,” she snapped.

Mr. Granger sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “So you're telling me Claire hit herself
with the book?”

“I wish,” she snorted. Mr. Granger gave her a stern look. “Sorry.”

“Then explain to me what did happen.”

“I *told* you and you didn't believe me,” Hermione said, sighing. “Claire was being
mean Vi and called her ugly, and I told her to stop. She pushed me and that's when I told Vi to
get you and mum. Then she started saying all these mean things to me and then a book just
*flew* across the room and hit her.”

“And you expect us to just believe that?” Mr. Granger asked slowly.

“But that's what happened!” Hermione exclaimed. “Daddy you know I would never do that to
anyone.”

Mr. Granger nodded and stayed quiet. He looked like he was thinking quite hard and Hermione
didn't want to interrupt. “I know,” he said finally.

“Minny?”

Viola walked in the room, freshly bathed and dressed in her pyjamas. She looked between Hermione
and their father and then hurried onto the bed, launching herself at her sister.

“I'm sorry, Vi.” Hermione said, hugging Viola tightly.

“It's okay, Minny. Thanks for helping with Claire.”

“How was your party?” Hermione asked, pulling away.

Viola's eyes lit up and she started bouncing on the bed. “It was fun!” she cried. “I missed
you, but you should see the presents I got!”

“You can wait until tomorrow,” Mr. Granger laughed. “It's almost bed time for you,
missy.”

Viola groaned and stopped bouncing on the bed. “Does Minny at least get to come out of the
room?”

Mr. Granger nodded. “Your mother and I decided that you're still grounded until next week,”
he told Hermione. “But not to your room.”

Hermione nodded, feeling a little frustrated that she couldn't explain what happened. Mr.
Granger stood up and pulled a small, wrapped box from his pocket and handed it to Hermione. “This
is the present your uncle was going to give you.”

Hermione took the package and unwrapped it, slowly opening the box. She gasped. Inside were two
silver hair clips with diamonds at the end of them. Hermione wasn't the type of girl who was
into hair or fashion but she immediately knew what her uncle had meant when he said he'd
thought of her when he saw them. They were simple, yet elegant. She loved them.

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**End Note****: And there you have it! I don't think that the term `hot mess' was
used in 1991, but it fits Claire's character so just ignore it.**

**So read and review like you know how to do and I'll ho****pefully see you guys next
week!**

**Kelci**

-->



4. Three: Letter
----------------



**Three**

**“Letter”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit.**

**Note One****: Hey guys! Hope y'all are ready to get into the good stuff! One question
though, is it** **Apparition** **or** **Apparation****?** **I've seen both
spellings of the words and am a little confused about that.**

**EDITED 06/11/2011: Just some date changes and minor edits.**

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{****}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**5 July, 2016**

It took all Lindsay had to not continue reading on to the next chapter of *Her Story* after
she had caught up. She placed a spare piece of paper where they were going to continue reading and
closed the journal. However, instead of putting the journal back in the storeroom, Lindsay decided
to just leave it in the break room. No one else would be coming in and she figured it would be
safe.

The rest of the shift dragged on. All Lindsay could think about was finishing up work so they
could read the next chapter. As soon as the last customer of the day was out the shop, Karen rushed
to the door and locked it, flipping the sign to `Closed' as Lindsay frantically began closing
down the tills. A procedure that usually took around thirty minutes took the girls ten.

After double checking to make sure that everything was set for the next morning, Lindsay dimmed
the lights and hurried to the break room. Karen was already on the couch with the journal in her
hand. Lindsay sat beside her and yanked the journal out of her grip, “I read this time.”

**<><><>**

**20 July, 1991**

Hermione snorted and pressed her hand against her mouth, trying not to laugh. Mrs. Granger
busied herself with reading the paper, also holding in her laughter as Mr. Granger let out a
frustrated sigh. He played with the knobs of the stove, trying to find the right one that went with
the burner he was trying to use. Viola, too, was having issues with being unable to crack eggs
properly.

“Are you sure you don't just want cereal?” Mrs. Granger asked, trying and failing to keep a
straight face.

“I'm sure. Vi and I want a *real* breakfast,” Mr. Granger grumbled. “Right, Vi?”

“Right!” Viola chirped. She frowned at the bowl, brow furrowing in concentration as she
attempted to crack another egg. Hermione assumed that she had gotten some egg shells into the yolk
because she let out an angry cry. “Daddy, I can't do this!”

“Just a minute, sweetie,” he replied. He tapped the burner with his finger quickly. “Aha!” He
shot a victorious grin at Hermione and Mrs. Granger, who both burst out laughing.

“You could help us,” Viola grumbled, shooting a glare at Hermione.

“I'm happy with my cereal, thanks.” Hermione gave her sister a bright smile before shoving a
spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

Mr. Granger went over and began to scoop some of the egg shells out of the bowl. Viola stepped
down from the stool she was standing on and went to go grab the bread. “Now what?” she asked.

“We dip the bread into the bowl and then put it on the frying pan.” Mr. Granger replied, looking
at the stove. He frowned. “We need a frying pan.”

Hermione and Mrs. Granger burst out laughing again. Viola glared at them and began rummaging
through all the cupboards she could reach to get a frying pan. Mrs. Granger grinned at Hermione and
leaned towards her. “Think we should tell them where it is?” she whispered.

“No,” Hermione giggled.

Mrs. Granger winked at her and watched as Viola pulled a frying pan out. “Found it!” she
grinned, turning around to stick her tongue out at them.

Hermione's smile dropped a little as she saw that all the burners on the stove had been
turned on and were beginning to turn red. “Mum,” she pointed at them.

Mrs. Granger bit her lip. “We'll tell them only if we see they're getting close to
it.”

Mr. Granger took the frying pan from Viola and placed it on the burner. He also noticed that the
other burners were on and began playing with the knobs again, trying to find what ones to shut off.
Hermione and Mrs. Granger started laughing as he turned off the burner he had put the frying pan
on.

Viola jumped back up onto her stool and placed the bread by the bowl of egg yolk. As she was
opening the bag and grabbing a slice, her elbow nudged the bowl with enough force to tip it over.
All the yolk flew from the bowl and onto the burners, immediately beginning to sizzle. Mrs. Granger
jumped up and took over as Mr. Granger let out a slew of curses.

“I'm sorry!” Viola cried, jumping off the stool.

“It was an accident, sweetie,” Mr. Granger said, standing back as he watched his wife turn off
all the burners. Hermione coughed as the eggs began to burn and quickly began to open up the
windows in the kitchen.

“Go open the window in the living room too,” Mrs. Granger instructed.

Hermione left the kitchen and went to the living room window, opening it. As she turned to go
back into the kitchen, a loud rustling sound caught her attention. She turned her head to look back
over her shoulder and froze.

A tawny owl was perched on the window sill, ruffling its feathers and looking directly at
Hermione. Clasped tightly in its beak was a thick looking envelope. “Mum,” she called, turning
around to face the owl. “Mum!”

“It can wait, Hermione,” her mother called from the kitchen.

Hermione took a step to the side and watched as the owl's gaze followed her every move. “No,
it can't.”

Mrs. Granger appeared in the doorway seconds later and gasped when she saw the owl. “Go on,” she
said, hurrying in front of Hermione and flicking the dish towel at it. “Get out of - AGGH!”

The owl had begun to ruffle its feathers as Mrs. Granger shooed it and took off towards the two
girls. Hermione and Mrs. Granger screamed and dropped to the floor as the owl swooped into the room
and over their heads. Hermione felt something drop onto her head and saw the envelope bounce to the
floor in front of her. She reached out and grabbed it as the owl did one more sweep of the room and
then exited through the window.

“What's wrong?” Mr. Granger asked, running into the room. His eyes widened when he saw the
two of them on the floor and hurried over to them. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“An owl flew into the room,” Mrs. Granger said, sounding dazed. She picked herself up off the
floor and went to the window, closing and locking it. “Are you okay, Hermione?”

“An owl?” Mr. Granger said incredulously. “At this time of day?”

“I'm fine, mum,” Hermione said. She smoothed out the edge of the envelope that had been
crumbled when it hit her head, her eyes roaming the front of it. Her breath caught when she saw her
name written in emerald green ink, followed by `*113 Walton Street, Oxford,
Oxfordshire**.*' She turned the envelope over and saw that it was sealed with a purple
wax seal. A coat of arms was pressed into the wax with four animals - a lion, a snake, an eagle,
and a badger - surrounding the letter `H'. Flipping the envelope back over, Hermione looked for
a return address or a stamp and found none.

“Hermione?”

“Yes?” Hermione's head snapped up to see both her parents looking at her. Viola had entered
the room as well and was peering curiously at her.

“What do you have there?” Mr. Granger asked.

“The owl dropped this,” she said, holding up the letter so her parents could see. “It's
addressed to me.”

“Addressed to you?” Mrs. Granger repeated, glancing at Mr. Granger.

Hermione got up from the floor and went to go sit on the couch, still studying the letter. She
flicked her finger under the seal and opened the envelope, pulling out two letters. Glancing up at
her parents, who both nodded for her to read it, Hermione licked her lips and opened up the first
letter. She scanned it before reading it out loud, frowning in confusion as she read the list of
achievements underneath *Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore*.

“What does it say?” Mrs. Granger asked impatiently.

“*Dear Miss Granger*,” Hermione read, starting to feel a bit shaky. “*We are pleased to
inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find
enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl
by no later than 31 July. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress.*”

Hermione looked up at her parents and was met with their shocked expressions. She grabbed the
second letter and opened it, seeing that it was a list of books and equipment for the school.
“W-witchcraft?” Mr. Granger stammered.

“What's going on?” Viola asked, looking between Hermione and their parents. “What's the
letter Minny got talking about?”

“I don't know,” Mrs. Granger said, taking the letter from Hermione.

The doorbell rang, making everyone jump. Without thinking, Hermione jumped up and grabbed the
letter from her mother and rushed to get the door. She ignored her parents' protests and
unlocked the door and opened it, her mouth dropping open at the sight of the woman standing on the
doorstep.

A tall, elderly woman was staring down at Hermione from behind square-rimmed glasses with a
slight smile, her black hair pulled back into an impossibly tight bun. She was dressed in a type of
emerald green robe that Hermione had never seen before.

“Miss Hermione Granger?” she guessed. Hermione nodded; she could tell just from her tone that
she was a no nonsense type of woman.

“Hermione!” Mrs. Granger scolded, coming to the door. “How many times have we told you not to
open the door for strangers - oh?”

“Good morning,” the woman greeted. “Please forgive my rudeness, but may I come in? The children
are starting to notice me.”

Hermione looked behind her and saw that the few kids that were outside playing had stopped to
stare at the oddly dressed woman. “Who are you?” Mrs. Granger asked, not stepping aside.

The woman sighed, “I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry.” She said all of this almost automatically, like she had done this many
times before. Hermione remembered reading the name in the letter and quickly opened it. “Yes, I was
the one who sent you the letter.”

Mrs. Granger slowly stepped aside and let her enter the house. “You're here to explain all
of this, I assume?”

“You're correct,” she answered. She followed Mrs. Granger into the living room. Hermione
shot one last glance at the kids, who had started playing again, and closed the door. She hurried
back into the living room and saw that the woman had taken a seat on the couch. Mr. Granger was
looking warily at her and Viola was openly staring.

“David,” Mrs. Granger said, looking uncomfortable. “This is Mrs. -”

“Professor,” Professor McGonagall corrected.

“Erm, yes,” Mrs. Granger stuttered. “This is Professor Minerva McGonagall. She was the one who
sent Hermione the letter.”

Mr. Granger blinked and cleared his throat. “Viola,” he said, “go play outside.”

“What?” Viola cried. “No! I want to stay!”

“Viola,” Mr. Granger warned. Viola stomped her foot and stormed up the stairs. Hermione winced
and glanced at Professor McGonagall as they heard a door slam moments later. He sighed, “I'm
sorry about that.”

“That's perfectly alright,” Professor McGonagall said. She settled into the couch and looked
expectantly at the family. “There's no doubt that you have questions about the letter Miss
Granger received, so feel free to ask me anything and I will answer to the best of my ability.”

“Witchcraft?” Mr. Granger blurted out. “You honestly can't expect us to just *believe*
all of this is real and send our daughter off to some school we know nothing about.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Granger, magic is very real and has been around since the evolution
of mankind,” Professor McGonagall said calmly. “The only reason you have never heard of it is
because we decided it was best for us witches and wizards to keep to ourselves.”

“But someone ought to have noticed,” Mr. Granger argued.

“And people have. I believe the most famous incident was the American Salem Witch Trials of the
sixteen-hundreds,” Professor McGonagall said. “Although muggle history has taught you that the
Salem Witch Trials were just silly little girls wanting revenge.”

“M-muggle?” Mr. Granger asked, looking slightly offended.

“A muggle is what we call a non-magical person such as yourself,” she explained. Mr. Granger
sputtered and couldn't form a sentence. Hermione couldn't remember the last time she saw
her father get so flustered.

“Proof!” Mrs. Granger said shrilly, making Hermione jump. She coughed and cleared her throat.
“If all of this really *is* true then you'll be able to show us some… *magic*… right
now, right?”

“Jane,” Mr. Granger said warningly but was shot down with a glare.

Professor McGonagall sighed and reached into her robes. Mr. and Mrs. Granger stiffened as she
withdrew a long stick with a handle near the thicker end. She pointed the stick at Hermione,
flicked her wrist, and said “*Accio* Hogwarts letter.”

Hermione yelped as the letter was wrenched from her grip and shot across the room into Professor
McGonagall's waiting hand. Mr. and Mrs. Granger both stared with slack jaws as Professor
McGonagall placed the letter on the coffee table.

“Can you do something else?” Hermione asked, eager to see more.

“How about I show you something you'll be learning your first year?” Professor McGonagall
asked.

Hermione nodded her head eagerly, ignoring the look her parents gave her. Professor McGonagall
looked around the room and pointed the stick at the television remote. “**Wingardium Leviosa*,*” she said with
another flick of her wrist.

There was a collective gasp as the remote began to levitate off the coffee table and hover in
the air about three feet high. Hermione briefly saw a smug smile go across Professor
McGonagall's face, but it disappeared a moment later. Hermione got up and walked towards the
remote, moving her hand above and beneath it. She expected to feel some sort of wire holding the
remote up and her stomach did a flip when she just felt air. “This is amazing,” she breathed.

Professor McGonagall let the remote float back down to the coffee table. Mr. and Mrs. Granger
stared with wide eyes, Mr. Granger whiter than usual. “How…” Mrs. Granger said faintly. “How did
you do that?”

“Magic,” Professor McGonagall said simply. “That was one of the spells Miss Granger would be
learning this year if she were to go to Hogwarts.”

“How do you know that our Hermione can do *that*?” Mrs. Granger asked.

“Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall said, turning to look directly at Hermione, “have you
noticed that when you felt a particularly strong emotion, be that anger or joy, something strange
would happen? Something that couldn't be explained?”

“Claire,” Hermione whispered, looking at her father who had the same look of realization on his
face. “The book hit her when we were fighting.”

Professor McGonagall smiled softly. “Can you think of anything else?”

Hermione frowned. Strange things *had* happened when she had been bullied at school.
Flickering lights, bursts of air that came from nowhere. “Yes,” she said slowly. Her eyes widened.
“The zoo!”

“Excuse me?” Mrs. Granger asked.

“The zoo! When we were in the reptile house during Claire's birthday party,” she said. “That
boy was being bullied and I felt so bad for him and the glass disappeared after he had been hit!
And then when the snake was heading in my direction I suddenly appeared on the bookshelf!”

“I beg your pardon?” Professor McGonagall asked, her eyebrows shooting up.

“I was scared and went to jump up on the table and but ended up on a bookshelf like… ten feet
away,” Hermione said slowly. “Did I do something wrong?”

“On the contrary, Miss Granger,” she said, sounding impressed. “You did something quite
extraordinary.”

“Hold on,” Mrs. Granger said. “What did Hermione do?”

“One of the ways witches and wizards get around is by Apparition… which is basically magical
teleportation,” Professor McGonagall explained when she saw the confused look on everyone's
face. “It's an extremely difficult procedure and can be quite painful if done incorrectly.”

“And Hermione did this no problem?” Mr. Granger asked slowly.

“Well, a form of it,” she said. “True Apparition requires a wand, but there have been a few
underage witches and wizards who were able to Apparate across the room before even purchasing their
wand. It's still not recommended, but children who aren't old enough to go to Hogwarts
can't control their magic.”

Hermione brought herself to full height, pride welling up in her chest as Professor McGonagall
explained all this. She was able to do something many other children, *magical* children,
weren't. “Miss Granger,” she continued, “when strange things did happen around you, how did you
feel?”

“How did I feel?” Hermione frowned. “I guess it usually happens when I'm angry.”

“No, sorry I should have explained myself better,” she said, giving a small chuckle. “How did
you feel *inside* when strange things happened?”

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to remember how she felt during those times. “It was almost
like a bubble,” she said slowly, opening her eyes. She looked at Professor McGonagall who was
staring intently at her. “And I remember it felt like it was spinning or moving around… like a
pressure. And it felt almost like it was trying to get out.”

Professor McGonagall nodded. “That,” she said, “is what untrained magic feels like.”

“But why Hermione?” Mr. Granger asked. “Why does she have… magical powers?”

“Somewhere in your family, many generations ago, a Squib was born,” Professor McGonagall said
carefully. “That Squib married a muggle and the children they produced were of muggle decent.”

“Squib?” Mrs. Granger asked.

“A Squib is someone who was born with magical parents but doesn't have any magic in
them.”

“So we had witches and wizards in our family at some point in time?” Hermione asked, trying to
understand.

“Exactly, yes,” Professor McGonagall nodded. “The magic died out but it was only a matter of
time before it resurfaced.”

“How did you know that Hermione had these things happen to her?” Mrs. Granger asked, looking
like she didn't want to believe all of this.

“Our Ministry has a department just for underage magic,” she explained. “If someone who is under
the age of seventeen performs magic, be it consciously or unconsciously, the Ministry is notified
by that department. That's how we found out Miss Granger was a witch.”

Hermione felt a tingle go through her as Professor McGonagall spoke those words. “Where do we go
to get the supplies needed?” she asked, excitement starting to creep up on her.

“Now hold on,” Mr. Granger said quickly. “Hermione, we haven't decided on whether or not
you're going.”

“Why?” Hermione asked. “This is why I never fit in with the other kids! You always told me I was
special and this explains it.”

“Where is this Hogwarts, anyway?” Mrs. Granger asked weakly, stopping the argument that was
going to happen between father and daughter.

“Hogwarts is located in northern Scotland.”

“So that means Hermione would have to leave home,” Mrs. Granger stated.

“Yes, they have dorms for the students where they will live during their seven years at
Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall explained. “Students are allowed to go home during the Christmas
and Easter holidays and in the summer.”

“And I suppose you fly or something to get there?” Mr. Granger said sarcastically. Hermione shot
him a glare.

“The train to Hogwarts is actually at Kings' Cross Station,” Professor McGonagall
retorted.

“But we've been there many -” Mr. Granger began.

“We are very good at hiding things from muggles,” Professor McGonagall interrupted. “Plus we
have spells and enchantments to help us out.”

“And tuition?” Mrs. Granger asked, rubbing her forehead

“Hogwarts is publicly funded. There is no fee for our students to attend, the only things
students have to pay for is the supplies on the list,” she said. “And to answer your earlier
question, you get everything at Diagon Alley, which is in London on Charing Cross Road.”

“But we've-” Mr. Granger began again.

“Again, we're very good at hiding things in plain sight.” Professor McGonagall said with a
stiff smile. “I know you are having a difficult time grasping this. I've been doing this many
years and you aren't the first parents to act this way. This is difficult; you're thrust
into this suddenly and not given a lot of time to make a final decision. However, I believe this is
Miss Granger's destiny. I can tell right now that she has a lot of potential, and with the
right training she can be a very powerful and influential witch.”

Hermione felt a shift in the room at Professor McGonagall's words. Her parents were staring
at her with sorrowful, thoughtful expressions. She got up and looked around the room. “I have a
meeting to be at soon, but I will be back in the area tomorrow - another muggleborn will hopefully
be joining us at Hogwarts,” she said, smoothing out her robes. “I will stop by and then we can
discuss your decision.”

With a nod, Professor McGonagall let herself out.

**<><><>**

Hermione sat at the kitchen table, biting her lip as she watched her parents shoot glances at
each other. Viola sat beside Hermione, still mad that she had been left out of the conversation,
and confused about what all of it meant. “Well?” Hermione asked, breaking the silence.

“I don't know, sweetheart,” Mr. Granger said, rubbing his eyes. They had been discussing
Hogwarts for the entire day and Hermione felt that they, at last, were close to reaching a
decision. “We always knew you were special, but didn't think it was like this.”

“I want to go,” Hermione said quietly. “If it's my destiny -”

“I don't like how she used that word,” Mr. Granger grumbled.

Hermione shot a glare at her father. “Either way,” she said, “it just all seemed to click into
place when she was explaining it. It's a world I want to be a part of.”

“We're just worried that you'll get there and realize that it isn't for you,” Mrs.
Granger said, placing a hand on Hermione's arm.

“I won't,” she protested. “I know I won't.”

“Hermione -” Mr. Granger began.

“Daddy,” Hermione interrupted. “We've been discussing this for hours. We've talked about
the pros and the cons and what this could mean. And even through all of that, I still want to go.
You know I'm not going to change my mind.”

“Yes,” he sighed. “You're entirely too stubborn for that.”

“It's just so far away and you don't even go to sleepovers,” Mrs. Granger said quickly.
“We would miss you so much.”

“I don't want you to go,” Viola stated.

“I'm sorry,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “This is my decision. I want to go.”

Mr. Granger ran a hand through his hair. “I'll tell you what,” he said, glancing at Mrs.
Granger, who nodded. “Your mother and I will discuss this and let you know in the morning before
Professor McGonagall arrives.”

“But I should be a part of the decision,” Hermione argued, getting frustrated. She felt like
they were back where they started, and the hours of discussion and arguments had meant nothing.
“This is *my* future so it's only right for me to be a part of the discussion.”

“We also don't know if any of this is real,” Mrs. Granger offered.

“What?” Hermione laughed incredulously. “You *saw* Professor McGonagall make the letter fly
across the room. You *saw* her levitate the remote! It doesn't get any more real than
that!”

Mrs. Granger squeezed the bridge of her nose as Mr. Granger sighed. “It just doesn't make
sense,” he said. “There's a logical explanation for *everything* -”

“No there isn't!” Hermione yelled, fed up with her father's `logical explanation'
speech. She had heard it at least five times in the past couple of hours and had had enough. She
stood up from her seat as pressure started to mount in her gut. “There doesn't have to be a
logical explanation for *everything*!”

A glass on the counter shattered, making everyone jump. “Hermione…” Mrs. Granger said
shakily.

“I-I think I might've done that,” she stammered, staring at the now broken shards in shock
and all anger momentarily forgotten.

“That was so cool!” Viola gasped. “Do it again, Minny!”

“I can't,” she said sheepishly. “I don't know how to do it.”

Viola pouted. Hermione shrugged her shoulders and went over to the counter, picking up the glass
shards. She heard her parents talking quietly behind her and tried to ignore them, focusing on not
cutting herself. Once all the glass was thrown out, she turned to her parents. They looked up and
Hermione was surprised to see that Mrs. Granger had tears in her eyes. “Okay,” she said simply.

“Okay?” Hermione asked, not wanting to believe them.

Mrs. Granger swallowed thickly and nodded, “You can go.”

“Really?” Hermione asked. They nodded. Hermione let out a squeal and rushed over to her parents,
giving them both huge hugs. “Thank you!” she laughed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Does this mean Minny will be moving?” Viola asked. Hermione stilled, realizing that she would
be.

“That's why we're having such a hard time letting her go,” Mr. Granger said softly.
Hermione watched as Viola's face fell and tears formed. She felt guilty immediately. Mr.
Granger got up and went over to Viola, who launched herself into his arms.

“Don't feel bad,” Mrs. Granger whispered, standing up and hugging her from behind.
“She'll be okay.”

“You know that I don't want to leave you guys, right?” Hermione asked, starting to get teary
eyed herself. “If I could stay here *and* go to Hogwarts, I would.”

“We know, baby.”

Hermione turned around in her mother's arms and hugged her tightly. “I love you, mum.”

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{****}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**End Note:** **Hermione got her letter! Hermione got her letter! About time, right?
Everything is going to be so much more exciting now!** **I'll see you guys next
week!**

**Read and review!**

**Kelci**

-->



5. Four: Diagon Alley
---------------------



**Four**

**“Diagon Alley”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit.**

**Note One:** **I'm alive!! I am so sorry for the delay, real life and computer issues
got in the way (teehee that rhymed). But things are better now and I'm back, baby! I have**
**not** **abandoned this.**

**EDITED 06/11/2011: Just some date changes and minor edits.**

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**21 July, 1991**

By eight o'clock the next morning, Hermione was already dressed and waiting in the living
room for Professor McGonagall. She hadn't said when she would be stopping by, and Hermione
didn't want to risk the chance of being caught in her pajamas when she returned. Time crept by
at a snail's pace. She had tried reading, watching television, and even cleaning but it did
nothing to help pass the time.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger came down at around ten, shaking their heads when they saw Hermione perched
by the window. “How long have you been there?” Mrs. Granger asked.

“Since eight,” Hermione replied. The street was full of the neighborhood children playing and
she felt a twinge of annoyance. How was Professor McGonagall going to get there? She definitely
dressed differently and would stand out in such a crowded street.

“Have you eaten?” Mrs. Granger asked. Hermione shook her head. “I'll go get you some toast.”
Mrs. Granger clicked her tongue and went into the kitchen, Mr. Granger following her mumbling about
coffee.

A flash of green fabric down the street caught Hermione's eye. She gasped and yanked open
the window, poking her head out to see if it was Professor McGonagall, but it had disappeared as
soon as she tried to get a better look. Hermione sighed and slouched against the window pane,
feeling panic start to set in as she watched the children play. What if the entire thing was some
elaborate prank? She couldn't think of anyone would be cruel enough to do that to her (Claire
wasn't smart enough to make up something that complicated) but now that she had time to think
everything through, the whole idea of magic seemed to be too good to be true.

“What's taking so long?” Hermione mumbled, watching as a tabby cat marched up the street.
She watched as the cat stopped in front of the house and turned to look at Hermione. Frowning,
Hermione looked at the cat; something about the face looked familiar but she couldn't place
where she had seen the animal before. The cat swished it's tail and made its way up the
driveway and towards the window, crouching down and jumping up onto the window sill.

“H-hey!” she sputtered, springing away from the window.

The cat paused to look at Hermione and then jumped into the room, its shape starting to change
form as it landed on the carpet. Hermione's jaw dropped when the cat disappeared and Professor
McGonagall stood exactly where it had been. She smoothed out her robes and offered a smile to
Hermione, “Good morning, Miss Granger.”

“How did you…” Hermione trailed off. “You were a *cat*.”

“I'm an Animagus,” Professor McGonagall explained. She nodded as Mr. and Mrs. Granger
entered the room, Mrs. Granger almost dropping the toast when she saw Professor McGonagall standing
by the window. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Mrs. Granger squeaked. “I-I didn't hear the door.”

“An Ani-what?” Hermione asked, ignoring her parents.

“An Animagus,” she repeated. “I'm able to transform into the cat you just saw at will.”

“And I can learn that at Hogwarts?” Hermione asked eagerly, all thoughts of doubt completely
gone.

“Not at Hogwarts, no,” Professor McGonagall shook her head. “Becoming an Animagus is a very
difficult and dangerous procedure. Few people are able to successfully become an Animagus.”

“Wow,” Hermione breathed. If it was that hard to become an Animagus then Professor McGonagall
must have been an extremely powerful witch.

“But I'm not here to discuss that,” Professor McGonagall looked towards Mr. and Mrs.
Granger. “I assume you have come to a decision?”

“I'm going to Hogwarts,” Hermione said quickly.

Professor McGonagall had an almost amused look on her face as she turned to Hermione. “Do your
parents agree with that as well?” Hermione flushed.

“Yes, we do,” Mr. Granger said with some difficulty. “We were discussing it last night and
…”

“I broke a glass,” Hermione admitted, feeling her face heat up even more.

“It was that bit of… magic,” Mrs. Granger said, having trouble with saying the word, “that made
the decision, really.”

Professor McGonagall broke out into a true smile. “I am quite happy to hear that,” she
expressed, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out another envelope and handed it to Hermione.
“This is your train ticket to the Hogwarts Express. You don't have to worry about sending an
owl to confirm your enrollment. I'll just inform Professor Dumbledore myself.”

“And you said to get my supplies we have to go to Charing Cross Road in London?” Hermione asked,
taking the envelope. Excitement started to creep up on her. She really *was* a witch.

“Yes. To get to Diagon Alley from muggle London you'll have to go to Charing Cross Road and
enter through the Leaky Cauldron.”

“But if it's been hidden from mu -non-magical people,” Hermione said, catching herself as
she almost said muggle, “how will we find it?”

“Well now that you know it exists, you'll be able to spot it,” Professor McGonagall
explained patiently. She turned to Mr. and Mrs. Granger. “There are wards to make muggles bypass it
completely but once Miss Granger touches the door, you'll be able to see it as well.”

“Where on the street is it?” Hermione asked.

“It's been a *long* time since I last used that entrance to Diagon Alley,” Professor
McGonagall admitted rather reluctantly. “I believe there was a bookshop next to the Leaky Cauldron,
but it may have changed.”

“The Leaky Cauldron?”

“The Leaky Cauldron is a pub,” she said. “Talk to the innkeeper Tom and he'll help you get
into Diagon Alley. I would advise you go to Gringotts first to set up an account.”

“And what's Gringotts?” Hermione couldn't stop herself from asking. She bit her lip,
hoping she wasn't annoying her soon-to-be teacher.

“It's our bank,” she explained. If Professor McGonagall was annoyed by all the questions
Hermione was asking, she did a good job hiding it. “Gringotts is a big white building down the
street, it's hard to miss. They have exchange rates for muggle money so you'll be able to
get some of our money to buy things. It's not necessary right now, but if you want you may
choose to set a vault up. It's always handy to have money ready for you.”

Mr. Granger nodded, processing all of the information. “Would it be wise to bring our youngest
to Diagon Alley?” he asked.

Professor McGonagall frowned. “It's possible,” she said slowly. “But not advisable.
She's quite young, yes?”

“She just turned eight,” Mrs. Granger confirmed, sharing a look with her husband.

“If it was me, I wouldn't bring her,” Professor McGonagall shook her head. “Bringing a
muggle child into Diagon Alley would not be the smartest thing to do, especially one who has no
knowledge of magic. Plus there's the risk of her telling her friends.”

Mr. Granger nodded. “Wait a minute,” Mrs. Granger said quickly. “What are we supposed to tell
the rest of our family and friends? I'm assuming that you'll want us to keep quiet about
Hogwarts, but they're going to notice if Hermione is suddenly off to some school none of us
have heard of.”

“Usually, parents of muggleborns are entrusted to come up with a backstory,” Professor
McGonagall explained. “I'm assuming that Miss Granger had applied for different schools,
right?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Then there's nothing to worry about. The Ministry has a `school' for muggleborns to use
as an excuse,” Professor McGonagall stated. She smirked. “We do have a Muggle-Worthy Excuse
Committee, after all.”

“Really?” Hermione asked, laughing at the name.

“It's not the best name for a committee, but it does its job,” she stated plainly. “I'll
get someone from the committee to owl you pamphlets and an acceptance letter to show as proof of
Miss Granger's enrollment.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said. Her stomach fluttered excitedly when Professor McGonagall said
`owl.'

Professor McGonagall nodded. “Now, is there anything else? I need to be going over and talking
with the other child.”

“Who is it?” Hermione asked eagerly.

“I'm not at liberty to tell,” she said. “Anything else?”

“Is there any chance of Viola, our other daughter, being a witch?” Mrs. Granger asked, looking
frightened.

“I'm afraid I can't say,” Professor McGonagall began slowly. “There have been cases
where muggleborn siblings both got their acceptance letters, but that's really only happened
for twins. Only time will tell. She just hit that age where if she does have any magic in her,
it'll start to show when her emotions get the best of her. But the chances of her being a witch
are slim to none.”

“Alright,” Mrs. Granger said, looking relieved. Her eyes widened, “Not that I have anything
against you!”

“Don't worry, I know what you meant. “ Professor McGonagall smiled. “Now, if that's all,
I best be going. I'll see you on September the first, Miss Granger.”

Hermione watched as Professor McGonagall morphed back into the cat and jumped out the window.
She disappeared behind some trees and Hermione turned to her parents. “I can't believe this is
really happening,” she said faintly, looking at the envelope in her hand.

“Neither can we,” Mrs. Granger said shakily. Mr. Granger sat down on the couch and stared at the
window, shaking his head.

“Can we go to Diagon Alley today?” Hermione asked. She only had a little under a month and a
half until she'd go to Hogwarts and wanted to be as prepared as possible; she *was* going
into the school at a disadvantage to the other students.

“I don't know, Hermione,” Mr. Granger said, “It's over an hour's drive to
London.”

“Please?” she pouted, making her eyes go wide and jutting out her lower lip.

Mr. Granger laughed and rolled his eyes. “Alright, fine, just stop making that face,” he
teased.

“I'll go call mum and see if she can look after Vi,” Mrs. Granger said, looking and sounding
overwhelmed.

“Are we going to keep it from them too?” Mr. Granger asked as Mrs. Granger went to the
phone.

“Yes, we probably should,” she said, dialing. “I don't want to but…”

Hermione left her parents and ran up the stairs and into her room, letting out an excited squeal
as she shut the door behind her. She hurried to her desk and pulled open a drawer, grabbing the
envelope that held her allowance she had been saving for the past year. Hermione was glad her
parents made her save the money instead of spending it. She didn't know, or really understand,
what the exchange rate was like but hoped that she would be able to buy a few extra books with the
money. Placing the envelope that held the train ticket to Hogwarts where the money had been,
Hermione closed the drawer and locked it.

She set the money on her desk and went to her closet, grabbing the small purse Uncle Robert and
Aunt Mary had gotten her for Christmas. She stuffed the money into it and grabbed the envelope
containing the list of supplies she'd need from the nightstand by her bed, quickly double
checking to make sure it was there. She placed it carefully into her purse and closed it, slinging
the purse of her shoulder and exiting her room.

Viola was just heading out of her bedroom as Hermione closed her door, still in her pajamas and
looking sleepy.

“What's going on?” she asked, rubbing her eyes. She caught sight of Hermione's purse and
immediately went alert. “Where are you going?”

“Mum and daddy are taking me school shopping,” Hermione replied slowly, unsure of how her sister
would react.

“You mean Hogwarts?” Hermione nodded and Viola gasped. “I want to go!”

“You can't, Vi,” Hermione said softly, feeling bad. “Professor McGonagall said it
wouldn't be a good idea if you went.”

“Well, I'm a witch too then,” she decided, marching off down the stairs.

“Viola,” Hermione sighed, following her.

Mrs. Granger hung up the phone just as the two girls entered the room. “Look who finally woke
up,” she said, smiling at Viola. “How would you like to spend the day with grandma and
grandpa?”

“No,” Viola said, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Excuse me?” Mr. Granger asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I'm a witch now too so I get to go shopping with you,” she insisted.

“Viola,” Mrs. Granger sighed, glancing at Hermione. She winced and mouthed `*sorry*' as
her mother knelt down in front of Viola and stroked her arms. “We don't know if you're a
witch or not. But as of right now, you're just Viola. So you can't come with us.”

“But I want to,” she whined.

“Viola,” Mrs. Granger repeated sternly, “big girls don't whine.”

Viola jutted out her bottom lip but kept quiet, glowering at her mother.

“How about I show you what I bought when we get back?” Hermione offered, knowing her
sister's feelings were hurt. “And I'll tell you everything that happened.”

“Promise?” Viola asked in a small voice.

“Promise,” Hermione nodded.

“I guess that'd be okay,” she agreed reluctantly.

**<><><>**

Hermione's grandparents arrived at the house soon after and the next thing she knew, she was
in the family car and headed towards London. She fidgeted and watched the country side go by,
ignoring the fact that she probably looked like Viola had when they were going to the zoo. Mr.
Granger had a habit of driving a little over the speed limit but seemed to be going excruciatingly
slow today. Hermione glanced at him, half-tempted to ask him to speed up. She decided against it
though, not wanting to push her luck today. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he pulled
into a parking spot on Charing Cross Road. Hermione quickly unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of
the car, waiting impatiently on the sidewalk as her parents took their time.

“So what are we looking for?” Mr. Granger asked, locking the car doors.

“Professor McGonagall said that it used to be beside a bookshop,” Hermione said, scanning the
street for one. She saw a bookshop a little ways down the street and her heart leapt into her
throat when she saw a grungy looking pub beside it. “I see it!” she squealed, earning bemused looks
from people passing by as she started towards it. Mr. and Mrs. Granger weren't walking fast
enough for Hermione's liking and she rolled her eyes, grabbing Mrs. Granger's hand. “Come
on, come on!”

“Hermione,” Mrs. Granger laughed, allowing her to pull her.

Hermione stopped in front of the pub and saw a sign above the door. With a closer look, she
could see that it said `*The Leaky Cauldron*.' “This is it!” she exclaimed, turning around
to grin at her parents. Her parents weren't looking at it, but at the record shop next to
it.

“There's already a shop here,” Mr. Granger pointed out.

“You don't see it?” Hermione asked.

“I see a record shop.”

Remembering Professor McGonagall's words about her parents not being able to see the door,
Hermione dropped her mother's hand and reached out to grasp the door handle. She grinned,
hearing the startled gasps behind her.

“I don't believe it,” Mrs. Granger breathed.

Hermione bit her lip and looked back, unable to keep the grin off her face as she pulled open
the door and stepped inside.

The first thing that registered when Hermione entered the Leaky Cauldron was that it was
extremely dark and had a musky scent to it. She blinked a couple times to adjust to the darkness as
Mr. and Mrs. Granger came up behind her, ushering her farther into the pub.

“Quite dark, isn't it?” Mrs. Granger commented, looking around with wide eyes.

Hermione nodded as she looked around. There was a group of people sitting at the table near the
bar, dressed almost exactly like the way Professor McGonagall had been dressed, but in different
colours. A cloaked figure (Hermione couldn't tell if it was a man or woman) sat at a small
table off to the side, hovering over its mug. Hermione felt her parents grip her shoulders
protectively as they passed.

Up at the bar the bartender, Professor McGonagall had said his name was Tom, was wiping down the
counter while talking to a slender woman in magenta robes. Hermione wasn't sure what she had
been expecting when she thought of what Tom might've looked like, but she hadn't expected
what she saw. Bald with a bit of a hunch, Tom looked like had no teeth and almost reminded her of
Quasimodo from the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Hermione tore her eyes away from Tom to look back at her parents. Both of them were frozen,
staring around the pub with wide, almost scared eyes. She sighed, figuring she would have to do
most of the talking and took a step towards the bar. However, Hermione's bravado began to waver
the closer she got and, by the time she stopped in front of Tom, she was trembling.

“E-excuse me,” she stammered, her nerves getting the better of her.

Tom looked away from the woman, his eyes sweeping over Hermione and then going to Mr. and Mrs.
Granger. He smiled, revealing that he did, in fact, have no teeth. “Good afternoon,” he said, “what
can I help you with?”

“It's, um,” Hermione paused, looking back at her parents. They hadn't moved from where
she left them and were getting some strange looks from the table near the bar. “M-my parents are
muggles, so…”

“Ah,” he said, wiping his hands on the towel, “no need to explain. First time heading into
Diagon Alley?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied, gaining courage. She watched as he went around the counter and stopped
in front of her. Hermione held out her hand and was proud to see that it wasn't shaking.
“I'm Hermione Granger.”

“It's a pleasure, Miss Granger,” he grasped her hand and shook it. “Just call me Tom.” He
glanced up at her parents, then back to her and gave her a gummy smile. “Just follow me, I'll
show you how to get into Diagon Alley.”

He motioned for her to follow him and began walking across the bar. Hermione glanced back at her
parents, who were still looking around. “Come on,” she hissed. They snapped out of whatever trance
they were in and followed Hermione closely as she exited through the door she saw Tom go out
of.

Tom was waiting for them out in a small, walled courtyard. “Behind here is Diagon Alley,” Tom
explained, taking his wand out from the pocket of his apron. “You'll want to remember this for
when you get your own wand.” Hermione nodded and watched as he tapped a brick three times with his
wand. Hermione quickly counted what brick it was and made a mental note to remember it.

Tom stood back as the brick he touched with his wand quivered and started to shift. A small hole
appeared and grew bigger and bigger until the brick wall turned into a large archway. Hermione
gasped as she saw the cobblestone street in front of her. People rushed by, going in and out of
different shops, and just carrying on with their lives. “Welcome to Diagon Alley,” Tom said with
another gummy smile. “I'll be seeing you later, Miss Granger.”

Hermione took a shaky step through the archway, feeling her parents stay close behind her. She
stopped and turned around to thank Tom but the archway had disappeared and the brick wall was back
in place. She turned back and looked around her. A stack of cauldrons glinted in the sunlight off
to her right and a woman was arguing with her son over which one to purchase.

“Professor McGonagall said that Gringotts was down the street,” Mr. Granger said, his voice
wavering.

Hermione nodded and began walking down the street slowly, examining all the different shops. She
felt like it was sensory overload. She wanted to see everything at once and knew she looked like a
fool whipping her head around to look all the different shops and stands. Her heart skipped a beat
when she saw *Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.* written in peeling gold
letters as they passed the old looking shop. Hermione sped up down the street, wanting to hurry and
get some money so she could start buying her supplies.

“Let's not rush things,” Mrs. Granger whispered, looking terrified as they passed the
Apothecary.

“But mum,” she protested, “we need to go get the money so we can buy my supplies.”

“Hermione, this may have clicked into place for you,” Mr. Granger murmured, watching with wide
eyes as two boys around Viola's age chased each other with what looked like large, fake wands,
“but we are still having a hard time adjusting.”

“Sorry,” Hermione said, slowing down. She had to remember that her parents just hadn't
accepted the fact that she was a witch so easily. They continued walking at a slower pace and, as
the street curved, a large white building came into view.

“That must be Gringotts,” Mrs. Granger breathed. Hermione gasped, seeing the doorman. He was
about a foot shorter than her with a slanted forehead and long, pointy nose. His long, thin fingers
were stroking a gold pocket watch as he examined the people passing by.

“Let's go,” Mr. Granger said, looking warily at the small man. Hermione took a deep breath
and started walking towards the door.

As she got close, the little man looked up to them. “Muggleborn?” he asked in a grumbly
voice.

“Erm, yes,” Hermione squeaked.

“For creating an account it's your first door on your left,” he instructed, pulling the door
open for them.

“Thank you,” Hermione said, stepping into the building. She frowned when she looked up to see
another pair of silver doors in front of them and two more of the small men. She looked closer to
see an inscription engraved on the door and read it, shivering at the threat.

Mr. Granger whistled softly after he read it too. The two men bowed as they walked through the
set of doors into the main room. The room was filled with small men on stools behind a very long
counter, all of them quite busy helping customers, weighing what looked to be gold on brass scales,
and examining different jewels and gems. Hermione drew her eyes away from them to look for the door
the man had told them to go through. Sure enough, the first door on the left had a big sign that
read `Starter Accounts'.

“This way,” Hermione instructed, heading towards the door. Mr. and Mrs. Granger hurried behind
her, their eyes wide as they took in the room.

Hermione pushed open the door and walked into a smaller room. Instead of the small men they had
seen out in the bigger room, normal sized people were sitting behind desks. A plump looking woman
looked up as they stepped further into the room and smiled at them. “Bit of a shock walking through
the main branch, isn't it?” she asked.

“You could say that,” Mr. Granger said, laughing nervously.

The woman stood up and motioned to the chairs in front of her desk. “I know I was frightened of
the goblins when I first visited Gringotts.”

“Those were goblins?” Hermione asked, her eyes wide.

“Gringotts is practically run by them,” she said as Hermione and her parents sat down. She sat
down as well and placed her hands on the desk. “There are some humans like me who work here, but
they are mainly in this area to help ease muggleborns into wizarding money and finances.”

“That makes sense,” Mrs. Granger said, nodding slowly. “I honestly don't think I
could've handled talking to a goblin.”

The woman laughed. “A lot of muggles can't,” she said. “So let's get started shall we?
I'm Amelia Anadon and I'll be helping you through all of this.”

“I'm Hermione Granger,” Hermione announced, “and these are my parents David and Jane.”

“It's nice to meet you,” Amelia said. She reached into a drawer and pulled out a small stack
of papers. She flicked through them and pulled out a few pages, handing them over to Mr. and Mrs.
Granger. She picked up a quill and placed it on top of the papers, also placing a bottle of ink by
them. “I just have to ask you to go over some of the paperwork and sign.”

Hermione watched as Mr. Granger picked up the first paper and began looking it over, Mrs.
Granger resting on his shoulder to read as well.

Amelia turned to Hermione, “So when did you get your letter?”

“I got it yesterday,” Hermione replied. “Is mail always delivered by owl?”

“Yes is it,” Amelia nodded. “Owls are extremely smart and reliable. Bet it gave you a scare,
though.”

“I thought it was going to attack me,” she admitted sheepishly.

“They can be intense,” Amelia leaned back in her chair. “Is McGonagall still going around to the
muggleborns explaining everything?”

“You know Professor McGonagall?”

“Of course I do,” she laughed. “McGonagall came to my house the day I got my letter.”

“You went to Hogwarts?” Hermione asked, straightening up in her chair.

“Sure did. Everyone goes to Hogwarts. I graduated from Hufflepuff right around the time
You-Know-Who disappeared.”

“Who's You-Know-Who?” Hermione asked. She saw a flash of panic go across Amelia's
face.

“I keep forgetting muggleborns don't know about that,” she said nervously. “You-Know-Who was
a dark wizard who was raising an army to fight against… well, you'll find out soon enough. I
don't want to depress you with the details on your big day shopping at Diagon Alley.”

“Oh, okay.” Hermione said, slightly disappointed. She could tell that Amelia was extremely
uncomfortable with the subject so she didn't push what he was raising an army for, but
couldn't stop from asking another question. “Why do you call him You-Know-Who?”

“Everyone's too scared to call him by his name,” she said quietly, leaning towards Hermione.
Hermione leaned in as well, glancing at Mr. and Mrs. Granger. They were talking quietly to each
other as they went over the papers and not paying attention to Hermione and Amelia's
conversation. “That's how evil a wizard he was. You're going to find out real quick that
people don't like to talk about him, because none of us really know what happened to him.”

“So he just vanished?”

“Seems that way,” Amelia said, shrugging. “All we know is that in October of 1981 You-Know-Who
went to the Potter's house. He killed James Potter and his wife Lily, but when he went to go
kill their son, he couldn't.”

“What do you mean he couldn't?” Hermione asked, leaning forward even more.

“He just couldn't. I don't want to scare you but when you're hit with the killing
curse, that's it - you're dead. But Harry survived. And the kicker, he was only one!”
Hermione felt her eyes widen and Amelia nodded. “Amazing isn't it? After he tried and failed at
killing Harry, he was never seen or heard from again. Some say he died, some say he's just
waiting until he gets his powers back. But who knows.”

“Wow,” Hermione whispered. An awkward silence followed and she cleared her throat. “So, uh,
what's Huffle…uh…?”

“Hufflepuff?” Hermione nodded. “Hufflepuff is one of the four houses that you could be sorted
into at Hogwarts. There's Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin.”

“How do you get sorted into a house?”

Amelia grinned cheekily. “It'd spoil the surprise if I told you, wouldn't it? Don't
worry, it's not bad,” she reassured. “Some of the older students may try to scare you on the
train to Hogwarts, but don't listen to them.”

“Finished,” Mr. Granger said, putting down the papers.

Amelia straightened up and gathered them. “Everything seems to be in order,” she said as the
papers disappeared. They jumped and she grinned. “You'll be used to that in no time, Hermione.”
A moment later two envelopes appeared on her desk. She picked them up and peeked inside.

“This,” Amelia held up the first envelope that had appeared, “is information about our money. We
have Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts. Like muggle money, there are different ways of making up
Galleons and Sickles and that is all explained in here. As for the exchange rate, one pound is
equivalent to three Sickles and eleven Knuts. Five pounds is equivalent to one Galleon and so on.
So if you are not sure on how much money to exchange, just think in fives.”

“How much do you suggest we take for today?” Mrs. Granger asked.

“It really depends on what kind of quality you want. Usually I would suggest taking out around
twenty to twenty five Galleons. It is a little steep, but things add up. The wand is the expensive
piece.”

Hermione reached into her purse and pulled her money out. As she held it out to Amelia, Mr.
Granger put his hand on her wrist and pushed her arm down. “I got it, Hermione,” he said.

“This will be for extra books,” Hermione explained. “I *have* to get more if I want to be
prepared when I go to Hogwarts.”

“Only use half,” he warned. “Save the rest of it.”

“But-” she protested.

“Half,” he repeated sternly, cutting her off.

“Fine,” she grumbled, reaching into the envelope and grabbing half of the amount. She handed it
to Amelia, who had an amused smile.

Mr. Granger pulled out his wallet and handed Amelia the rest of the money. She counted it and it
disappeared, a pouch reappearing where the money had been. She took out a gold, silver, and copper
coin. “Gold is Galleon, silver is Sickle, and copper is Knut.” She dropped the coins back into the
pouch, tightened the string around it and handed it to Hermione. She took it and grinned, enjoying
the feel of the weight in her hand.

“Second envelope,” Amelia said, holding it up, “holds your vault key. You are *not* going
to want to lose this because if you do, you're going to have a hard time getting another.
Anytime you want to get money out of your vault, just show it to a goblin and they'll take you
to it.” She handed the envelope to Mrs. Granger who put it cautiously in her purse.

Hermione put the rest of her money into her vault, along with some extra money that Mr. Granger
pitched in. Amelia stood up and shook their hands. “It was a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “Good
luck and have fun at Hogwarts.”

Hermione left the room, resisting the urge to bolt out of Gringotts and to the shops. She pulled
out the list of things she needed and examined it as Mr. and Mrs. Granger led her out of the bank.
Once outside, they stopped and looked over the list.

“I want to get my wand first,” Hermione said excitedly. They walked down the street where
Hermione had seen Ollivanders.

“This is the wand place?” Mr. Granger asked, glancing at the extremely dirty windows.

“Guess so,” Hermione said, pushing the door open. A bell jingled from somewhere in the shop as
they stepped in. It was an extremely small shop with only a chair in the corner, which Mrs. Granger
went to go sit on. Hermione looked around at the thousands of small narrow boxes piled up wherever
there was shelf space. She licked her lips, almost afraid to call out. It was too quiet.

“Good afternoon,” a soft voice said.

Hermione squeaked and jumped, clutching her chest as her heart raced. An old man with pale eyes
walked around one of the shelves and stared at Hermione. “Uh, hello,” she gasped.

“Oh, my, my,” he said, coming up to Hermione and examining her. “Muggleborn, am I correct?”

“Y-yes, sir,” Hermione said, leaning away as he leaned closer to her.

“And what is your name?”

“Hermione Granger.”

“Well, Miss Granger, I always enjoy finding a wand for muggleborns,” he stated, still peering at
her. She twitched, feeling creeped out by his gaze. “It's always exciting to be a part of the
start of their journey. Now, which is your wand hand?”

“My wand hand?” Hermione asked. “I'm right handed, if that's what you meant.”

“Hold out your arm, please,” he said. Hermione did so and he brought out a measuring tape and
began to measure her arm in different places. “No two wands are the same, Miss Granger. Although
wand cores may come from the same animal or from the same tree, they always have slight differences
that make them unique.”

Mr. Ollivander walked away and began looking at some boxes. He grabbed one and opened it,
pulling a wand out and handing it to Hermione. “Nine and a half inches, phoenix feather, and oak.
Nice and bendy.”

“What do I do?” Hermione asked, feeling foolish.

“Give it a wave and see what happens.”

Hermione glanced at her parents and raised the wand, only to have Mr. Ollivander snatch it out
of her grip and replace it with another. “Ten and three-quarter inches, vine, and made with dragon
heartstring. Great for transfiguration,” he said, standing back to watch her.

As soon as Hermione's hand clasped around the wand, she felt warmth tingle through her.
Raising her hand up, she brought down the wand and was amazed to see red and gold sparks spark out
the end of her wand. Mr. Ollivander was grinning as he took it from her and put it back in the box.
“Very good, very good,” he said. “Congratulations.”

“Wow.” Hermione stared at her hand, still feeling tingly all over.

“That will be seven Galleons, Miss Granger,” Mr. Ollivander said. She reached for the pouch and
counted out seven of the gold coins, handing it to him. He put the box into a bag and held it out
to her. “Just a reminder, Miss Granger, now that you have a wand you are not allowed to use it
until you get to Hogwarts. Any use of magic outside of Hogwarts will result in expulsion.”

Hermione nodded, quite disappointed that she wouldn't be able to try anything for a month.
The tingling had vanished and she wanted to feel that sensation again.

“That was amazing, Hermione,” Mrs. Granger gushed as they left.

“It felt amazing,” she sighed, smiling. She pulled out her list and looked at it. “I guess we
should get my uniform next?”

After a bit of searching, Hermione spotted Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and
dragged her parents in the store. A squat looking witch dressed entirely in purple looked up and
smiled at Hermione as they entered. “Hogwarts, dear?” she asked. Hermione nodded and was taken to a
stool placed in front of a three way mirror. The witch slipped a long black robe over
Hermione's head and began pinning it to the right length.

“We'll just get these robes fitted for you and then I'll get you the blouse and skirt,”
she explained.

“Skirt?” Hermione sighed. She hated wearing skirts and dresses. “Can't I just get a trouser
or something?”

The witch laughed. “No, sorry dear.”

Hermione huffed and stared at her reflection as the witch finished up hemming the robe. She
pulled the robe off of Hermione and led her to the change room, handing her a skirt and blouse.
After making sure everything fit properly, Hermione paid for the uniform sets and exited the
shop.

She glanced around the street, unsure of where to go next. A small display of books outside of a
shop called Flourish and Blotts caught Hermione's attention and she gasped. “Books, mum!” she
squealed, pointing. She heard her parents laugh as she took off to the shop.

Hermione pulled out her list and quickly found all the books that she was supposed to have and
then started browsing on her own. She was in heaven, books were stored floor to ceiling and there
were so many sections that Hermione didn't know where to begin. She grabbed a few history books
and was trying to reach *Hogwarts, A History,* which was on a shelf that was just out of her
reach, when Mr. Granger came up from behind.

“You've been in here long enough,” he said, sounding amused.

“Daddy,” she protested.

“You still have other things to get, don't go spending all of your money on books,” he
scolded, reaching up and grabbing the book. “Let's go pay for these and *if* we have time
after we're done getting the rest of your school supplies, we'll come back.”

Hermione let her father take the books from her arms and watched him go pay for them; she had
given him her pouch of money before they entered the shop. Biting her lip, Hermione debated whether
or not she should go with him but decided against it and went back to looking at the different
books.

“Hermione,” Mrs. Granger laughed, grabbing her arm. She nearly had to pull Hermione away from
the shelf and out of the shop. As they passed Mr. Granger, she shook her head. “I'll be waiting
outside with her.”

After buying the rest of Hermione's school supplies, they found a luggage shop and ended up
buying a trunk for Hermione to put everything into. By the time they were done, it was nearing
dinner time and they still had an hour's drive to get back home. Hermione pouted, trailing
behind her parents as they put everything into the car. She was sad that she didn't get to go
back to Flourish and Blotts and knew that they wouldn't be going back to Diagon Alley for the
rest of the summer.

“I'm sure there's a library at the school that has the same books,” Mrs. Granger
reassured as they all got into the car.

“I guess so,” Hermione said quietly. She clutched *Hogwarts, A History* to her chest as Mr.
Granger pulled out onto the street.

“Well, that was an experience,” he said after a while.

“I know,” Hermione said, grinning. “I can't wait for Hogwarts.” She opened the large book
and started to read as Mr. Granger sped off towards Oxfordshire.

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**End Notes****: Diagon Alley was SO much fun to write. I researched the whole financial
thing and hopefully it's believable for everyone. Next chapter you'll get to meet some of
your favourite characters!**

**Next chapter will most likely be up next week, but that's tentative. I'm starting to
get busy and don't have as much time for writing as I did.**

**Read and Review!**

**Kelci**

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6. Five: And So It Begins...
----------------------------



**Five**

**“And So It Begins…”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit.**

**Note One:** ***warning nerd alert*** **I've** **loved** **the Harry Potter
series ever since I was nine years old (hell I even have a tattoo of the Hogwarts crest!) but I
never realized until I started… let's say studying the first book, did I realize that some
things didn't quite make sense. Like Sally-Anne Perks' mysterious disappearance and the
missing girls for the Gryffindor Girl's dormitory (although I do realize that there isn't
always five girls born the same year who are witches). I did some research and found that one of
Hermione's dorm mates was named Fay Dunbar (and all we know is she is a Quidditch fan) but
there was another girl who wasn't named and described as a ginger. I'll be trying to make
the first couple years (if I get that far *crosses fingers*) as canon as possible so the dorm mates
will be Fay Dunbar and the ginger… who you'll all meet later on in this chapter. :D**

**EDITED 06/11/2011: Just some** **minor edits.**

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**1 September, 1991**

A few days after Hermione's trip to Diagon Alley, an owl had arrived at the house with a
package tied to its leg. The package contained a couple pamphlets and an acceptance letter for
Maybell's, a prestigious school that was supposedly in Scotland. After looking through all the
pamphlets, Hermione was quite impressed with the credibility of the `school.' The pamphlets had
included pictures of students in different environments, testimonies from alumni, and information
about the school.

“Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee, indeed,” Hermione murmured as she and her parents went over the
package.

Hermione spent the remainder of the summer reading and rereading the books she had gotten at
Diagon Alley, trying to remember as many of the spells and proper pronunciations as she could. The
more Hermione read, the more she felt like she was at a disadvantage; she knew that many of the
other first year students would be from magical families and know a lot of things that Hermione was
just learning. She also read that some witches and wizards looked down on muggleborns and, even
though she felt completely sickened by the discrimination, she wanted to prove to those people that
she knew just as much as they did. The only thing was that because she wasn't allowed to
*try* the different spells, Hermione had no idea if she was practicing the incantations right
or not. In fact, Hermione often had dreams of being at Hogwarts and being laughed at for being the
only student not able to do the spells correctly because she learned them wrong.

Despite that drawback, Hermione did her best with the books she had bought - although she was a
bit miffed that her parents hadn't allowed her to buy more when they went to Diagon Alley. The
books gave her all the information she needed to know (she found out that the wizard You-Know-Who
was called Lord Voldemort and that he had been one of the wizards who looked down on muggleborns),
but they just skimmed the surface and didn't go in depth. That left Hermione feeling
unsatisfied, frustrated, and wanting to know more.

Hermione's favourite book by far was *Hogwarts, A History*. She loved reading about the
castle and all of its enchantments and couldn't wait to see the Great Hall's bewitched
ceiling for herself. By the time the morning of 1 September rolled around, Hermione had read
*Hogwarts, A History* so many times that she felt she knew all there was to know about the
school without actually having been there.

Mrs. Granger made a big breakfast that morning, cooking all of Hermione's favourites. When
Hermione came down and saw the food laid out on the dining room table (an area they used for
holiday and family dinners), she had to blink and look away so Viola wouldn't see the tears
start to form. She was excited for Hogwarts, there was no doubt about that, but it would be
extremely hard leaving her parents and Viola.

Hermione sat down beside Viola and helped herself to some bacon and eggs. Viola had been
unusually quiet that week, not going out to play with her friends and choosing to spend all of her
free time with Hermione. Hermione didn't mind at all, and was amused when Viola demanded that
she read *Hogwarts, A History* to her.

“You have to send me a letter and tell me all about the ride to Hogwarts,” she said for the
fifth time, grabbing more sausages. “And the Great Hall's ceiling.”

“I will, Vi,” Hermione promised, digging into her breakfast.

“And what house you get sorted into,” she added. “Oh! And how the castle changes, you have to
tell me about that!”

Hermione laughed and shook her head at her little sister. Viola had been just as excited as
Hermione about Hogwarts, convinced that she would be going there when she turned eleven. Hermione
quickly learned not to say anything about the probability of her not being a witch because it
always made Viola get angry and end up throwing a tantrum.

“Good morning, Hermione,” Mr. Granger said, coming into the room with a cup of coffee. He bent
down and placed a kiss on her forehead and then sat down, filling his own plate with food. “How are
you feeling?”

“Nervous,” Hermione answered honestly, “but excited.”

Mr. Granger nodded, “Do you have everything packed up?”

“Since yesterday morning,” she stated. “I really want to wear my uniform to the station
though.”

“You know you can't do that.”

“I know, I know,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. “But I am going to change as soon as the
train leaves.”

Mrs. Granger entered the room, also giving Hermione a hug and a kiss on the head. She sat down
and only put a couple strips of bacon on her plate, not saying much. Mrs. Granger had been
unusually quiet as well this week, and always looked like she was a few seconds away from
tears.

“So, where is Platform Nine and Three-Quarters?” Hermione asked.

“What?” Mr. Granger laughed. “There's no such platform at Kings Cross.”

“But that's what my ticket says,” Hermione said slowly, starting to feel panicked.

“I'm sure we'll find it,” Mrs. Granger quickly reassured. “Maybe you can only see it if
you know about it, like the Leaky Cauldron.”

“That's probably it,” Hermione said, licking her lips. She didn't feel hungry anymore as
she tried to remember if there were instructions on how to get to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters
on her train ticket.

They finished breakfast and Hermione and Mr. Granger carried her trunk down to the car. Hermione
ran back up to her room, double checking to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. On her way
back downstairs, she glanced back at her bedroom and paused. It was hard for her to think that she
wouldn't be back until Christmas. With one last longing look at her bookshelf (there wasn't
enough room for her novels in her trunk) she hurried down the stairs, the ticket to the Hogwarts
Express clutched tightly in her hand.

“Are you ready?” Mrs. Granger asked as Hermione stepped out onto the lawn, her eyes slightly
red.

Hermione nodded and looked back at the house before getting into the car. She swallowed and
rested her forehead against the window watching as Oxfordshire, and eventually the countryside,
passed by. As Mr. Granger sped towards London, her palms started to sweat, growing clammier the
closer they got and her stomach began jumping nervously. There wasn't much talking in the car;
no one was in the mood to talk as the reality that Hermione really was leaving began to weigh in
for everyone.

In what seemed like no time at all, they were there. Mr. Granger found a parking spot and went
to go get a trolley for Hermione's trunk. As they walked into Kings Cross Station, Hermione
quickly scanned the platform signs, her stomach dropping when she couldn't find a Nine and
Three-Quarters.

Mrs. Granger, who was watching Hermione, sighed. “Maybe it's near Platform Nine?” she
suggested.

Hermione nodded and pushed the trolley after her parents. She had never been in Kings Cross
Station before so she trusted her parents knew where to go. “What happens if you can't find the
train, Minny?” Viola asked.

“I don't know,” Hermione said, not wanting to think about that possibility.

Mrs. Granger stopped by the barricade between Platforms Nine and Ten and looked around. “Do you
see it?” she asked.

Hermione looked around, trying to find some kind of indication that a magical platform was
nearby. After a few minutes, she sighed and shook her head. Everything looked normal. Mr. Granger
asked to see the ticket and she handed it to him, leaving her trolley by Mrs. Granger so she could
walk around the platform.

An oddly dressed old woman caught Hermione's attention through the crowd. She watched as the
old woman walked towards her then turned to a young boy around Hermione's age. Hermione's
eyes widened when she saw he was pushing a trolley with a trunk that looked similar to hers.

“Are you *sure*, Neville?” she asked.

“I've got my toad right here, gran,” he replied, patting a lump in his jacket pocket.
Hermione's eyes widened as they walked closer to where she was. She remembered on her Hogwarts
list that students were allowed to bring an owl, a cat, or a *toad* to Hogwarts.

“Excuse me!” she exclaimed, going up to them. They paused to look at her and Hermione suddenly
lost her bravado, unsure if they really were headed for Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. “I,
um…”

“First year,” the old woman stated. Hermione nodded and she sighed. “Alright, follow me. This is
Neville's first year as well.”

The round faced boy flushed. “Hello,” he said quietly.

“Hi,” Hermione replied. She followed the old woman to where her parents were waiting. They were
looking at her with a strange expression as the old woman stopped in front of the barricade between
Platforms Nine and Ten.

“You go through this right here to get to the Hogwarts Express,” she grunted. “S'long as you
aren't afraid to crash into it, you'll go right through.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said, grabbing her trolley. She was suddenly hyper aware of her family and
Neville watching her as she took a deep breath and began walking towards the barricade, picking up
speed as she got closer. Her eyes closed automatically when she got about three feet away from it,
bracing herself for impact.

No impact came. Hermione blinked her eyes open as she stopped walking and stared up at the
gleaming red train, her mouth dropping open. Viola came up beside Hermione, her eyes as wide as
saucers as she stared around her. “That was so cool!” she gushed.

Hermione looked around as Mr. and Mrs. Granger came through the barricade and went to Hermione
and Viola, looking up at the train in awe. The platform was packed with students as they grouped
together with their friends and family. Hermione looked back at the barricade just as a tall
teenage boy came through. He adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses and ran a hand through his flaming
red hair, looking around the platform just as another boy with the same hair came through, bumping
into him roughly with his trolley.

“Fred!” The boy snapped, flushing as some of the other students around him began to snigger.

“Oops,” the other boy, who was obviously his brother, said. The expression on his face made it
clear that he wasn't sorry at all and was holding in laughter. “Sorry, Perce.” Hermione rolled
her eyes as an identical red head came through barricade and also bumped into the brother, causing
him to snap yet again.

She followed her parents as they made their way through the crowd towards the middle of the
train, finding an empty compartment. Mr. and Mrs. Granger heaved her trunk up into the compartment
and stored it in the luggage rack underneath the bench seat. Hermione followed them up and looked
around, giving a small sigh. “I guess this is it,” she said.

Viola burst out crying and made her way into the compartment, wrapping her arms around
Hermione's waist. “I don't want you to go!” she sobbed into Hermione's shirt.

“Vi,” Hermione sighed, hugging her back. “I'll be back for Christmas.”

“But I'll miss you!”

Hermione felt her own tears start to form. “I'll miss you too,” she sniffed. Mrs. Granger
hugged her once Viola let go and Hermione began to openly cry.

“We are so proud of you,” Mrs. Granger whispered, kissing her forehead. “And we love you very
much.”

“I love you too, mum,” Hermione replied, snuggling into her embrace before drawing back. Mr.
Granger stepped up and gave her a big hug and kiss as a man's voice suddenly echoed throughout
the platform, announcing that the train would be leaving in five minutes. Hermione pulled back from
her father and wiped her eyes as her family exited the compartment. She quickly went over to the
window and pulled it open so she could talk with them.

“Make sure you write often, Hermione,” Mrs. Granger said, using a handkerchief to dab away some
tears.

“I will,” Hermione promised. Compartment doors were being slammed shut and people were scurrying
to get onto the train. Parents crowded around where Viola and her parents were, waving goodbye as
the train slowly began to move. Hermione leaned out the window and waved, not going back in until
her parents were out of sight.

Hermione sighed and closed the window, wiping away the stray tears that escaped. She made sure
the compartment door was locked before pulling out her trunk and opening it, reaching in and
grabbing her uniform. She quickly changed, stuffing her other clothes into her trunk, and slamming
it shut before shoving it back underneath the seat. After unlocking the door, Hermione sat down by
the window and watched as the train raced past the countryside.

“E-excuse me.”

Hermione looked up and saw the pudgy, round faced Neville peering into the compartment, looking
distraught.

“Neville, right?” Hermione asked, sitting up straight.

“Yes, Neville Longbottom.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said. “Come in, you don't need to just stand there. I'm Hermione
Granger by the way.”

Neville looked a little surprised and Hermione realized she had said that all extremely fast.
She shifted, telling herself to calm down as Neville entered the compartment. “What's wrong,
Neville?”

“Have you seen a toad around?” he asked.

“A toad?” He nodded. “No, I haven't. I thought I heard you tell your grandmother you had
it.”

Neville turned beet red. “I did,” he cried, “but he got away as soon as I got on the train!”

“It's okay!” Hermione said quickly, trying to calm him down. “Why don't I help you find
him?”

“Really?” Neville's face brightened up as his eyes widened. “You'd do that?”

“Why not?” she shrugged. “He obviously means a lot to you.”

“Thank you,” he blubbered.

Hermione nodded and looked away, thinking that Neville was coming off a little on the pathetic
side. “Where did you last have him?”

“I had him on the platform…” Neville trailed off, horror seeping into his expression. Hermione
braced herself. “I left him at the station!” he wailed, putting his head into his hands. “I lost
him for good!”

“Calm down, Neville!” Hermione said. “I'm sure he's on the train.”

“It's no use,” he said miserably, “he's gone.”

“Well you won't find him with that attitude,” Hermione snapped. She rubbed her forehead.
“How about I go check the bathrooms and you check in some of the compartments?”

“B-but there'll be other people in there…”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Just ask if they've seen a toad.”

“Okay.”

Hermione got up and headed towards the bathrooms as Neville knocked on the compartment door
beside the one they had been in. She looked around the small room, checking in the little crevices
in case the toad might be in there. Not seeing Trevor anywhere, she headed out of the bathroom,
glancing at her reflection in the mirror as she passed by. She stopped and turned to face the
mirror fully. Hermione had forgotten to tuck her black tie into the grey knitted v-neck jumper and
quickly did so, making sure that the tie was centered. She fixed the collar of her crisp white
buttoned shirt and made sure that her robes were smooth. Running a hand over the embroidered
Hogwarts crest on the left side of her robe, she couldn't stop the huge grin that surfaced even
if she tried.

Hermione glanced around the bathroom one last time before she exited. She saw Neville go into a
compartment down the hall and went to go join him when a familiar voice made her stop.

“Hermione?”

Hermione turned around and gasped as she stared the black haired girl. Her long hair was pulled
up into a high ponytail and she was changed into her robes as well. Her large brown eyes were huge
as she looked at Hermione in shock. “Sally-Anne?”

“Hermione!” Sally-Anne squealed and ran to her, hugging Hermione.

“What are you doing here?” Hermione asked, hugging her back. Sally-Anne Perks had been
Hermione's next door neighbour for about five years now and she and her twin sister Susan were
the closest thing to friends that Hermione ever had.

“What am *I* doing here?” Sally-Anne asked. “What are *you* doing here? I didn't
know you were a witch.”

Hermione released her and shook her head. “I didn't until mid-July. I didn't know you
were a witch either! Where's Susan?”

Sally-Anne's face fell at the mention of her twin. “I, um…” she said sadly, “I was the only
one to get the letter.”

“Oh no,” Hermione felt her heart go out to Sally-Anne. She and Susan were always extremely
close. “I'm sorry.”

Sally-Anne nodded. “Thanks,” she said. “I didn't know how I was going to make it, but now
that I know you're going to Hogwarts too...”

Hermione nodded and gave her friend another hug as Neville came running up behind her.
“Hermione,” he said miserably, “no one has seen Trevor.”

“We only checked this part of the train, Neville,” Hermione reminded, pulling back from
Sally-Anne. “Oh. Neville, this is Sally-Anne Perks.”

“Hi,” he said dejectedly.

“Hello,” she waved. “Who's Trevor?”

Neville looked too upset to talk so Hermione quickly filled Sally-Anne in. “He's a toad that
Neville's misplaced.”

“Oh,” Sally-Anne said. “I can help look for him if you want.”

Neville looked like he was about to cry as he glanced at Sally-Anne. “Thank you!” he exclaimed.
“Thank you both, really!”

“Let's go check the front of the train,” Hermione suggested. Neville and Sally-Anne nodded
and Hermione led the way to the front. Compartment by compartment they asked the students if they
had seen Trevor, Neville getting more and more upset as they kept getting rejected.

“I'll go check the girl's bathroom,” Sally-Anne announced. “Go check the boy's,
Neville.”

Neville nodded and went into the bathroom as Sally-Anne went into the girl's. Hermione
looked around the hall as she waited for them. Sally-Anne came out and shook her head, Neville
joining them looking even more miserable. “There's still the end of the train,” Hermione said
hopefully.

The trio made their way to the end of the train. Students were starting to get rambunctious and
coming and going from compartments, pushing and shoving each other playfully. Hermione scrunched up
her nose as two older boys rushed past them, nearly knocking poor Neville to the ground, “How old
are they, honestly!”

Hermione offered to get check the bathroom as Sally-Anne started knocking on compartment doors
and Neville went into the boy's bathroom. After Hermione came out, she saw Neville exit one
compartment looking upset. “No luck?”

“No,” he wailed. “We've checked every compartment on the train!”

“He'll show up, Neville,” Sally-Anne said. “Maybe we should just double check the
compartments?”

Hermione looked at the compartment that Neville just came out of and walked towards it. “I
already checked that one,” Neville protested. Hermione ignored him and slid open the door without
knocking. Two boys were in it, one with unruly black hair and glasses and another boy with flaming
red hair and freckles. She could tell that the red haired boy was another brother of the three
Hermione saw at the station.

“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one,” she asked, her voice trailing off when she saw
the red haired boy had his wand up in the air. A rat was sitting on his lap.

“We've already told him we haven't seen it,” he snapped, sounding annoyed.

“Are you doing magic?” Hermione asked, ignoring his tone. She felt a flutter of anticipation,
remembering Mr. Ollivanders' warning about doing magic outside of Hogwarts. “I don't
think-”

But the boy already started waving his wand as he spoke some sort of weird rhyme. Hermione
watched, unimpressed, as nothing happened. “Are you sure that's a real spell?” she asked. She
couldn't remember reading it in the books she had read. The boys stared at her. “Well, it's
not very good is it? Of course, I haven't been able to try any spells myself because of the
underage wizard law but I have practiced how to say the spells correctly. I've actually learnt
all of the spells off by heart, but I just hope it'll be enough. Nobody but me is magical in my
family, you see. Well, that we know of.” At the blank stares she received from the two boys,
Hermione realized that she had said all of that and hadn't introduced herself, “I'm
Hermione Granger by the way. Who are you?”

“Ron Weasley,” the red haired boy muttered.

“Harry Potter,” the black haired boy said. Hermione stared at him, something about him looked so
familiar but she couldn't place where she'd seen him before. Neville made a little
squeaking noise and he stared at the boy.

“Are you really?” Hermione asked, finally registering that he had said Harry Potter, her eyes
immediately looking for his scar. She saw the lightning shaped scar behind his bangs and then
looked away, feeling guilty for staring. “I bought a few extra books to read up on wizarding
history and you're in every one of them.”

“I am?” Harry asked, looking a little dazed.

“You didn't know?” Hermione could tell she was making him feel a little uncomfortable and
glanced at Neville, who was shifting back and forth. “Anyway, we'd better go and look for
Neville's toad.”

Hermione smiled at them and grabbed Neville, pulling him out of the compartment. Sally-Anne was
waiting for them out in the hall. “What took so long?”

“One of the boys was trying to do magic,” Hermione explained.

“But I thought you weren't allowed to do magic out of Hogwarts,” Sally-Anne said with wide
eyes.

“So did I, but his spell didn't work. I don't even think that it was a real spell.”

“That was Harry Potter,” Neville said softly.

“Harry Potter was in there?” Sally-Anne asked. “What did he look like?”

“He looked like a regular boy,” Hermione replied shrugging. “He didn't even know he was in
so many books!”

“Wow,” she whispered, peeking into the compartment. “So, Neville, any other place you want to
check for Trevor?”

“Maybe we should take a break,” Hermione interrupted. “We've been searching for a few hours
now and we should rest. Maybe he'll turn up.”

“And if he doesn't?” Neville asked, going back into his dejected mood.

“We'll split up and have one last look around the train.”

As the trio made their way back to Hermione's compartment, the students had gotten more
rowdy which in turn frustrated Hermione. “This isn't a playground,” she grumbled to herself as
she saw the red haired twins cackling and dancing around some sort of box. They finally made it to
the compartment and she sat down, stretching.

“Do you really know all the first year spells off by heart?” Neville asked.

“Of course I do,” Hermione replied simply. She raised an eyebrow at Neville and Sally-Anne's
shocked expressions. “Don't you two?”

“No,” they chorused.

“Well, there's nothing wrong with extra knowledge.” Hermione bit her lip and looked outside,
realizing she had probably made a fool of herself in front of Harry and Ron.

**<><><>**

It took Neville an hour to get worked up and become convinced that he had lost Trevor forever.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “We'll probably be at Hogwarts soon, did you want to split up and
look around one last time?”

Neville nodded. The three split up, Sally-Anne taking the front of the train, Neville the
middle, and Hermione the rear. It was pure chaos back there, students running up and down the
corridor, yelling, and shoving. Hermione glared at one teenager who had run over her foot, barely
even stopping to apologize before running after his friends. They were so worked up that they
barely even listened to Hermione whenever she stopped someone to ask if they'd seen Trevor.

As she neared the compartment where Harry and Ron had been in, she heard a loud howling sound
coming from it and then a thud. Hermione frowned and made her way over to go check out the noise
when the door slid open and three boys came barrelling out of the compartment, shoving Hermione
roughly to the side. “Hey!” she yelled after them, but they ignored her.

She stomped to the compartment and entered it, seeing Harry standing up looking flushed and Ron
picking up his rat by the tail. “What *has* been going on in here?” she asked furiously.

“I think he's been knocked out,” Ron said to Harry, totally ignoring Hermione. “No - I
don't believe it - he's gone back to sleep.”

Hermione huffed angrily as they continued to ignore her and talk about one of the boys that had
run out of the compartment. A few minutes later, Ron finally noticed she was there. “Can we help
you with something?”

She bristled at his tone. “You haven't been fighting in here have you? You'll be in
trouble before we even get to Hogwarts!”

“Scabbers has been fighting, not us!” Ron said, scowling at her. She noticed that he had a huge
smudge of dirt on his nose, which -for some reason - irritated her even more. “Would you mind
leaving while we change?”

“Fine,” she snapped. “By the way you've got dirt on your nose, did you know?”

Hermione turned on her heel and stormed out of the compartment as a voice echoed through the
train. “We'll be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes. Please leave your luggage on the train; it
will be taken to the school separately.”

Hermione groaned and made her way back to her compartment. Neville was in there with his head
down. “Sorry, Neville,” she apologized. “I couldn't find Trevor. You wouldn't believe how
*rude* people are back there.”

“S'ok,” he mumbled. “Thanks for helping me look for him. I appreciate it.” Sally-Anne
appeared in the compartment a moment later and shook her head.

The train slowed down and stopped and Hermione, Neville, and Sally-Anne made their way off the
train, trying not to be pushed down by the older students rushing to get off. They stepped out onto
the darkened platform and Hermione shivered, wrapping her robes around her stocking covered legs.
The night air was chilly.

“Firs' years!” A loud, booming voice carried over the mumble of other students. A light
bobbed over the heads of everyone. Hermione turned and gasped at the man the voice belonged to. He
was a *very* large and *very* wide man with a black bushy mane. Hermione felt Sally-Anne
shrink into her side as she stared at the giant as well. “Firs' years over here! C'mon
follow me! Firs' years! Mind yer step, now!”

They made their way down a steep, narrow path, slipping and sliding as the fell in behind Harry
and Ron. Neville was behind them and kept grabbing onto them as he lost his balance.

“Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec,” the giant called.

Hermione looked up as they turned around a corner and gasped at the sight. They were on the edge
of a lake and, perched on a cliff on the other side, was an enormous castle. The moon cast the
castle in a silvery light, making it look like it had been made of marble. Hermione heard other
first years `ooh' and `aah' as they caught site of the castle as well.

The giant instructed them to pick from one of many boats that were lined up at the dock. Neville
grabbed Hermione before she could do anything and dragged her into a boat with Harry and Ron.
Hermione looked back as Sally-Anne got into a boat with the same three boys that had pushed
Hermione into the wall on the train.

“Everyone in,” the giant shouted. “FORWARD!”

Hermione gasped and grabbed the side of the boat as it lurched forward and started going towards
the cliff which the castle was on. Everyone stared up in a hushed awe as the castle loomed over
them. Off in the distance they could hear the faint voices of the other students echo through the
night air.

“Heads down!” Hermione jumped at the giant's voice. She hadn't realized they were so
close to the cliff and ducked her head as the boat went through a curtain of ivy and into a wide
opening and down a dark tunnel. Hermione had to guess that they were beneath the castle now as they
reached some sort of dock.

Hermione climbed out of the boat and was helping Neville when the giant's voice boomed, “Oy,
you there! Is this your toad?”

Neville's eyes went wide as he grabbed the toad from the giant. “Trevor!”

Hermione rolled her eyes and shared a look with Sally-Anne. “Oh, Neville,” she sighed. He
didn't acknowledge either of the girls, too busy coddling the poor toad. Hermione watched as
the giant raised his huge fist and knocked on the castle door.

The door swung open almost immediately and Professor McGonagall stepped through, dressed in her
emerald green robes, and examined the students in front of her. Hermione smiled at her when she
caught her gaze and she gave a small, brief smile before turning to the giant. “Thank you, Hagrid.
I will take them from here.”

The giant, Hagrid, nodded and made his way back onto the boats. Professor McGonagall swung the
door open wide and led the students into the Entrance Hall. Hermione gasped at the hall before her.
The lit torches on the stone walls basked everyone in a warm glow and illuminated the beautiful
medieval décor. Hermione craned her neck to look up at the ceiling as she followed the crowd but
was unable to see it clearly. Professor McGonagall led them into a small chamber off the hall and
waited until they crowded in. Hermione felt Sally-Anne and Neville press themselves into her and
she swallowed, wishing they were back out in the Entrance Hall.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall began. “The start-of-term banquet will begin
shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses.” As
Professor McGonagall explained all about the houses and the House Cup, Hermione felt Sally-Anne
clutch her arm. Hermione turned and met her fearful eyes, understanding immediately what she meant.
She had been so relieved that she found someone she knew on the train that she didn't stop to
think that they might be sorted into different houses.

“There's no way,” Hermione whispered. “I'm sure we'll both be in Ravenclaw.”

“I hope so,” Sally-Anne murmured.

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I
suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.” Professor
McGonagall concluded, looking at Neville whose robe was somehow fastened underneath his left
ear.

“Oh Neville,” Sally-Anne rolled her eyes and reached over to fix it for him. She finished and
went back to Hermione's side, muttering to herself about what type of test the Sorting Ceremony
would have. The other first years were fidgeting as well, all of them having a look of pure terror
on their faces as they waited. Hermione forced herself to remain calm, reminding herself over and
over again that Amelia said the Sorting Ceremony wasn't anything to be worried about.

Professor McGonagall returned shortly after, instructing them to get into a line and then
leading them through the Entrance Hall and into the Great Hall. Hermione felt her breath catch at
the sight. Thousands upon thousands of candles floated magically above four very long tables as
Professor McGonagall led them down the middle isle. Hermione was briefly aware of all the eyes on
her but didn't mind as she looked up, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the enchanted
ceiling she had read so much about.

“No way,” Sally-Anne gasped, looking up as well.

“It's enchanted to look like the sky outside,” Hermione whispered to her, unable to stop
from grinning. “I read about it in *Hogwarts, a History*.”

They stopped at the front of the hall as Professor McGonagall placed an extremely dirty hat on a
stool. Hermione stared at it, confused when the drone of voices in the Great Hall stopped, until a
seam ripped open and the hat burst into a long monologue. The entire hall broke into loud applause
when it finished and Hermione blinked, amazed at the magical hat.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward and cleared her throat, the hall going quiet instantly.
“When I call your name, you will step forward and place the hat on your head,” she instructed,
unrolling a piece of parchment. “Abbot, Hannah!”

Hermione watched as one by one the students were called forward and placed the hat on their
head. The hall seemed to wait with baited breath until the hat called out what house they were
sorted into. Sometimes it would be almost instantaneous and other times it would take a moment.

“Granger, Hermione!”

Hermione took a deep breath as she stepped through the crowd and up to the stool, trying to hide
her trembling hands. Professor McGonagall gave her a reassuring smile as she sat down on the stool
and placed the hat on her head.

“Hmm,” a small voice drawled in Hermione's ear, making her jump. “My first choice would be
to put you in Ravenclaw… but I can see now that that isn't where you belong. Intelligent, yes,
terribly so, but I can see other qualities in you that far outweigh that. Bravery and courage that
others could only dream of having… yes, the place where you belong is GRYFFINDOR!”

It all happened so fast that Hermione didn't realize the hat had yelled out the house until
she heard clapping. She dazedly pulled the hat off her head and made her way over to the table on
the far left, smiling self-consciously as people welcomed her. She sat down beside the red haired
boy with horn-rimmed glasses she had seen on the platform, positive he was a relative of Ron. He
grinned widely at her and clapped her on her back. “Welcome to Gryffindor!” he exclaimed. “I'm
Percy Weasley and am the Gryffindor Prefect so if you have any questions at all don't hesitate
to ask.”

“Thank you,” Hermione smiled back and turned to watch the rest of the Sorting Ceremony, feeling
as though a weight had been lifted off her chest. Neville was called up and placed into Gryffindor
as well. Hermione cheered loudly with the rest of her house as he stumbled his way to the table and
sat down across from her. Percy leaned over and shook Neville's hand, giving him the same
speech he had had given Hermione.

She turned her head to hide her amused smile and glanced up at Sally-Anne, her smile leaving her
as soon as she saw her. Poor Sally-Anne looked terrified as she waited for her name to be called.
When `Patil, Parvati' was sorted into Gryffindor she looked like she was about to faint.

“Perks, Sally-Anne!”

Hermione and Neville shared a worried look as they watched her stumble up to the stool.
Professor McGonagall placed the hat onto Sally-Anne's head and a house was immediately called
out.

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

Hermione's eyes widened as she watched Sally-Anne hurry to the Hufflepuff table, putting on
a horribly fake smile as the other Hufflepuff's welcomed her. Percy, who was examining
Hermione's expression, patted her arm reassuringly. “She's a friend of yours?” Hermione
nodded, not trusting herself to speak. “Don't worry, it can be a little difficult to keep
friendships between different houses, but it's not impossible.”

“Thanks, Percy,” Hermione smiled.

“Potter, Harry!”

“Potter?”

“She didn't just say *Potter*, did she?”

“It can't be him.”

“No, it is! It's Harry Potter!”

Hermione glanced around as the Great Hall erupted into quiet murmuring. Percy went as straight
as board and clutched his fork so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Even Neville seemed to
hold his breath as the hat was placed on Harry's head. Glancing up at the teacher's table,
Hermione was surprised to see that all the teachers except for one were leaning forward anxiously.
A hushed silence fell over the hall as they waited for the hat to sort Harry.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the hat straightened up and shouted,
“GRYFFINDOR!”

The Gryffindor table erupted into thunderous applause, many of the older students standing up
and cheering as Harry quickly made his way over to the table. The red haired twins were chanting
“We got Potter! We got Potter!” as Percy stood up and grabbed his hand, shaking it vigorously while
directing Harry to sit down beside him. Harry glanced around the table with an embarrassed grin as
Professor McGonagall told them to quiet down. He caught Hermione's gaze and gave a shy smile,
and she was once again struck with the notion that she had met him somewhere before.

There were only a few students left to be sorted now. Percy was leaning on the table staring at
them, murmuring, “Come on, Ron,” as the young redhead was called up to the stool. The hat shouted
“GRYFFINDOR!” a second later and both Percy and Harry clapped loudly as he made his way to the
table. Hermione's applause was less enthusiastic as she watched him sit down beside Harry; she
didn't like Ron's attitude towards her very much.

The Sorting Ceremony wrapped up and Hermione stared down at her plate, just realizing how hungry
she really was. She hadn't had time to eat on the train since she was so busy looking for
Trevor and was beginning to feel a little lightheaded.

At the head table an elderly man stood up and spread his arms, Hermione recognizing him
instantly as Professor Dumbledore. Like Harry, Professor Dumbledore was mentioned in all of her
books, but unlike Harry there were moving pictures of the headmaster to accompany the
paragraphs.

“Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling merrily. “Before we
begin our feast I have just a few words I'd like to say. Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!”

He sat back down and Hermione stared at him, wondering if that was some sort of spell while
everyone else clapped. “Is he a bit mad?” she heard Harry ask Percy. She didn't hear his answer
however because suddenly the empty dishes that were in front of her were filled with delicious
looking food. A collective gasp from all the first years went through the hall as everyone started
filling their plates.

Hermione reached over and piled chicken breasts, stuffing, potatoes and other vegetables on her
plate, almost moaning when she took the first bite. Her mother's cooking was always very good
but this feast was something else. She grabbed her goblet and poured an orange looking liquid from
a pitcher into it. It looked like orange juice but had a slightly darker colour to it. Not sure
what it was, Hermione discretely brought the goblet up to her nose and sniffed the beverage.
“Percy,” she said setting the goblet down, “what is this?”

Percy glanced over at her. “That's pumpkin juice,” he stated simply.

“*Pumpkin* juice?” Hermione gasped, grabbing her goblet and staring into it.

“Yes,” Percy said slowly. “Oh! You're a muggleborn, aren't you?”

Hermione felt her face heat up as Neville turned to look at her as well. “I am,” she said.

“It's really good,” Neville offered, taking a drink out of his own goblet.

Hermione slowly took a sip and was surprised to find that the pumpkin juice tasted almost
exactly like orange juice but was just a bit tangier. “It is,” she agreed, taking longer sip. She
set the goblet back down and went back to her dinner.

As the plates cleared and a wide variety of desserts appeared in place of the food, the talk of
the table turned to families. Hermione listened for a bit as Neville told a long winded story about
his family trying to figure out if he was a wizard or not and then turned to Percy. “Do lessons
start tomorrow?”

“Bright and early,” Percy nodded. “You'll be getting your timetables tomorrow at
breakfast.”

“I do hope they start right away,” Hermione said excitedly. “Everything I've read sounds so
interesting, like Transfiguration and Charms and Potions…”

“You won't be thinking Potions is interesting after your first lesson,” Percy interrupted
with a short laugh. Hermione frowned at him, waiting for him to explain. “The subject itself is
intriguing but Snape just makes it *horrible*.”

Hermione was just going to ask what Percy meant when Harry caught his attention. She waited for
Percy's attention to return to her so they could continue their conversation when a tap on her
shoulder made her turn. Another first year girl with long, curly ginger hair sat on the other side
of her. As Hermione turned to look at her fully, she gave a bright smile. “So what are you?” she
asked with an Irish accent.

“Excuse me?” Hermione asked, not expecting the blunt question.

She nodded towards the other first years who were still discussing their families. “Muggleborn,
half-half…?” she coaxed.

“Oh, I'm, uh, muggleborn.” Hermione answered. “You?”

“My entire family is magical,” she said smiling again. “I'm Shae Bevern.”

“I'm Hermione Granger,” Hermione said, smiling back. Percy was still talking to Harry so
she'd just talk to someone else about their upcoming lessons. “What lesson are you most excited
for?”

Shae scrunched up her nose. “None of them, honestly,” she replied. “I guess Charms would be
cool, but I'm not that interested in school.”

Hermione's smile faltered as she stopped herself from going on about the different lessons
and what she had read over the summer. There was an awkward pause as Shae stared at her, waiting
for her to say something. Luckily Hermione didn't get the chance to reply because the desserts
disappeared and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet, reminding the students that the Forbidden
Forest was off limits to everyone.

“And finally, I must tell you that this year the third floor corridor on the right hand side is
out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death.”

Hermione's eyes widened and she turned to Percy. “He cannot be serious,” she declared.
“Right?”

“Seems like he is,” he replied gravely.

“But this is a *school*!” she protested as Professor Dumbledore dismissed everyone. “There
shouldn't be such dangerous things in a school!”

“Just stay away from the third floor corridor and you'll be fine,” Percy advised standing
up. “First years follow me! I'll show you how to get to the Gryffindor common room!”

Hermione stood up and joined Neville, Ron, Harry, and Shae as they followed Percy up winding
staircases and through doorways only to have more staircases to climb. Hermione yawned loudly,
wanting nothing more than to just climb into bed and sleep. She could tell from the slouched
postures of everyone else that they felt the same way.

Finally Percy stopped in front of a portrait of a large woman in a pink dress on the seventh
floor. Hermione forced herself to pay attention as the lady examined Percy. “Password?” she asked
in a shrill voice. It amazed Hermione at how fast she became accustomed to the portraits talking
and interacting with the students just from their walk up.

“Caput Draconis,” Percy said. The Fat Lady nodded and the portrait swung open revealing a round
hole in the wall. Percy led them through it and into a cozy looking common room filled with squishy
red armchairs and sofas. Red and gold tapestries hung from the walls and a warm fire was going in
the fireplace. It felt quite homey.

“The boy's dormitory is the last door up the stairs on your left, the girl's is the same
on your right,” Percy instructed, looking quite pleased with himself as he explained it to them.
“It's been a long day so I suggest you go to bed right away as classes start tomorrow at
nine-o'clock. You'll get your timetables at breakfast.”

Hermione mumbled a goodnight to Neville as she made her way up the stairs on her right with Shae
and three other girls. At the top of the stairs, they walked through the door and into a circular
room that had five four poster beds with red velvet curtains. “I call the bed closest to the
bathroom!” Shae called, hurrying to the bed.

“That isn't fair!” Another girl with blonde hair argued, hurrying over to the same bed and
glaring at Shae.

“Look there's a trunk already there,” a girl with dark brown hair tiredly pointed out from
beside Hermione. “Whoever's trunk that is gets the bed.”

“I agree,” Hermione added. Shae and the other girl turned to glare at her. “Our trunks are
already placed by the beds. It'd be a waste of time rearranging them.”

The blonde glanced at the trunk and scoffed, “Well it isn't *my* trunk,” she said,
looking around the room for her own. She found it and groaned. “It's the furthest bed away from
the bathroom!”

Hermione glanced at the brunette and grinned as she rolled her eyes. She looked around and found
her trunk was placed by the bed closest to the door leading out of the dormitory. Opening her
trunk, she quickly put on her pyjamas and collapsed onto her bed.

“I guess we should introduce ourselves,” the brunette said as she was changing. It was her trunk
that was placed by the bed closest to the bathroom. “I'm Fay Dunbar.”

“Hermione Granger,” Hermione called from her bed.

“Shae Bevern.” Shae said, sitting on her bed which was next to Hermione's.

“Lavender Brown,” the blonde girl who argued with Shae grumbled, shooting a glare at Fay.

“I'm Parvati Patil,” a pretty Indian girl with long black hair said softly, heading into the
bathroom.

“Nice to meet you all,” Fay yawned, getting under her covers. “Now that that's dealt with,
good night.”

Hermione laughed and snuggled into her pillow, sleep claiming her instantly.

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**End Notes****: Woo! Another chapter down. I had a lot of fun writing this, all of the
characters are so much fun to write,** **especially** **Percy.**

**Before everyone starts, I know that you all are going to be like “WHY DIDN'T HERMIONE
RECOGNIZE HARRY?!” Please remember that it has been over a month since she spotted him and while
the zoo incident was traumatic, more important things took place afterwards. But don't worry,
Hermione will realize it was Harry she** **saw in** **the future!**

**Kelci**

-->



7. Six: Rough Start
-------------------



**Six**

**“Rough Start”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit.**

**Note One:** **Hey guys!** **Oh my gosh, over a 100 reviews? Thank you so much! I
honestly didn't think this story would do so well but the support and encouragement I keep
getting from all of you means a** **lot** **to me. As the famous Captain Jack
say****s:** **drinks all around!** **Except for you youngin's… you guys get the
pumpkin juice.**

**Also, I decided t****o have the weekly update be on** **Thursday****'s**
**instead of Friday****'s****…mainly because I'm getting the special combo pack of
HP:DH part 1** **tomorrow** **and will probably be watching that and all of** **its**
**extra goodiness****.** **A****ll. Day. Long.**

**EDITED 06/12/2011: Just some dates changed and minor edits.**

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**2 September, 1991**

It took Hermione a moment to remember why she was in a strange, yet comfortable, bed when she
woke up the next morning. Grinning she sat up and stretched, glancing at the clock that hung above
the door to the bathroom. Having always been an early riser, it came to no surprise to Hermione
that it was barely half-past seven. She knew she was the first one to wake up and pushed back her
covers, slipping out of bed and quietly padding to her trunk and opening it. Grabbing the bag that
held her toiletries and a fresh uniform (all of her ties had turned red and gold during the night
and were no longer plain black), Hermione went into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

After she showered and dressed, Hermione walked back into the room just as the others were
starting to wake up. Lavender was waiting by the door to the bathroom and shuffled past Hermione as
she exited, mumbling a groggy `*good morning*.'

“What time is it?” Fay yawned, letting out a loud groan as she stretched from her bed.

“Nearly eight,” Hermione replied, pulling her book bag out from her trunk. Fay groaned again and
flopped back onto her bed. “Do you think we'll need our textbooks today?”

“It's too early for that topic,” Shae whimpered, burrowing her head underneath her
pillow.

“Lessons start in an hour,” Hermione pointed out, frowning.

“An hour too early if you ask me,” she shot back. Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed her shoes
just as a shrill ringing came from the clock. Fay, Shae, and Parvati shrieked, all three girls
shooting out of bed. Hermione realized that the large clock must have had an alarm set and started
laughing as the girls glared at it.

“See you in the Great Hall.” Hermione slung her bag over her shoulder and headed out the door,
practically skipping down the spiral staircase. Other Gryffindors were slowly making their way out
of the common room, Harry and Ron among them. Hermione paused, wanting to go walk with them but
unsure if she'd be welcome. Ron's attitude towards her on the train was barely civil but
she didn't want to miss a chance at making friends because of one encounter. Perhaps Ron was
having a bad day and she had caught him at the wrong time.

With a deep breath, Hermione straightened up and hurried after Harry and Ron, falling into step
beside Harry. “Good morning,” she greeted with a smile.

Harry looked surprised to see her but offered her a smile back, “Good morning.”

“How was your first night?” she asked.

“Er, fine,” Ron mumbled, staring at her warily.

“Mine was interesting,” Hermione said idly as they walked out of the common room. “Shae and
Lavender had an argument the moment we got to our dorm over who would get the bed closest to the
bathroom, of all things! Luckily Fay was able to stop it before it escalated, but she was the one
who ended up getting the bed so I don't think Lavender and Shae are too happy with her.” She
glanced at Harry and Ron, her heart sinking when neither looked interested in what she was saying.
She decided to try a different tactic. “I wonder what our timetables will be like.”

“Dunno,” Harry replied with a casual shrug.

Hermione bit her lip and gripped the strap of her bag. This wasn't going how she had planned
at all. They walked in an awkward silence for a while, Ron leading the way while Harry and Hermione
followed. Hermione didn't recognize any of the décor they passed from when Percy showed them
the way to the Gryffindor Tower and had a feeling that Ron had no idea where they were going. After
they passed the same suit of armour for the third time, Hermione couldn't keep quiet, “Are you
sure you know where you're going?”

“Well since we haven't even been here for a day,” Ron began, starting to redden, “no, I
don't.”

Hermione forced herself to count to ten before answering. “I was only *asking* because you
led us past this corridor multiple times now,” she defended.

“If you're so sure we're going the wrong way,” Ron snapped, “*you* lead us
then.”

Hermione glanced at Harry, who was suddenly very interested in his shoes, and bristled.
“*Fine*,” she snapped back. Stopping, Hermione quickly glanced around the corridor before
turning on her heel and backtracking. Harry and Ron trudged after her. It took her a moment to
retrace their steps and finally ended back at an area that looked vaguely familiar. She led them
down the staircase that had suddenly appeared and smirked when she saw students heading in the same
direction. When they reached the Entrance Hall, she turned to Ron and gave a smug smile.

Ron glared at her before marching into the Great Hall. Harry looked between Hermione and
Ron's retreating back before going after him. “Thanks,” he muttered as he passed Hermione.

Hermione watched as the two sat down with the first years at Gryffindor table. That definitely
hadn't gone as she planned and she felt a twinge of annoyance at Ron's reluctance to be
nice to her. With her head held high she strode right past them and over to where Neville, another
boy, and the girls from her dorm were sitting. “Good morning.”

Neville looked startled as he glanced up at her. “Morning,” he replied.

“Have our timetables arrived yet?” she asked, sitting down beside Fay. She felt Ron's gaze
on her but refused to turn around and acknowledge it.

“Not yet,” Fay said. “Oh Hermione, this is Seamus.”

The sandy-haired boy looked up from his plate and grinned at her, “Hello.” He, like Shae, had an
Irish accent.

Hermione smiled back at him and began to fill her plate with food. She may have had a rough
start with Harry and Ron, but the other first years were making an effort to include her which was
something that never happened back home. Her smile widened at the thought as she dug into her
sausage and hash browns.

“Why did it take you so long to get here?” Lavender asked suddenly. “You left before all of
us.”

“We got lost,” Hermione grumbled, allowing a quick glance at Harry and Ron.

“We?”

Hermione was just about to tell them how rude Ron had been to her when suddenly a hundred or so
owls flew into the Great Hall. All of them jumped in surprise and stared up at the ceiling in shock
as the birds swooped in, dropping parcels and letters in front of people before flying back out. A
tawny owl dropped a letter on to Shae's plate and swooped out, almost clipping Hermione in the
head with its wing. The owls eventually cleared out and Neville let out a relieved sigh, going back
to his breakfast.

“You're happy you didn't get anything?” Parvati asked, looking puzzled. Shae ripped open
the letter and read it quickly before stuffing it into her bag.

“Not getting anything means I didn't forget anything at home,” he replied with a grin.
Seamus laughed and Hermione shook her head at him.

“Look, Professor McGonagall's handing out the timetables,” Fay pointed out, nodding towards
the front of the table where the witch had started to pass them out. Hermione squeaked excitedly,
gaining odd looks from the others but she ignored them. She could barely contain her excitement
when Professor McGonagall passed by them, handing them their timetables before moving on to Harry
and Ron.

`*Granger, Hermione. Gryffindor - First Year Schedule.*

**Monday:**

*9:00 - 10:30: Double History of Magic*

*10:45 - 11:30: Herbology (Hufflepuff)*

*11:30 - 12:30: Lunch Break*

*12:45 - 1:30: Defense Against the Dark Arts (Ravenclaw)*

**Tuesday:**

*10:45 - 11:30: Herbology (Hufflepuff)*

*11:30 - 12:30: Lunch Break*

*12:45 - 2:15**:* *Double Transfiguration (Ravenclaw)*

**Wednesday:**

*9:00 - 10:30: Double Charms (Hufflepuff)*

*10:45 - 11:30: Herbology (Hufflepuff)*

*11:30 - 12:30: Lunch Break*

*12:45 - 1:30: Transfiguration (Ravenclaw)*

*12:00am - 12:45**am: Astronomy*

**Thursday:**

*10:45 - 11:30: Charms (Hufflepuff)*

*11:30 - 12:30: Lunch Break*

*12:45 - 2:15* *Double* *Defense Against the Dark Arts* *(Ravenclaw)*

**Friday***:*

*9:00 - 10:30: Double Potions (Slyt**herin)'*

Below the timetable were the room numbers and a brief explanation on how to get to each
classroom. Hermione was in the middle of rereading her timetable when Shae reached over and yanked
it out of her hand. “Hey!” she sputtered. “Give that back!”

Shae shushed her and looked over Hermione's timetable. She grabbed Neville's and looked
it over as well. “Looks like all of us have the same lessons,” she said, handing the timetables
back to Hermione and Neville.

“Look at our Wednesday's,” Lavender groaned.

“I know,” Hermione agreed. “I wish our Tuesday's, Thursday's and Friday's were like
that.”

“What?” she screeched. “How could you want *more* lessons?”

“Because I want to *learn*,” she snipped. Shae, Parvati, and Lavender all stared at her in
shock.

“Well we know who to go to for homework help,” Shae smiled brightly.

“What makes you think -” she began hotly.

“I was *kidding*, Hermione,” Shae interrupted with a roll of her eyes.

Hermione huffed and finished her breakfast in silence.

Soon it was time for them to head to History of Magic. Everyone gathered together, nominating
Seamus to be the one to lead them to the classroom. With his timetable in hand, he led them up to
the first floor and down a corridor.

“Fred and George say that History of Magic is only good for catching up on sleep,” Ron told
Harry as they all followed Seamus. Hermione frowned, biting her tongue so she didn't reply to
that.

“Here it is!” Seamus exclaimed, grinning as he pushed open the door and walked into the
classroom. They all piled in, Hermione grabbing a desk in the front row. Neville followed and sat
down beside her, Fay slipping into the desk on her other side. To Hermione's surprise, Harry
grabbed the desk that was behind her and Ron reluctantly followed, plopping down heavily into the
desk beside him.

Hermione took out her notebook and opened it up, grabbing her quill and neatly writing the date
and subject at the top of the page. She had just settled into her desk when an old looking ghost
with thick glasses floated in through the blackboard. Everyone jumped and Parvati and Lavender
screamed as he stopped in front of the teacher's desk, looking around the room.

“Welcome to your first lesson at Hogwarts,” he drawled in a monotone voice. “I am Professor
Binns and this is History of Magic. Let's get started. Now, as we all know Merlin started…”

Everyone rushed to get their things ready as Professor Binns immediately went into different
dates and scenarios. After getting over the initial shock of seeing a ghost float through a wall,
Hermione couldn't believe how fitting it was for one to be teaching *History* of Magic and
mentally stored this information so she could write about it in her letter to Viola.

For fifteen minutes there was nothing but the sound of Professor Binns' dull, monotone voice
and the furious scribbling of everyone trying to write down what he said. He didn't wait for
people to finish writing down the point he made before he moved onto another date in Merlin's
life. Hermione was hunched over her desk, scribbling everything down as neatly as she could and
trying to keep up. Others started to give up gradually and by the end of the lesson Hermione was
the only one left writing down notes.

“That wasn't a lesson,” Ron complained loudly once the hour and a half was up. “That was
*torture*!”

“It wasn't *that* bad,” Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. They had all grouped
together again as they made their way to the greenhouses outside. Hermione was gently massaging the
hand cramp she had gotten from writing down all the notes and secretly hoped that their Herbology
professor would be *slightly* easier on them.

“Hermione, *you* were the only one writing by the end.” Ron pointed out.

“What's his problem?” Shae whispered to Hermione. She just shook her head.

Herbology was, to everyone's relief, a *lot* different from History of Magic. Professor
Sprout was a squat little witch who spent ten minutes explaining the advantages of Herbology before
pairing them off and instructing them to replant a strange looking shrub. Professor Sprout wanted
to start friendships between houses so she went around and paired a Gryffindor with a Hufflepuff.
Hermione lucked out and was paired with Sally-Anne, spending the entire lesson talking with her
about how her first night at Hogwarts was.

Herbology finished and everyone rushed to lunch, Seamus and Dean going on about what they hoped
to learn in Defense Against the Dark Arts that day. Hermione rolled her eyes, if they had read the
required books they'd know that the things they wanted to learn wouldn't be covered until
fifth year.

Defense Against the Dark Arts, unfortunately, wasn't like anything they thought it would be.
As soon as Hermione entered the classroom she was hit with the very strong stench of garlic, making
her nose burn and eyes water. She wasn't the only one who had that reaction to the smell;
Neville turned an interesting shade of green and Lavender had to constantly have a chunk of her
hair under her nose so she wouldn't gag from the smell. Professor Quirrell wasn't much
better. Stuttering and stumbling over his words, Professor Quirrell seemed terrified of the
subject. When asked to elaborate on certain facts, he would turn the colour of his turban and
change the subject.

Every lesson Hermione had so far surprised her one way or another so she was excited to see how
Transfiguration was going to be. She anxiously sat down in the front desk with Neville and Seamus
Tuesday afternoon, Professor McGonagall striding into the classroom moments later. She sternly told
them there would be no fooling around in her class and began to write complicated notes on the
blackboard. Like in History of Magic, everyone worked furiously to write everything she was saying
down but no one had the gall to stop, except for Ron.

“Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall snapped, making everyone in the room jump. Ron, who was
resting his chin on his hand snapped to attention. “Is there a reason *why* you aren't
writing this down?”

“Uh,” Ron stammered, going as red as his hair. “N-no… I, um… sorry Professor…”

“A point from Gryffindor,” Professor McGonagall said, turning back to the blackboard. “And you
can all thank Mr. Weasley for the extra homework due tomorrow.”

Everyone groaned and glared at Ron. Ron sunk down into his desk, going even redder in the face,
but picked up his quill and started copying down the notes. Professor McGonagall cleared the
blackboard ten minutes later and began to hand out match sticks, telling them to turn it into a
needle. By the end of the lesson, Hermione was the only one who was able to turn the match entirely
silver and pointy and earned back the point Ron had lost them.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms professor, seemed to favour Hermione slightly. Since she had
memorized all the spells and diagrams of proper wand movements during the summer, she was slightly
ahead of everyone else in Charms and often called upon to demonstrate. She flushed proudly when
Professor Flitwick told everyone to turn their attention to Hermione as she did the swish and flick
wand movement correctly her first try and earned another point for Gryffindor.

By Friday, Hermione was curious to see how Potions would go. She'd overheard other students
complaining about Professor Snape and wanted to see for herself if everything that had been said
against him was true or not. However, within the first ten minutes of their first lesson, Hermione
was *very* tempted to report Professor Snape to Professor Dumbledore. He openly patronized
Harry for not knowing the answers to his questions and then accused him of thinking he could get by
with his celebrity status. If that wasn't bad enough, Professor Snape downright *ignored*
Hermione when she had raised her hand to answer the questions Harry didn't, snapping at her to
sit down when Harry mentioned that Hermione might know the answer (she still wasn't sure if
that was meant as a compliment or insult). The rest lesson was full of Snape's snide comments
to the Gryffindors, boasting loudly when the Slytherins got their potions right but sneering at the
Gryffindors when they made tiny mistakes.

Hermione and Parvati were paired together and managed to brew their potion perfectly but Snape
just passed by them with a condescending, “I suppose that's *barely* passable.”

Hermione felt her temper flare and was about to speak up when Parvati jabbed her in her side.
“Don't push him,” she hissed in her ear. “Padma said that Snape already gave a Ravenclaw
detention for asking what was wrong with his potion.”

Hermione snapped her mouth shut and sat back in her seat, glaring at Professor Snape as he
bullied Neville and Seamus.

“Now *that* was torture,” Shae complained as they were finally let out of Potions. Neville
had had an accident with his potion and had to be taken to the Hostpial Wing by Seamus. The rest of
the lesson was filled with Snape and other Slytherins commenting on how inept Gryffindors seemed to
be at following directions.

“I'd take History of Magic over Potions any day,” Dean said. “But at least we have the rest
of the day off.”

“What are you going to do for the rest of the day?” Fay asked Hermione as they watched Harry and
Ron sprint out of the castle.

“I'm going to write a letter to my family and then get to work on homework,” Hermione
replied.

Lavender's eyebrows shot up. “Homework?” she said. “*Why*? It's not even noon.”

“Well, there's still a lot to do,” Hermione said, shrugging. “We have the homework that
Professor McGonagall, Professor Quirrell, and Professor Flitwick assigned, plus the reading
Professor Binns told us to do and the plant diagrams Professor Sprout gave us.”

Shae, Lavender, Fay, Parvati, and Dean all stared at Hermione in shock. “You're
*really* going to do all of that this weekend?” Lavender asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said, nodding slowly. “It *is* due next week. In fact, why don't we all
work on it together?”

A chorus of `*no*' was shot back at Hermione. She frowned as Dean took off to go see
how Neville was doing and the girls announced they were going to go outside. “Sorry Hermione,” Shae
said apologetically, “but I want to have fun on my day off.”

Hermione sighed and watched as the girls made their way out of the castle. She slowly walked up
the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, wondering what she was doing wrong. Throughout the week it was
clear that relationships were starting to form between the different first years but Hermione was
still being treated like an acquaintance - like she wasn't a friend but she wasn't a
stranger either. It hurt her when she'd watch the other girls wait for each other after class
and ignore her. But they were at least talking to her which was a lot more than the girls back home
had ever done.

The Gryffindor common room was empty when Hermione arrived so she grabbed a sofa by the window,
taking out a spare piece of parchment. She hadn't had the time to write her family during the
week (the reading and homework her professors gave them taking precedence) and felt guilty. She
knew her parents would understand but hoped that Viola wouldn't be too mad at her for not
writing straight away.

`*Mum, Daddy, and Vi,*

*I'm sorry it took so long for me to write, the first w**eek has been hectic! Lessons
are tough but I'm more prepared than I thought I would be. Did you know that I'm the only
one who pre-read all of the required textbooks? There's a girl in my dormitory, Shae, who
didn't even touch her books until Monday night! I have no idea how* *she* *can handle
going into the lesson blind without even an inkling of what will be talked about. It'd drive me
mad!* *Especially with all the homework the professors have been assigning. I knew magic would
be difficult but I wasn't expecting it to be like this.* *Either* *w**ay, I love
every moment here!*

*The train ride was… interesting. The boy we met on the platform (his name's Neville)
ended up losing his toad on the train so I offered to help him find it. While searching for it, I
ran into Sally-Anne! Yes, Perks! It turns out that she was the other witch Professor McGonagall
said she had to talk to.* *Susan wasn't given a letter though… can you tell me how
she's doing?*

*Vi, remember how we read about Harry Potter? He's a first year as well and so humble and
almost shy that you wouldn't think he was famous.* *Then again, h**e grew up not
knowing he was famous so that plays a part.*

*Anyway, the Sorting Ceremony:* *we* *first years were led to the castle by boats
(second years and up go to the castle by carriage) and then had to line up and walk through the
Great Hall. We were sorted by an old, magical hat. It was weird! I had to put the hat on and he
seemed to see into my mind. He said that I was intelligent but that my bravery and courage
outweighed that so I ended up in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw. I don't mind, the others seem
nice and talk to me.* *There's one boy who is just… ugh. He seems to have something
personal against me and I can't figure out what!*

*The castle is amazing. Vi, think of how cool we thought Hogwarts sounded when we read it
in* Hogwarts, A History *and multiply it by ten. That's how it is in person. I haven't
had time to really explore but I hope to finish my homework early and spend the rest of the weekend
getting to know the castle - I haven't even found the library yet! Eep!*

*Oh! Our teacher for History of Magic is a* *ghost**! No lie!* *Unfortunately
h**e's extremely boring and doesn't seem to care if people pay attention duri**ng
his lesson or not, which is a shame. If he were to liven things up a bit the lesson would be very
interesting.*

*But I sh**ould really start on my homework.* *I just wanted to send a letter to let
you know how I am.*

*I love and miss you,*

*Hermione.*'

Hermione scanned the letter and folded it up. She would ask Percy at dinner where the Owlery was
and send the letter. Grabbing her bag she took out her History of Magic textbook and leaned back
against the squishy sofa, opening up to the chapter Professor Binns had told them to read.

Lavender and Parvati entered the common room hours later, Lavender's eyes bulging when she
spotted Hermione on the sofa. “Have you been doing homework the *entire* day?” she asked,
going up to her.

Hermione nodded, pausing to look up at the girls before going back to her notes. She had
actually finished all the assigned homework over an hour ago and decided that her notes were too
messy to study from. She had made sure to buy extra notebooks and was currently rewriting
everything that they had learned in Transfiguration down neatly in point form, adding tidbits she
learned from her textbook down in the margin.

“Wow, Hermione,” Lavender breathed, shaking her head. “Don't you think you're taking
this a *little* too far?”

“How so?”

“It's only the first week! And we're first years; they have to go easy on us.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Oh *really*,” she challenged. “How much homework did Professor
McGonagall assign us on Wednesday? Have either of you finished the *three* chapters Professor
Sinistra told us to read on constellations? Or what about practicing the different wand movements
for Professor Flitwick?” Hermione rolled her eyes at Lavender and Parvati's blank expressions.
“If this is the first week think of how much homework we'll be getting once we're settled
in. Just because we're first years doesn't mean they'll go easy on us. In fact, we have
*so* much to learn that I bet they're going harder on us than other years.”

Lavender was speechless for a moment, opening and closing her mouth while Parvati looked
embarrassed. “You're mad,” she finally said, turning on her heel and stomping up the stairs to
their dormitory.

**<><><>**

**5 July, 2016**

“*…**turning on her heel-*” Lindsay cut off, yawning loudly, “*and stomping up the
stairs to thei**r* *-*” She cut off again with another loud yawn. Groaning, she closed
the journal and rested her head against the back of the sofa. Her throat felt dry and she sounded
hoarse. “I can't read anymore, I'm too tired.”

Karen nodded, yawning herself, as she grabbed her mobile from the table. Her eyes bulged,
“It's nearly two in the morning! We've been here for six hours!”

“What?” Lindsay grabbed her own mobile, which had been on silent, and groaned at all the unread
text messages. “My roommates probably think I've been abducted.”

Karen got up and stretched as Lindsay wrapped the string around the journal. Both thankful that
their shifts weren't until the afternoon, they put the journal back in the storeroom and
stumbled out of Just Imagine. Karen had offered to drive Lindsay home earlier that day instead of
her roommate coming to pick her up. She unlocked the doors to her car and they both climbed in.

The car was silent as Karen pulled out of her parking space and onto the empty road. Lindsay
yawned again and then looked at her friend, “So… what do you think?”

“Honestly, I haven't really formed an opinion,” she replied after a moment's pause.
“It's *good* and I like all the new characters but… I just don't know.”

Lindsay nodded, feeling exactly the same way. “We did get through a good chunk of the journal
tonight.”

“Six hours of straight reading will do that,” she snorted.

“It isn't much of a journal,” Lindsay observed. “It's more of a novel.”

“The note did say that it was meant as a companion series.”

“Oh yeah… that makes sense then,” she said. “Why make a companion series in a different style of
writing?” Karen nodded as she pulled up to a red light. “I wonder what'll be different. The
note that was left said that J.K. Rowling's version `*strayed from the truth'* but so
far it's been pretty much the same as the *Philosopher's Stone.*”

“Well…remember when we were looking through all of them,” Karen began, “and some of them up to a
certain number had a long title scratched out?”

“I think so.”

“Maybe that's when it changes. Even if it takes a while for the changes to happen, whoever
wrote the journals obviously put a *lot* of work into it - they're handwritten for
Christ's sake! And well-written and not just copying what happened in the *Philosopher's
Stone* and switching it so Hermione is with Harry every step of the way and faces everything he
does. I think it'd be insulting not to read it after seeing how much work has been put in. We
owe this H.J. that much at least.”

Karen finished her rant with a look of determination on her face. Lindsay bit her lip, unable to
keep the laughter to herself. “Getting a little excited about this, aren't you?” she teased,
giggling.

“Well, no I -” she cut off, going red. “Shut up, Lindsay. I know that you feel the exact same
way.”

“Maybe,” she grinned. “But it's *so much fun* watching you get all worked up over
it.”

“Do you want to walk home?”

“Alright, sorry,” Lindsay laughed, her exhaustion starting to ebb away as she teased her friend.
The light changed and Karen sped off, still red in the face. “Okay so nothing of real importance
happens to Hermione in the *Philosopher's Stone* except when she has to help Ron and then
send an owl to Dumbledore at the end of the book.”

“It's pretty much Harry off on his own and then telling Ron and Hermione what he overheard,”
Karen agreed, nodding.

“So,” Lindsay began, “how about we hurry up and finish the first year so we can get to the good
stuff?”

“I'm not sure I follow.”

“We both agree that staying after hours at Just Imagine is dangerous,” she said, rolling her
eyes.

“Yes.”

“Well, what if we take *1.1* and *1.2* and read them at your flat?”

“Weren't you the one who said we shouldn't risk it because we would have to face the
wrath of Mrs. P if she found out?”

“Well, yes,” Lindsay shifted. “But I don't think I could handle being able to read an hour
or two at a time. We *just* got to Hogwarts and we spent how many hours reading?”

“Only because you kept on stopping to clear your throat,” Karen pointed out.

“My throat was dry and there wasn't any water.”

“I don't think we should risk it, Lindsay.” Karen said with a note of finality in her voice.
“We'll stay after hours at Just Imagine just like we've been doing. But we'll come
prepared - bring water and food. And I'll read next time so you can rest your poor throat.”

“It's going to take forever to finish the journals,” Lindsay groaned.

“Oh suck it up.”

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**End Notes****:** **Short chapter, I know. Some of you have been asking questions about
Lindsay and Karen and whether or not I've abandoned their part of the story. The answer is:**
**no I have not.** **Lindsay and Karen play a crucial role in** **Her Story****,**
**but their time to shine doesn't come in until much later. So I'm sorry if people have
been wanting more of them, it isn't going to happen for a long time.**

**Drop a review and tell me what you thought abou****t Hermione's timetable! I put like,
4 hours of research and planning into** **that thing. See ya next week!**

**Kelci**

-->



8. Seven: The Games Children Play
---------------------------------



**Seven**

**“The Games Children Play”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking he****r world and tweaking it a bit.**

**Note One****:** **Hey guys!** **Thanks so much for the lovely reviews, it means a
lot to me!** **This week has been interesting. You know how Neville is this huge klutz?
That's me in real life. Case in point: I was writing a scene for a later chapter and needed to
reference** **PS****. So I got up and went to the living room to grab the book and tripped
over my cat who blended in with the carpet and sprained my ankle. That was the same spot AND same
foot that I broke 2 toes because I ran into the bookshelf last year…** **Anyway, I hope you
enjoy this chapter. It was so much fun to write.**

**EDITED 06/13****/2011: Just some date changes and minor edits.**

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**8 September, 1991**

After using her free weekend to explore the castle (the library was even better than in her
wildest dreams), Hermione entered the Gryffindor common room Sunday evening and was immediately
pulled into a corner by Lavender and Shae. “What is it?” she asked, yanking her arm out of
Lavender's grip. Since her comment to Hermione on Friday she had begun to take a great
disliking to blonde girl.

“You have to help us,” Shae pleaded, giving Hermione the puppy dog eyes.

“With what?” Hermione asked warily.

“The plant diagrams are due tomorrow,” Lavender said, “and we're stuck on the first
one!”

Hermione stared at the two girls, not understanding how they were stuck on a diagram when all
they had to do was look in a book to find the answers. “Skip it and go onto the next one,” she said
turning to walk away.

“You aren't going to help us?” Shae asked, her expression falling.

“I offered to work on it together Friday,” Hermione reminded, staring at the two girls. “Shae,
your exact words were `*I want to have fun on my day off*.' Well looks like you had too
much fun and left it to the last minute.”

“I guess you're right,” she said quietly, sitting back down at the table. Hermione refused
to feel guilty for not helping her out; it *was* Shae's fault for procrastinating in the
first place.

“So you're just going to ignore your fellow *housemates* when they need help?” Lavender
challenged.

“Lavender, you made fun of me for finishing all my homework Friday afternoon,” Hermione pointed
out, choosing to ignore the way she had said housemates. She looked down at the table and saw that
both girls' Herbology textbooks were closed. Rolling her eyes, she couldn't resist saying,
“You know if you were to actually *read* your textbooks you'd know that all of the
diagrams were in the first chapter.”

“Thanks Hermione!” Shae said, her expression brightening. Hermione mentally scolded herself,
realizing she had given the girls the answer even when she said she wasn't going to. “And I am
sorry for what I said Friday. It was pretty rude of me.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, shocked, “no, it's fine.” She stared as Shae opened the book, grinning
when she found the diagram she had been stuck on. Hermione wasn't expecting Shae to apologize
and was surprised at how genuine it sounded. Shifting uncomfortably, Hermione decided she would
help Shae the next time she needed help with homework.

“I'm not going to apologize for what I said,” Lavender said snidely, sitting down and
opening her own book, “because what I said was true.”

“Lavender,” Shae hissed.

“Its fine, Shae,” Hermione said stiffly. “If you need help on any other homework and you
didn't leave it until the last possible moment, let me know.” She childishly ignored Lavender
as she spoke, letting her know that the invitation was for the ginger girl only.

Shae glanced between Hermione and Lavender. “I will, thanks,” she said slowly.

“Well, I think I'm going to turn in,” Hermione said, turning. “Goodnight.”

She briefly heard Shae bid her goodnight as she marched up the stairs. Fay was sitting on her
bed reading a book when Hermione stormed into the dorm, going to her trunk and grabbing her
pyjamas. “What's wrong?” Fay asked, looking up at her in concern.

“It's nothing,” Hermione said and went into the bathroom to go shower. She turned on the
water and yanked her uniform off, stepping into the shower and letting the hot water pelt her
frustration away. Lavender was just like the girls from back home, making fun of her one moment
then expecting her to help the next.

Parvati was in bed by the time Hermione exited the bathroom. She walked softly to her bed and
put her dirty clothes in the hamper that happened to be beside it.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Fay whispered, getting up and going over to Hermione's
bed.

“I'm fine,” she sighed, sitting down.

“Want to talk about it?” she asked, sitting down beside Hermione.

Hermione glanced towards Parvati, not wanting her to overhear - Lavender and Parvati had become
close during the first week and she wasn't sure if the young Indian girl was really asleep. Fay
sat up on her knees and pulled the curtains to Hermione's bed shut. “Talk,” she demanded.

“It's Lavender,” Hermione whispered after a moment. She felt bad for talking about the
blonde behind her back.

“I figured,” Fay said. “You and her don't seem to get along too well.”

“She makes fun of me for finishing my work early but then expects me to just *help* her,”
Hermione ranted. “She can't have it both ways.”

“Lavender's just like that,” Fay defended weakly. “I'm not saying that what she's
doing is right but -”

The door opened and Lavender and Shae's voices could be heard through the curtain. Fay cut
herself off quickly, slapping her hand over her mouth. Hermione bit her lip, trying to listen to
see if Lavender had heard them. Lavender went into the bathroom and Fay let out a relieved
sigh.

“Fay? Hermione?” Shae was at the corner of Hermione's bed and poked her head through the
curtains. “What are you two doing?”

“Oh, nothing,” Fay said quickly, pulling back Hermione's curtains and going to her own
bed.

Shae looked like she didn't believe her but didn't say anything. “Thanks again,
Hermione,” she said. “You really helped me out.”

“I just told you to open your book,” Hermione shrugged.

“Yeah well, you know that Lavender and I wouldn't have thought of that,” Shae replied, blush
dusting her cheeks. Fay let out an amused snort and shook her head.

“You're welcome, Shae,” Hermione said, giving her a smile. She got into bed and snuggled
into her pillow.

“I *so* don't want to go to History of Magic tomorrow,” Shae moaned, flopping lazily
onto her bed. “Can I just not go?”

“Shae-” Hermione began.

“Kidding, kidding.”

Hermione woke up the next morning to the door snapping shut. She blinked groggily and looked
around, slightly surprised that Lavender and Parvati's beds were empty. She sat up and rubbed
her eyes, pushing back her covers. Fay was just sitting up herself, looking very dishevelled. “Good
morning,” Hermione called, opening her trunk and grabbing her toiletries and a fresh uniform.

“Morning,” Fay yawned.

Hermione left to go to the bathroom where she dressed and got ready for the day. Once she was
done, she tossed her pyjamas onto her bed and sat down as Fay slipped into the bathroom, wanting to
wait for the brunette. Her concern last night had touched Hermione and she was reminded that even
though some of the first years were cruel to her, Hermione had Fay, Neville, Sally-Anne, and
sometimes Shae to fall back on.

Fay looked surprised to see Hermione waiting for her when she exited the bathroom. She smiled,
“Thanks, Hermione.”

Hermione smiled back and the two girls left the dormitory together. When they hit the common
room they noticed the Gryffindor boys huddling around the bulletin board and went over to see what
was going on.

`*NOTICE FOR ALL FIRST YEARS,*

*Starting this Thursday (**12 September**) there will be flying lessons with
Slytherin at 3:30. Lessons will continue bi-weekly (if weather permits) for the rest of
term.*

*Flying instructor,*

*Madam Hooch'*

Fay screeched excitedly once they read the notice and started jumping up and down, yanking on
Hermione's arm. “Flying lessons, Hermione!” she squealed. “*Finally*!”

“Excited, Fay?” Seamus asked, grinning.

Fay rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at him. She looked towards Hermione, who hadn't
said anything about the new lesson, and frowned. “Hermione?”

“*Flying* lessons?” she squeaked, feeling her stomach jump nervously. She had never been a
fan of heights (she nearly had a panic attack on the plane to France when her parents had taken her
and Viola) and the idea of being on something as flimsy and unsafe as a *broom* did not sit
well with Hermione.

“Scared, Hermione?” Ron taunted.

“No,” she bit out.

“Flying isn't something you can be good at by reading a book, you know,” he commented as the
group headed out of the common room. “You either got it or you don't.”

Hermione never wanted to hurt Ron Weasley more than she did at that moment.

“I can give you tips if you want,” Fay offered, glaring at Ron's back.

Hermione shook her head, too prideful to take her help. She'd just have to go to the library
and read up on all the flying books that there were. She'd be totally fine.

Lessons seemed to blur together for Hermione that day; she couldn't even concentrate enough
to write down everything Professor Binns had lectured them. Ron noticed this and continued to taunt
Hermione, loving the fact that she was out of her element, and kept offering her tips and
advice.

Neville was just as nervous as Hermione was, allowing Fay to give him tips throughout the entire
day. Hermione could see why Neville was so nervous - he was the most accident prone person she had
ever met and felt anxious just at the thought of Neville and broom together in the same
sentence.

As soon as the last lesson of the day was let out, Hermione gathered up her things and rushed to
the library. “Where's the flying section?” she asked the librarian Madam Pince.

Madam Pince looked startled but pointed to a section in the back. Hermione rushed over and
pulled out different books and brought them to a small table. For hours she poured over the books,
growing horrified when one of the books had a chapter dedicated to the worst flying accidents and
injuries recorded throughout history - *with* moving pictures. She put that one back on the
shelf and was grabbing *Quidditch through the Ages* when her stomach grumbled loudly.

Glancing at her watch, Hermione was surprised to see that it was dinner time. She grabbed a few
more books and checked them out, stuffing them into her bag and running to the Great Hall.

“Where have you been?” Shae asked, laughing as Hermione plopped down and immediately began
filling her plate.

“Library,” she answered.

“Oh no,” Fay groaned, putting her head into her hands. “Hermione, *please* tell me you
weren't looking for books on flying.”

“*Really* Hermione?” Lavender laughed.

“I *told* you that you can ask me for tips,” Fay whispered, shooting a glare at Lavender.
“I've flown loads of times and Ron is right, this is something you can't learn from
books.”

“We'll see about that,” Hermione replied, shoving potatoes into her mouth. Fay rolled her
eyes but let the subject drop.

For the rest of the week, Hermione read nothing but books on flying and Quidditch (which was a
dangerous looking sport played on brooms), determined to know as much as possible when it came to
their flying lesson. Neville had gotten as much information as he could out of Fay and had gone to
Hermione, asking her to repeat the facts and tips she had read. She could tell that others were
getting slightly annoyed at her but didn't pay them any attention. If *they* had seen the
grotesque pictures from flying accidents and seen the people writhing in pain, they would want to
know as much as possible too.

“Hermione,” Shae growled Thursday morning when they were getting ready for breakfast. Hermione
was mumbling facts she'd read in *Quidditch through the Ages* to herself as she pulled on
her stockings. “I mean this in the nicest way possible - *shut up*.”

Hermione glared at Shae and walked out of the dorm, still running the facts over in her
head.

“Hermione!” Neville was waiting for her in the common room. He stood up and walked towards her,
looking pale. “I've forgotten what you told me about turning the broom.”

Hermione talked non-stop on the way down to the Great Hall, reciting the proper way to grip a
broom and tips on how to control the height you wanted to go. Shae looked like she wanted to
strangle Hermione, Fay looked exasperated, Harry looked annoyed, and Ron didn't bother to hide
his grin from her during breakfast as she continued to recite facts. She was eventually cut off
when owl post came and a small box was dropped in front of Neville.

They all watched as Neville opened the package and pulled out a glass ball filled with white
smoke. “It's a Remembrall!” he exclaimed, all thoughts of their flying lesson forgotten. He
gestured for everyone to move closer as he explained how it worked. “Gran knows I forget things and
this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like
this and if it turns red - oh…” Neville's face fell as the Remembrall suddenly turned
scarlet.

“What did you forget?” Dean asked, interested.

Neville couldn't think what he had forgotten and was trying to remember when the Remembrall
was snatched out of his hand by Draco Malfoy, the blonde Slytherin that had pushed Hermione into
the wall during their train ride to Hogwarts. Malfoy seemed to have something against Harry and Ron
and taunted them constantly. The feeling was mutual however - Harry and Ron hated Malfoy with a
passion. They immediately jumped to their feet.

“Give that back,” Harry demanded, his eyes flashing.

Professor McGonagall had the uncanny ability to sniff out trouble before it began and was there
in an instant. “What's going on?” she demanded.

“Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor.” Neville said quickly.

Malfoy scowled and slammed the glass ball back onto the table. “Was just looking,” he said,
turning back to his table. Two big goons followed him.

“Thanks, Professor,” Neville said, picking up his Remembrall and putting it into the pocket of
his robes.

Professor McGonagall nodded and went back to the head table. Harry and Ron sat back down, both
glaring furiously at the Slytherin table. “The git,” Ron grumbled, shoving eggs violently into his
mouth.

Since the flying lesson was the one thing Hermione was least looking forward to, the day -
naturally - sped by. At three-thirty the Gryffindors hurried outside to a patch of grass near the
castle where the Slytherin first years were already waiting. Twenty brooms were laid out in two
rows on the grass.

Madam Hooch arrived shortly after and instructed them to stand on the left side of a broom. Her
sharp yellow eyes examined the students in front of her as they waited for further instruction.
“Stick your right hand over your broom and say `Up!'”

“Up!” everyone chorused.

To Hermione's dismay, her broom just rolled over. She glanced up and saw that Harry, Fay,
and Malfoy were the first ones to get their brooms into their hands.

“Up!” Ron shouted, frustrated that his broom was just hovering above the ground. “UP!”

The broom shot up with so much force that Ron wasn't able to catch it. It pitched upwards
and smacked him straight in the face. Stunned, Ron tumbled to the ground as the people around him -
except for Hermione - laughed. He struggled to get up and snatched the broom into his hand, a large
red mark on his forehead.

“Shut up, Harry,” he grumbled. Harry tried to stop laughing and couldn't look Ron in the
face.

Hermione glared down at her broom. By now she was one of the few to not have a broom in hand.
“Up!” she said forcefully. To her pleasant surprise, the broom rose steadily up into her hand.

Once everyone had gotten their broom up off the ground, Madam Hooch went around and showed them
how to properly mount their brooms.

“Grip it like this,” she said when she got to Malfoy, repositioning his fingers slightly. “This
way will give you more control.”

Malfoy flushed, “But my father taught me *this* way.” He moved his fingers back to the way
they were before.

“And *that* way,” Madam Hooch said, once again repositioning his fingers, “is wrong.”

Hermione caught Harry and Ron grinning wickedly at each other as Malfoy went beet red.

“Well done,” Madam Hooch said when she got to Hermione. “Good grip technique.” Hermione flushed
proudly and shot a smug smile at Ron, who looked like he had swallowed something foul. Her grin got
even wider when Madam Hooch repositioned Ron's fingers slightly. She had studied the proper way
to grip a broom in one of the books she took out from the library and felt extremely proud that she
learned something about flying from a book. `*Take* that*, Ron*.'

“Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard,” Madam Hooch said, standing in
front the class. Hermione snapped her attention back to the instructor. “Keep your brooms steady,
rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forwards slightly. On my whistle -
three - two -”

Neville jumped the gun and practically sprang off the ground. Hermione's heart leapt into
her throat as she watched Neville spiral five, ten, fifteen, twenty feet up into the air.

“Come back, boy!” Madam Hooch was shouting.

Everyone watched with horrified expressions as Neville leaned forward a little too much, lost
his grip, and slipped off the broom. There were screams and shouts as he fell and -

*CRACK!*

A sickening crack was heard once he hit the ground. Madam Hooch bolted to where Neville lay,
moaning and whimpering in pain, and the Gryffindors followed closely behind. Shae looked like she
was about to faint and clutched at Lavender, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“You're okay,” Madam Hooch said soothingly, helping Neville sit up. She clucked her tongue,
examining his left arm. “A broken wrist… let's get you to the Hospital Wing.” She turned to the
rest of the class as Neville put his full weight onto her, piercing all of them with her hawk like
stare. “None of you are to move while I take this boy to the Hospital Wing! You leave those brooms
where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts faster than you can say `Quidditch.'”

The Gryffindors shifted uneasily as they watched Madam Hooch lead Neville into the castle. All
of the pride Hermione had felt when Madam Hooch complimented her was gone as she replayed what
happened to Neville over and over again in her head.

“Did you see the great lump's face?” Malfoy burst into laughter. The other Slytherins joined
in laughing.

“Shut up, Malfoy!” Parvati snapped, looking shaken.

“Ooooh is he your *boyfriend?*” Pug-faced Pansy Parkinson taunted as the other Slytherin
girls shrieked with laughter.

“Look!” Malfoy darted forward and snatched a glass ball up from the grass. Hermione recognized
it instantly as Neville's Remembrall as he held it up for the rest of the group to see.
“It's this stupid thing his gran sent him.”

“Give that here, Malfoy,” Harry said. He didn't say it loudly but spoke with enough
authority to make everyone stop talking and look at him.

“I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find… how about in that tree over there?”
Malfoy smiled nastily, picking up his broom.

“Give it here!” Harry yelled, taking a step towards him.

Malfoy leapt onto his broom and took off into the air, flying higher than the tallest tree. All
week long Ron had been reassuring Harry that Malfoy was all talk when he bragged about flying - and
it was clear that Ron was wrong. Malfoy tossed the Remembrall up in the air and caught it. “Come
and get it, Potter!” he taunted.

Harry grabbed his broom and mounted it.

“Harry, no!” Hermione leapt forward, placing her hand on the broom handle. “You *heard*
what Madam Hooch said, you'll get us all into trouble! You'll be *expelled*!” Harry
ignored her, pushing up off the ground and flying up to where Malfoy was waiting. She felt a
flutter in her stomach as he shot up. It was clear that Harry was a natural at flying.

“Go Harry!” Fay shouted.

Hermione's head whipped around to face the brunette. “Are you mad?” she seethed. “Don't
encourage him, Fay! He's breaking -”

“Knock him off his broom, Harry!” Ron whopped, cutting her off.

“*Ron*!” she exclaimed.

“Oh go tell it to a teacher, Hermione,” Ron sneered.

Hermione's mouth dropped open at the insult. She was about to answer back when all the girls
shrieked. Spinning around, Hermione's stomach dropped when she looked up to see Harry suddenly
charge at Malfoy. Malfoy managed to dodge just in time and Harry spun around to face him. Everyone
(except Hermione) broke out into applause as both houses cheered on their housemates. They were too
high up to hear what they were saying but words were exchanged and Malfoy chucked the Remembrall up
into the air before zooming back down to the ground.

Harry leaned the broom forward and went into a nose dive, making Hermione and the other girls
scream. Hermione covered her eyes but peeked through the cracks of her fingers to see Harry catch
the Remembrall three feet from the ground and pull up out of the dive. He toppled off the broom and
onto the grass gently, raising the fist that clutched the Remembrall into the air.

People began to cheer and run for Harry but stopped dead when a furious scream came from the
doors of the castle.

“*HARRY POTTER!*”

For the second time that day, Professor McGonagall was able to sniff out trouble when it was
brewing and was striding towards them angrily. Her eyes flashed dangerously and nostrils flared as
Harry got up, all colour draining from his face as he watched her move towards him.

“*Never* in all my time -” Hermione's eyes widened. The usually calm and collected
professor was speechless, grasping for words, “- how *dare* you - might have broken your
*neck*-”

“It wasn't his fault, Professor.” Shae insisted.

“Be quiet, Miss Bevern.”

“*Malfoy* started it!” Ron argued.

“That's *enough*, Mr. Weasley. Mr. Potter, follow me.”

The Gryffindors watched as Harry followed after Professor McGonagall, his shoulders hunched
over. Hermione looked towards the Slytherins and saw Malfoy's triumphant face. She realized
that Malfoy must have seen Professor McGonagall before she saw him up in the air and bristled.
Malfoy should be getting in trouble as well; *he* was the one who provoked Harry.

“This will no doubt be on the headlines of the *Prophet* tomorrow,” Malfoy cackled
gleefully. “*Famous Harry Potter* expelled after only two weeks of school.”

“This is your bloody fault, Malfoy,” Ron snarled, advancing towards him. Malfoy's two goons
stepped in front of Malfoy and puffed out their chests. Seamus and Dean grabbed the back of
Ron's robes so he wouldn't take them both on, “Get out of here.”

“Do you think Harry will really be expelled?” Shae fretted, biting her nails as the Slytherins
made their way back into the castle.

“I hope not,” Hermione said. “But he *did* go up when Madam Hooch told us not to touch the
brooms…”

“Oh come off it, Hermione!” Ron cried, rounding on her. “He *had* to do that to get
Neville's Remembrall back!”

“I'm not saying that Harry started it! We all know that Malfoy provoked him!” Hermione shot
back. “But Harry should've been the better person and not gone after Malfoy like that.”

Ron glared murderously at Hermione before spinning around and stomping back to the castle. He
bent down to pick up the Remembrall from the grass (Harry must have dropped it) and shoved it in
his pocket. The rest of the Gryffindor boys gave Hermione annoyed glances as they followed. She
could hear them arguing over what spells were best to use against Malfoy as they entered the
castle.

Figuring the lesson was now over, Hermione followed the girls up to Gryffindor Tower. “You
shouldn't have said that, Hermione,” Fay muttered as the rest of the girls refused to talk to
her. Hermione rolled her eyes at their childish behaviours; as bad as she felt for Harry, he
*did* break the rules and had to face the consequences.

**<><><>**

Hermione's eyes widened when she entered the Great Hall for dinner and saw Harry sitting at
the Gryffindor table. He looked too happy to be having his last meal at Hogwarts and was telling
something to Ron, waving his arms excitedly as he told his tale. Hermione could tell from
expression that he didn't get into serious trouble and she felt relieved, going to sit down
across from Fay who was sitting a little ways away from the two boys.

“Not sitting with them?” she asked, nodding towards Harry and Ron.

“They're talking about something important,” Fay said, looking towards them. “As soon as I
got close to them they stopped talking so I left them alone.” Hermione shook her head, bemused. She
was learning that Fay was a lot more mature than regular eleven year olds.

“Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting on the train back to the muggles?”

Hermione and Fay both groaned as Malfoy approach Harry, his goons Crabbe and Goyle right behind
him. Hermione was beginning to greatly dislike the blonde Slytherin. “He just doesn't leave
them alone, does he?” Fay groaned, glaring at him.

“It's been like that since the first day,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes as she told Fay
about the incident on the Hogwarts Express.

“He's nothing but trouble,” Fay mumbled. Hermione nodded in agreement, watching as Harry and
Malfoy began to taunt each other. Hermione was determined to step in this time if Malfoy did
something - Harry had proved to her earlier that he wasn't able to resist being provoked by him
and was liable to do something extremely stupid.

“I'd take you on any time on my own,” Malfoy was saying. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard's
duel. Wands only - no contact.”

Hermione's eyes widened and Fay groaned, putting her head into her hands. Hermione watched
them accept and plan to meet up at the trophy room at midnight, her heart beginning to race.

“What if I wave my wand and nothing happens?” Harry asked Ron after Malfoy stalked away.

“Throw it away and punch him on the nose.”

“Leave it, Hermione,” Fay warned but Hermione already stood up and walked over to the two.

“Excuse me.”

“Can't a person eat in peace in this place?” Ron asked, throwing down his fork.

“I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying,” Hermione began.

“I bet you could,” Ron muttered.

“But you *mustn't* go wandering around the school late at night,” she continued,
ignoring Ron. “You already escaped being *expelled* today, Harry. Don't push your luck.
Think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught - which you're *bound*
to be. It's really very selfish of you.”

“And it's really none of your business,” Harry shot back.

“Goodbye,” Ron waved sarcastically. The two got up from the table and left the Great Hall,
leaving Hermione standing there. Harry had never been rude to Hermione before and she was slightly
hurt by his tone.

“I warned you,” Fay sighed when Hermione went to go sit back down.

“Well I couldn't just *sit* here while they planned this!” Hermione protested.

“Yes, you could've,” Fay returned. “Hermione, I like you - you're my friend - but you
*really* need to learn when to keep your mouth shut.”

Hermione stopped listening to Fay and looked around the Great Hall, it not registering to her
that Fay had just said she considered Hermione a friend. She knew she should tell a Prefect or a
professor about the wizard duel but wasn't sure who to tell. Professor McGonagall looked
extremely high strung as she ate dinner from the head table and she knew Professor Snape
wouldn't believe her if she told him Malfoy had been the one to challenge Harry to the
duel.

Hermione caught sight of Percy getting up from the table and walking out of the Great Hall. Fay
saw Hermione gazing at Percy and narrowed her eyes at her. “Hermione,” she warned in a low voice,
“don't you *dare*.”

Hermione didn't listen and she got up, ignoring Fay's cry of `*Hermione!*' and
chased after Percy, calling out to him.

Percy and another Prefect stopped to stare at Hermione. “Can I help you?” Percy asked,
straightening up and puffing out his chest.

“Yes, um,” Hermione trailed off, faltering. She *knew* it was the right thing to do but
wasn't sure if she could really tell on Harry and Ron. If she told Percy what was about to
happen, they would no doubt get into *serious* trouble and blame her. Fay would also be very
cross with Hermione as well. She licked her lips, figuring she should at least try to stop the
stupid boys one more time before getting a superior involved. “I… can't remember the new
password into Gryffindor,” she quickly made up.

“It's `pig snout,'” Percy said, smiling. “The password changes frequently so get used to
memorizing different ones.”

“Thanks, Percy,” Hermione smiled weakly as he and the other female made their way up the
staircase. She turned around and went back into the Great Hall, sitting back down. Shae and Dean
had joined Fay while she was gone. “I didn't do it.” she said to Fay when she glared at
Hermione.

“Didn't do what?” Dean asked.

“Nothing,” Hermione dismissed with a wave of her hand. She shot a warning glare at Fay to keep
quiet and went back to her dinner. Fay did keep quiet during dinner, and didn't speak up until
they were going back to Gryffindor Tower.

“You're going to try and stop them,” Fay accused.

“Of course I am,” she replied. “I'll get through to them.”

“Hermione, just let them go,” she begged. “Let them make the mistake and have them learn from
it. If you get in the way you'll only get in trouble along with them. And you and Ron already
disagree over so many things, if you butt in things will only get worse.”

“Fine,” Hermione relented, “if it means *that* much to you.”

“Thank you,” Fay smiled, giving the password to the Fat Lady. They walked into the common room
and saw Harry and Ron huddled in a corner with their heads together, no doubt planning for the
duel. Hermione glanced at Fay, who was watching her, and sighed. She wasn't really going to
stay put and watch as Harry and Ron got points taken away from Gryffindor. Hermione would just have
to intercept them when they tried to leave the common room that night.

The other Gryffindors were overjoyed that Harry hadn't received detention or any sort of
punishment. He was being secretive about what happened as they crowded around him, asking where
Professor McGonagall had taken him. Ron had an infuriating knowing smile as he sat back and watched
everyone question Harry, which left Hermione positive that there was something else that had
happened.

Fay kept a watchful eye on Hermione for the rest of the night, speaking up whenever Hermione
would glance at Harry and Ron for longer than a fraction of a second. Hermione wasn't sure why
Fay was so persistent for her to stay out of their business, and it was starting to get annoying.
Not being able to take Fay's scrutiny, Hermione announced that she was going to head up to bed.
To her surprise, the rest of the girls agreed and went up with her - all of them tired from the
drama that happened at the flying lesson. By ten-thirty, all of the girls (including Fay) were out
cold.

At eleven, Hermione pulled on her pink bathrobe (making sure her wand was in the pocket) and
slipped on her shoes as quietly as she could. She tip-toed out of the dorm and down the stairs,
making sure the common room was empty and dark before taking a seat in an armchair.

She waited for a half hour before hearing Harry and Ron make their way quietly down the stairs.
She waited until they almost reached the portrait hole before reaching over and flicking on a lamp.
It was almost comical the way Harry and Ron jumped and spun around and, if it hadn't been such
a grave situation, Hermione would have laughed.

“*You!*” Ron hissed furiously. “Go back to bed!”

“I almost told your brother!” she spat. “Percy would have put a stop to this.”

“Come on,” Harry said, tugging on Ron's arm and glaring at Hermione. He pushed the portrait
open and climbed out of it.

Hermione couldn't believe they had the gall to just ignore her and clambered out of the
common room after them. “Don't you care *at all* about Gryffindor? Slytherin is already in
the lead for the House Cup and with this stupid stunt you're pulling you'll be putting us
in last place!”

“Go away,” Ron bit out.

“Fine, I'll just go and wake up your brother and-” Hermione turned around, fully prepared on
going and waking up Percy. However, the portrait had shut behind her and the Fat Lady was nowhere
to be seen. “*Now* what am I going to do?”

“That's your problem, not ours.” Ron said.

“I'm coming with you,” she quickly decided.

“You are not!”

“It's either I go with you or I go to Professor McGonagall,” Hermione said, crossing her
arms. She would have a better chance going with them, especially if they were to get caught by
Filch. If they were caught, Hermione could just tell the caretaker that she was trying to
*stop* the boys and not get into any trouble at all. “Take your pick.”

“You have some nerve-”

“Shut up.” Harry hissed suddenly. Hermione and Ron stopped instantly as Harry peered off into a
corner where a snuffling sound was coming from. Stepping closer, they saw that it was Neville on
the floor, curled up in a little ball and fast asleep. Harry stepped towards him and he jerked
awake.

“You found me!” he exclaimed, getting up. “I was released from the Hospital Wing earlier but I
couldn't remember the password!”

“It's pig snout,” Hermione said. “But the Fat Lady's not in her portrait.”

“How's your arm?” Harry asked.

“It was healed instantly,” Neville said in a slightly awed voice, holding up his arm. “Madam
Pomfrey is an amazing witch. She healed my wrist in-”

“That's all very interesting, but we're going to be late,” Ron interrupted Neville.
“Come *on* Harry!”

“Don't leave me!” Neville cried, clinging to Harry's arm. “The Bloody Baron's been
past twice already.”

Ron glared furiously at Hermione and Neville. “If *either* of you get us caught…” he
trailed off, his threat lingering in the air.

“Come on,” Harry grumbled, marching off down the corridor. The four Gryffindors made their way
to the trophy room, keeping to the shadows and jumping at every little noise. Hermione couldn't
believe that Filch and Mrs. Norris hadn't caught them yet - they were walking down one of the
main corridors that was sure to be patrolled. A slight chill went down Hermione's spine and the
hair on the back of her neck stood on end; she had a *bad* feeling about this.

They reached the trophy room with no trouble and stood off to the side in the shadows. Harry and
Ron had their wands in their hands and had them pointed at the door while Hermione and Neville hid
behind them. The minutes ticked by and there was no sign of Malfoy.

“He's late,” Ron whispered, shifting anxiously. “Maybe he's chickened out.”

A noise in the next room made them all jump. Harry gripped his wand and raised it towards the
door as they heard Filch speak, telling Mrs. Norris to sniff out the room.

Neville started whimpering and Hermione and Ron hushed him quickly. All thoughts of running to
Filch flew from Hermione's mind; that was an *extremely* stupid idea - Filch wouldn't
care if she had been trying to stop them, all he cared about was that there were first years out of
bed. Harry waved madly at the others to follow him as he scurried silently towards the door away
from Filch. They had just made it around the corner when they heard Filch enter the room they were
just in.

Harry looked terrified as he led them through the long gallery of suits of armour. As they heard
Filch's voice get closer Neville let his nerves get the best of him. He gave a frightened
squeak and broke into a run. Hermione reached out to try and stop him but he had tripped over his
own feet, grabbed onto Ron and the two of them crashed loudly into a suit of armour.

“*RUN!*” Harry screamed, sprinting down the hall. Hermione was right behind him and she
could hear Ron and Neville scrambling behind her. They heard Filch's shouts as Harry led them
through a secret passage way. Hermione couldn't bring herself to look back as they sprinted
down a staircase and through another secret passage.

She couldn't tell how long they were running for or where they ended up, Hermione was only
aware that they had put as much space between Filch and themselves as possible. Harry eventually
stopped running and leaned against a wall, panting, “I think we lost him.” Hermione skidded to a
halt beside him and bent over, clutching the stich in her side as she gasped for breath.

“How did Filch know we were there?” Ron whispered furiously.

“Malfoy tricked you, you realize that.” Hermione pointed out, glaring at Harry and Ron. “He
never intended on duelling with you and tipped off Filch that someone would be there at
midnight.”

Harry pursed his lips and ignored her. “Let's get back to Gryffindor Tower before anything
else happens.”

Hermione couldn't agree more with Harry and started towards the staircase. They hadn't
gone more than ten paces when a streak of silver shot out from an empty classroom and over their
heads.

Peeves the poltergeist was staring down at them, looking as though Christmas had come early this
year.

“What's this?” he squealed delightfully. “Ickle firsties out of bed? Not good, not good.
Should tell Filch, I should.”

“Peeves, please be quiet!” Hermione hissed, her heart thundering. Peeves made a rude gesture
towards them and Ron took a swipe at him, which as a huge mistake.

“STUDENTS OUT OF BED!” Peeves bellowed. Hermione growled at Ron as they ducked under him and ran
to the end of the corridor. “STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!”

Ron reached the door at the end of the corridor first and slammed into it. He pulled the handle,
moaning when he felt resistance. “It's locked! We're done for!”

“*Move over*.” Hermione snarled, pulling her wand out from her bathrobe pocket. She jabbed
Ron roughly in the side, tapped the lock, and whispered, “*Alohomora*!”

The door unlocked itself and Hermione yanked it open so all four of them could enter the room.
Neville and Ron shut the door quickly as they heard Filch come skidding down the corridor. Hermione
let out a breath and clutched her chest as Peeves and Filch started to argue. She turned around to
look at the room and froze.

A very large, very mean looking *three**-**headed* dog took up the space of the
entire room. Their entrance had woken the animal from its slumber and it was now blinking at them,
slowly getting up and towering over them. Neville noticed the animal too and was now pulling
helplessly on Harry's arm.

“Get *off*, Neville!” he snapped, turning around. “What?”

The three-headed dog was now fully awake and started to growl at them. A large trail of saliva
was dripping down the middle dog's mouth. Hermione's eyes followed the huge glob as it
dropped to the floor and she frowned, seeing a wooden trapdoor underneath one large paw. She
didn't have time to say anything about it as she was suddenly yanked out of the room by Harry.
Ron slammed the door just as the dog lunged for them and it locked in place.

All four of them flew up the stairs, not caring how much noise they made nor if they ran into
Filch. Hermione was already running through different explanations she could use for when they were
caught by Filch as they booked it up to the seventh floor. However, for some miraculous reason,
they didn't run into anyone else on the trip up.

The Fat Lady was back in her portrait and looked aghast at seeing four first years out of bed
past midnight. “Where on earth have you all been?”

“Pig snout, pig snout!” Harry panted, ignoring her question. The portrait swung open and they
ran into the common room, Hermione not allowing herself to calm down until the portrait closed shut
behind them. They collapsed into armchairs, trembling and gasping for breath.

“What do they think they're *doing*,” Ron gasped, “keeping a thing like that locked up
in a school.”

“Didn't you see what it was standing on?” Hermione snapped, finally getting her breath
back.

“I'm sorry, I wasn't looking at its feet,” Ron snapped right back. “I was looking at its
heads. In case you didn't notice - *there were three!*”

“It was standing on a *trapdoor*. It's obviously guarding something important,” she
said, getting up. Neville got up and weakly announced that he was going to bed, moving shakily up
the staircase. Hermione put her hands on her hips and glared at the two boys. “I hope you're
pleased with yourselves. You went from one dangerous situation and right into another without any
regard for Neville or me. We all could've been killed - or worse, *expelled*. Now, if you
don't mind I'm going to bed.”

She didn't stay long enough to listen to Ron's retort and she rushed up the stairs. As
quietly as she could, she hurried to the bathroom and splashed water onto her face, trying to calm
herself down. `*Those boys are trouble*,' Hermione thought to herself as she stared into
the mirror. Her bushy brown hair was extremely wild, sticking up all over the place from the work
out she had received. `*That is the* last *time I try and talk them out of
anything.*'

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**End Notes****:** **Guess what chapter is next. >:D**

**Hope y****ou enjoyed!**

**Kelci**

-->



9. Eight: Friends
-----------------



**Chapter Eight**

**“Friends”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit. ALSO, I used some of the text from the**
**Philosopher's Stone** **and that most definitely belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

**Note** **One****:** **Thanks** **to my new beta/editor**
**the_scribbler****! He's a super awesome person!**

**Note Two: This chapter was very hard for me to write. I hate putting Hermione through things
like this.**

**EDITED 06/13/2011: Date changes and minor edits.**

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**13 September, 1991**

Hermione was very surprised when Harry and Ron approached her the following morning. She
stiffened and slung her bag over her shoulder, looking at the two boys coolly. “Can I help
you?”

“Last night,” Harry began, keeping his voice down, “what did you mean that it was obvious the
dog was guarding something?”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Hermione replied airily, stepping around Harry
and out of the common room.

“Hermione,” she heard him groan and chase after her. “Don't you want to know what it's
guarding?”

“No, I don't.” Hermione spun around and glared at the two boys. “That was the corridor
Professor Dumbledore told us was *off limits* - we shouldn't have even gone into that room
in the first place. No, I should've just let Filch catch us and explain that I was trying to
stop you two. It was stupid on my part to let you two go out after curfew anyway. ”

“But if that dog is guarding something it must be something important,” he stressed. “Don't
you want to know?”

“No.”

“Come on, Hermione, where's your sense of adventure?” Ron asked snidely with a roll of his
eyes.

“This is a *school*,” Hermione hissed. “There isn't supposed to be any
*adventure*! A school is a place for learning and books and safety, not having *near death
experiences*!”

With a final glare, Hermione turned on her heel and marched down to the Great Hall, trying to
calm herself down. She made it her goal then and there to avoid Harry and Ron as much as it was
possible. The two of them obviously had no regards for safety or any sense of responsibility and
Hermione didn't want to be around people like *that*.

For the next week, her plan worked with some degree of difficulty. It was easier to ignore Harry
in their lessons because he seemed to be starting to buckle down and do the work. Ron, however,
took more restraint. There was something about the lanky red head that just grated on
Hermione's nerves, every single thing he did seemed to irritate Hermione. Incorrect wand
movements, his lack of caring during History of Magic, not saying spells properly when they
practiced in Charms - it all began to add up.

Fay, Shae, and Parvati noticed how much Ron bothered Hermione and were no help at all. If she
was sitting by either girl during a lesson they would always poke her and whisper, “Look what
Ron's doing.” Hermione couldn't resist looking and nine times out of ten he was doing
something that made Hermione have to bite her tongue.

“Why do you hate Ron so much?” Shae asked one night. She was having trouble with a questionnaire
Professor Binns had given them and asked Hermione for help. Since Hermione had promised she would
help out the next time Shae asked, the two girls were huddled together in the library.

“I can't tell you,” Hermione replied, doing her own homework. “There's just something
about him that makes me want to…” She trailed off and choked the air in front of her, making Shae
laugh. Hermione sighed and fiddled with her quill. “We're just too different. I care about
doing well in all my lessons and Ron…doesn't.” Shae accepted that and went back to her
homework, occasionally asking Hermione if she was doing it right.

There was a snapping sound and Shae suddenly groaned. Hermione looked up and saw that Shae's
quill had snapped in half. “This *always* happens,” Shae moaned, tossing the pieces onto the
table. “Mum *always* insists on buying the cheap quills so there's more money to spend
when we go clothes shopping. I think for my birthday this year I'll just ask for a nice,
expensive set of quills.”

“When is your birthday?” Hermione asked, laughing at Shae's disgruntled expression. She
reached into her bag and pulled out two spare quills, pushing them over to her. “You can have those
two if you want.”

“Thanks,” she smiled sheepishly and took the quills. “My birthday is November 20th.
When is yours?”

“September 19th,” Hermione replied.

“Hermione!” Shae exclaimed, looking horrified. “That was *yesterday*! Why didn't you
say anything?” She reached over and smacked Hermione hard on the arm.

“Ow,” Hermione hissed. “I didn't say anything because I figured it wasn't a big
deal.”

“Wasn't -” Shae cut off, looking disgusted. “Your birthday is *always* important. Did
you at least get something from your parents?”

“Of course I did,” Hermione said. Her parents had sent a special edition copy of *Pride and
Prejudice* and Viola drew a picture of her and Hermione together with witch hats on. “Remember
the package that came for me yesterday?”

“Right,” Shae said, picking up her new quill and beginning to write with it. “But you aren't
allowed to keep anything else from me, got it?”

“Why?” Hermione asked.

“Because friends don't hide things from friends.”

Hermione's eyes widened at Shae's comment. She considered Hermione to be a friend? She
felt warmth spread through her body as she watched Shae try and solve a question. Even though Shae
had been one of the girls who ignored Hermione when she didn't defend Harry during the flying
lesson, the two girls had begun to talk to each other more in the past week. Shae had even told
Lavender off one night when she was being particularly cruel to Hermione.

Shae glanced up and raised an eyebrow at her. “What?”

Hermione shook her head, her throat feeling thick all of a sudden. “You consider me a
friend?”

“Why wouldn't I?” she asked. “You've been helping me out when you don't need to,
you're nice, and… okay, you can be a *little* on the overbearing side but that's just
part of who you are. You consider me a friend too, right?” She added quickly, looking worried.

Hermione swallowed and gave Shae a huge smile. “Yeah, I do.”

“Cool.” Shae grinned widely and went back to work.

At breakfast the next morning, Neville let Shae hold his Remembrall (which Ron had returned to
him) and it immediately turned scarlet as soon as she clutched it. She couldn't remember what
she had forgotten and spent the majority of breakfast forcing everyone to list off possible things
that she could have missed. When Hermione finally mentioned their Transfiguration homework that was
due that day, Shae went white.

“That's due this afternoon!” she shrieked. She practically chucked the Remembrall at Neville
and got up, bolting out of the Great Hall to finish the homework. Hermione didn't usually like
it when people `forgot' to do their homework, but Shae's reaction was so funny she decided
she could let it slide this time and laughed along with the rest of her year.

Owl post arrived minutes later and an excited murmur went throughout the Great Hall. Hermione
looked up and gasped when she saw six screech owls carrying a long thin package into the hall.

“That looks like it's a broom!” Fay whispered as she and the rest of the Gryffindor first
years watched the owls. To their surprise, the owls dropped the package down in front of Harry and
immediately after another owl swooped down with a letter.

Harry grabbed the letter and quickly read it, Ron leaning over his shoulder to read as well.
Within seconds, Harry grabbed the package and scrambled out of the Great Hall with Ron right behind
him. `*You will not go after them',* Hermione told herself as she turned around and went
back to her breakfast. `*You swore you wouldn't meddle in their affairs anymore.'*

Out of the corner of Hermione's eye she saw Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle head out of the Great
Hall, no doubt going to follow Harry and Ron. Hermione shifted in her seat. She knew that the two
Gryffindor boys could never say no to a challenge issued by Malfoy, and she had overheard them
plotting to get revenge on him…

“Leave it,” Fay warned. She *had* to be related to Professor McGonagall somehow because she
had the same uncanny knack of knowing when Harry and Ron were getting in trouble - and when
Hermione was going to make the situation worse. “You were doing so well.”

Hermione was able to stay seated for all of two seconds before bolting up and out the doors,
ignoring Fay calling her name and the other Gryffindor first years laughing at her. She arrived in
the Entrance Hall just as she saw Malfoy shove the package back into Harry's arms. Hermione
steeled herself, ready to go and stop the fight that was about to happen when Professor Flitwick
suddenly appeared behind Harry.

“Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor,” Malfoy said quickly as Hermione crept up
behind them.

“Yes, yes, that's right,” Professor Flitwick said in his trademark high-pitched voice.
“Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is
it?”

Hermione's eyes widened as she watched Harry gloat in front of Malfoy. Professor McGonagall
was the one who sent Harry the broom? He was a *first* year and *first* years weren't
allowed to have brooms! She felt her temper flare up as Harry, once again, was able to bend the
rules and get out unpunished. Malfoy and Professor Flitwick went back into the Great Hall and
Hermione stomped up the stairs after Harry and Ron.

“So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking the rules?” Hermione said angrily.

“I thought you weren't speaking to us?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Yes, don't stop now,” Ron pleaded, “it's doing us *so* much good.”

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to stop her from saying anything and stomped past them,
going to look for Shae.

**<><><>**

**31 October, 1991**

“I have a surprise for you today,” Professor Flitwick squeaked. He was perched on top of his
usual stack of books and looking around at the class proudly. “I figure everyone is about ready to
start working on some real spells. Nice little Halloween treat, don't you think?”

Immediately the class began to buzz as everyone expressed their excitement. Hermione grinned at
Fay and perched herself on the edge of her seat, waiting anxiously for Professor Flitwick to go
on.

“We will be working on *Wingardium Leviosa*, the levitation spell,” he continued, pausing
for a second when another excited buzz went through the class. “I will just pair everyone into
partners and we'll spend the rest of the class working on it!”

Professor Flitwick jumped down from his stack of books and went around, saying who would be
paired with whom. To Hermione's utter dismay she was paired up with Ron. Shae (who was paired
with Fay) winced and shot Hermione a sympathetic look. Fay mouthed `*Stay calm*' as she
passed by the desk to go sit by her partner.

Ron scowled as he moved to the empty desk beside Hermione. “Mind if I go first?” He didn't
wait for her to respond and picked up his wand.

“No, *be my guest*,” Hermione bit out. Ron had managed to perfect the wand movement but was
still mispronouncing the incantation. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek as he repeated the wrong
pronunciation over and over again, both of them getting more frustrated the more he tried.

“Wingardrium Leviosa!” he shouted, swinging his wand around violently. Hermione ducked to avoid
being hit with the stick and glared at Ron, feeling her patience with him snap.

“You're saying it wrong,” she snapped, grabbing his arm before he injured someone. “It's
Win-gar-*dium* Levi-*o*-sa. You're adding an extra letter!”

“You do it then, if you're so clever,” Ron snarled, his ears starting to go red.

Hermione sat up straight and rolled up the sleeves of her robe. “*Wingardium Leviosa!*” she
said softly, flicking her wand. The warmth she had felt back in Mr. Ollivander's shop had
returned and spread through her as the feather lifted up off the desk and flew up into the air.

“Look here!” Professor Flitwick squeaked excitedly. Everyone stopped what they were doing and
turned to stare at Hermione. Ron grumbled and slouched down into his seat. “Miss Granger's done
it! Oh well done, Miss Granger!”

Ron stood up and snatched the feather out of the air. He sat back down with a murderous
expression on his face as he glared at Hermione. Whipping out his wand, he proceeded to ignore
Hermione for the rest of the lesson and fail at making the feather fly.

As soon as the bell rang, Ron bolted out of his seat and over to where Harry was waiting for
him. Hermione gathered up her things as she watched Fay, Shae, Parvati, and Lavender leave for
lunch. She slung her bag over her shoulder and hurried up to leave with the Gryffindor boys.

“*-Wingar-*dium *Leviosa,*” Ron was saying in a high pitched, whiny voice.
“`*You're saying it wrong, Ronald.'*”

Hermione paused, her eyes widening when she realized that Ron was making fun of her. The other
boys chuckled around him as he continued with more bad impressions of Hermione.

“It's no surprise that she doesn't have any *real* friends. No one can stand being
around her for more than five minutes,” Ron went on, oblivious that she was right behind them.
“She's a nightmare, honestly.”

Hermione felt as if she had been slapped in the face. She had *friends*! In the past two
months at Hogwarts, Hermione had made friends with the girls in her dorm (save for Lavender) and
Neville. She wasn't really able to see Sally-Anne outside of lessons but knew that she could
turn to the black-haired girl if she needed to as well. Ron was just jealous that she had showed
him up in front of everyone and was childishly making fun of her because of it.

*`If you really* had *friends, they'd wait for you instead of making you walk to the
Great Hall all* alone*.*' A cold, harsh voice sneered from the back of Hermione's
mind. She ignored it. `*They're leaving you behind, you know. All* you're *good for
is homework help.'*

However much more mature Hermione prided herself in being than the other first years, she was
still just a twelve year old preteen girl and Ron had planted the seeds of doubt. She felt tears
start to form as Ron continued to mock her, her heart clenching painfully as she began to doubt the
friendships she had been so confident in just seconds ago.

She needed to get out of there. Hermione ducked her head down and clutched her bag to her chest
as she rushed through the group of boys, bumping roughly into Harry. A tear escaped and streaked
down her cheek.

“I think she heard you,” Harry said, sounding uncomfortable.

“So?” Ron replied. “She must've noticed she has no friends.”

The dam broke and Hermione let out a sob, breaking out into a run. She ignored the concerned
looks from other students as she hurried into the girl's bathroom. The bathroom was a very
long, narrow room with cubicles on one side and sinks and mirrors on the other. Hermione ignored
her reflection in the mirrors as she sprinted to the end of the room, throwing herself into a
corner. She dropped to her knees and buried her face into her bag as another loud sob ripped from
her throat.

Was Hermione just imagining the friendships? Looking back on it, she couldn't ever remember
any of the girls waiting for *her* before breakfast or after a lesson. *She* had always
been the one to wait. And Neville always came to Hermione whenever he needed help with something,
*never* to just sit and chat. Not once had Sally-Anne suggested they meet up after a lesson
either…

With that heartbreaking realization, Hermione let out a loud wail as fresh tears came.

“*Don't you think you're taking this a* little *too far*?” Lavender's
voice floated around Hermione. “*You're mad.*”

“*Hermione… you* really *need to learn when to keep your mouth shut*.” Fay's voice
floated right after Lavender.

“*…you can be a* little *on the overbearing side*…” Shae followed closely after.

“*And it's really* *none* *of* your *business.*” Harry's voice
intertwined with Shae's.

“*Oh go tell it to a teacher, Hermione*.” Ron's voice was the loudest, repeating all
the mean and underhanded comments he had said to her in the past two months.

Hermione whimpered and clutched at her hair as the little comments continued to swirl around her
brain, tormenting her. She didn't know how long she stayed in that corner, it must have been
hours, but no one entered the bathroom while she was in there. She knew she had missed Defence
Against the Dark Arts and probably would miss the Halloween feast but she couldn't bring
herself to care at the moment.

“Hermione?”

Hermione gasped and her head shot up as Parvati slowly entered the bathroom. She tried to slink
further into the corner (which was covered in shadows now that it was later in the afternoon) but
her scuffling caught Parvati's attention.

“There you are!” Parvati exclaimed, looking relieved. “You weren't in - you're
crying!”

“It's nothing,” Hermione ducked her head and quickly wiped away the tears.

“It's not nothing,” Parvati chided lightly. “We were all looking for you.”

To her dismay, fresh tears formed in Hermione's eyes. She sprang up, brushed past Parvati
and went into a cubicle. “Leave me alone.”

“Hermione!” Parvati exclaimed. She banged on the cubicle door. “Open up!”

“Go away!” Hermione yelled, sitting down on the toilet.

“But -”

“*GO AWAY!*” she screamed.

“Alright then,” Parvati replied after a slight pause, sounding hurt. “I was just concerned. We
all are.”

With that, Parvati exited the bathroom. Hermione hunched over, gripping her hair and now
thoroughly confused. Parvati had said that they were concerned about her, but all the thoughts that
had been swirling around in her head for the past few hours made Hermione believe otherwise. She
was torn, not sure what to believe or what she should do. So, Hermione did what any other twelve
year old girl would do in her situation - cry some more.

Another hour or so later, Hermione figured she was all cried out. She had a massive headache,
her eyes felt puffy, and her nose was tender from blowing it so much. With a big, shuddering
breath, she wiped the last of her tears away and stood up, unlocking the door.

Hermione walked to the sink and turned on the faucet, wincing at her reflection. Her eyes looked
twice as puffy as they felt and her nose could rival a clown's - there was no way she would go
down to the Halloween feast looking like that. She cupped her hands and splashed her face with the
cool water, sighing at how good it felt against her irritated skin. Hermione splashed herself a
couple more times and turned the faucet off, reaching over to grab some paper towels when a
horrible stench hit her. It smelled like someone had soiled themselves and then left it to sit
there for a few hours.

She gagged and quickly wiped her face, turning around to see what the smell was. A loud
shuffling sound was coming from outside of the bathroom and Hermione stood, frozen, waiting. As the
sound got closer, so did the smell and Hermione had to cover her nose to stop from being sick. She
saw a large shadow stop in the doorway and seconds later a hideous, twelve foot tall…
*something* ducked into the girl's bathroom, dragging a menacing wooden club.

Hermione stifled a gasp as it slouched in, recognizing the hideous creature from a picture in
her Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook. The troll hadn't noticed Hermione as it looked
around the bathroom. She slowly crouched down and began to crawl as quietly as she could underneath
the sinks. If she could just sneak by it without being noticed, she could escape.

*SLAM!*

“*No!*”

The scream ripped from Hermione's throat before she could stop herself. Someone had closed
the bathroom door from out in the corridor and she could hear the tell-tale click of the door
locking. Paling, Hermione peeked up from the sinks to stare at the troll. It turned around to look
at the door with a dumb, confused expression and then slowly turned to the sinks. Fear shot through
Hermione as she made eye contact with the troll and started crawling as fast as she could to the
end of the bathroom when she saw the troll raise its club.

The club smashed through the sinks where Hermione had been seconds before. With a terrified
scream, Hermione scrambled to her feet and ran to the back wall. Her bag -and wand - was still in
the corner from where she ran away from Parvati. The troll swung its club again, destroying the
cubicle she had been in and sending debris everyone. Hermione watched in horror as huge chunks of
wood and plumbing covered her bag.

Now trapped, Hermione shrank against the back wall as the troll slowly made its way towards her.
Her knees trembled as it swung its club around, smashing the sinks and cubicles like they were
cardboard. Hermione closed her eyes, fresh tears falling. She was going to die. She had no way out
of the bathroom, no way to protect herself from the troll, and she was going to die.

“Distract it!”

Hermione's eyes shot open. Through the troll's legs she could see Harry and Ron darting
to opposite sides of the bathroom, yelling and chucking the wreckage the troll had caused at it.
The troll seemed confused with all the noise and stopped feet away from Hermione. It turned as
Harry whipped a broken faucet at it and was hit right in the forehead. With a snarl, the troll
raised its club and made for Harry.

“Oy, pea-brain!” Ron yelled from the opposite side of the bathroom. He threw a metal pipe at it
and hit the troll on its shoulder. The troll paused, looking confused, and then turned to snarl at
Ron.

“Come on!” Harry yelled at Hermione, running around the troll. He grabbed on to her arm and
pulled, but Hermione's legs weren't cooperating and she was frozen in place. “Run!
*Run!*”

The troll let out an angry roar and started for Ron. Harry dropped Hermione's arm and ran at
the troll. She let out a weak moan, her knees giving out as Harry leaped and managed to grab hold
around the troll's neck. She couldn't see what happened, but the troll howled with pain and
began to twist and flail its club violently. Hermione's heart stopped and for a terrifying
moment, she feared that Harry would be clubbed as he held on for dear life.

Ron pulled out his own wand and pointed it at the troll. “*Wingardium Leviosa!*” he
shouted. The club flew out of the troll's hand and high up into the air. It dropped and, with a
sickening crack, fell onto the troll's head. It swayed for a moment and then fell flat on its
face, the whole room seeming to tremble from the fall. Harry bounced off the troll's shoulder
from the impact and onto the floor.

“Is it… dead?” Hermione asked, finding her voice. She couldn't find the strength to stand up
so she sat against the wall, trying to calm her thundering heart.

“I don't think so,” Harry panted, shakily getting to his feet. “I think it's just been
knocked out.” He bent down and pulled his wand from the troll's nose. Hermione shuddered and
looked away, realizing that was why the troll had been in pain.

Ron snapped out of his shock and hurried over to Hermione. “Are you okay?” he asked
worriedly.

It was so weird to have Ron speak to Hermione without any snide remarks that Hermione
couldn't respond. She nodded and looked over to the corner where her bag was buried. “My bag-”
she began. Ron looked to where Hermione was pointing and went over, digging through the wreckage to
grab it.

“I am so sorry for locking the door, Hermione,” Harry said, going over to her and helping her to
her feet.

Hermione was about to respond when a sudden slamming and loud footsteps made her jump. Ron, who
had just handed Hermione her bag, looked up as Professor McGonagall came rushing into the room,
followed by Professor Quirrell and Professor Snape. Professor Quirrell took one look at the scene
before him and whimpered, clutching his chest and stumbling back.

“What on *earth* were you thinking?” Professor McGonagall asked, looking furious. Her lips
were so thin that Hermione could barely make them out. To her surprise, she was glaring at Harry
and Ron instead of her. “Why aren't you in your common room?”

Hermione watched as panic spread over Harry and Ron's faces. She also wanted to know why
they had gone looking for her but knew that now wasn't the time. Harry and Ron were going to be
in serious trouble because of her and she couldn't let that happen, even if it *was*
Ron's fault for her being there in the first place. Screwing her eyes shut and drawing a deep
breath, Hermione spoke.

“Please, Professor McGonagall… they were looking for me.”

Professor McGonagall stopped as she was about to go into another rant to stare at Hermione,
surprise clearly on her face. Professor Snape glanced at her with a raised eyebrow and Professor
Quirrell looked faint.

“Miss Granger!” Professor McGonagall gasped. “Explain yourself!”

“I - I went looking for the troll because I t-thought I could deal with it on my own… you know
because I've read all about them,” Hermione quickly made up. She couldn't look anyone in
the eye and stared at the floor. She quickly explained how Harry and Ron had defeated the troll,
hoping to get them out of trouble. “If Harry and Ron hadn't found me I - I'd probably be
dead.”

“Miss Granger,” Professor McGonagall began. Hermione winced at the disappointment in her voice.
“You foolish, *foolish* girl. How could you think of tackling a fully grown mountain troll on
your own!? Ten points from Gryffindor because of your stupidity. Now if you aren't hurt, please
go back to Gryffindor Tower - the other students will be finishing the feast there.”

“Yes, Professor McGonagall.” Hermione quickly glanced at Harry and Ron -both looking at her like
she had grown a second head - and quickly walked out of the bathroom. She was tempted to wait
outside for Harry and Ron but didn't want to risk Professor McGonagall's wrath and headed
up to Gryffindor Tower.

“Hermione!” Three shouts of her name made Hermione start as she walked through the portrait
hole. Shae, Fay, and Parvati were immediately by her and pulled her to a group of armchairs they
had been sitting in.

“What on earth happened?” Shae demanded, taking in Hermione's dirty appearance. She threw
herself at Hermione and hugged her fiercely.

“Parvati told us that she found you in the girl's bathroom on the third floor crying,” Fay
said, looking annoyed and relieved at the same time. “And then everything happened with the troll
and we couldn't find you *anywhere*!”

“Neville told us what Ron had said,” Shae pulled back and forced a plate of food on Hermione.
“We all gave him a what for, let me tell you that!”

“You -” Hermione looked up as she was gently pushed into an armchair. Parvati pushed a goblet of
pumpkin juice into her free hand. “*What*?”

“They all came into the Great Hall at lunch looking uncomfortable, except for that *git*
Ron,” Shae seethed. “All of us knew something was up and we kept asking and asking and asking but
they wouldn't tell us.”

“But when you didn't come down for lunch, we figured it had something to do with Ron,”
Parvati said. “We thought to just let it go for a little bit, you know, just to let you calm down
and join us on your own.”

“When you didn't show up for Defence Against the Dark Arts we got worried. We cornered
Neville after the lesson and forced him to tell us what happened,” Fay said with a mischievous
glint in her eyes. Hermione wasn't sure she wanted to know how they forced Neville to talk.
“Shae and I went to go have a little *chat* with Ron while Parvati and Lavender went to look
for you.”

“Hold on,” Hermione said quickly. She looked around and saw Lavender with two second year girls.
“*Lavender* was looking for me?”

“I know you and Lav don't get along,” Parvati explained, “but she was genuinely concerned
about you. Like I told you before, we *all* were.”

“I can't…” Hermione trailed off, completely touched at her dorm mates' concern. “Thank
you.”

“So what happened?” Fay asked.

The portrait hole opened once again and Harry and Ron came stumbling through. Hermione handed
her plate and goblet to Shae and said she would be right back. Running quickly to them, she stopped
as they looked over to her. There was an awkward silence between the three of them, it was too
crowded for them to have a heart to heart and Hermione knew that the girls were watching her like a
hawk.

“Thanks,” the three of them said at the same time. Harry and Ron scurried off to grab plates and
Hermione went back to the girls.

“Something happened between you three,” Fay observed. “Hurry up and eat and then you're
telling us *everything*.”

**<><><>**

The Gryffindor girls had been shocked when Hermione had told them what all had happened in the
bathroom and furious when she expressed her doubts about their friendship. Fay was so angry that
she threatened to beat Hermione with the Beater's bat she had brought from home if she ever had
thoughts like that again.

“I'll kill Ron!” Shae exclaimed, going as red as her hair.

“That was just Ron trying to get to you,” Fay reassured, looking peeved. “We never knew if you
were going to the Great Hall or library so we didn't wait for you - that was our bad for not
asking. But we still consider you our friend.”

“Right,” Parvati nodded. She glanced at Lavender. “Lav?”

Lavender, who was casually reading a magazine on her bed, looked up. “Hermione,” she sighed,
“while I don't really consider you a friend, that doesn't mean I want you to get hurt.” She
glanced at Parvati as if to say `*There, happy?*' and went back to her magazine. Hermione
realized that was the nicest thing she was going to get out of Lavender and nodded.

The girls spent the rest of the night helping come up with a way for Hermione to talk to Harry
and Ron before they eventually fell asleep. The next day was Friday so they only had to deal with
Potions and then the rest of the day was free.

“Go for it,” Fay muttered as soon as the bell rang the next day. Like always, Harry and Ron were
the first out of the dungeon. Hermione quickly shoved everything into her bag and sprinted off
after them.

“Harry! Ron!” she called, pushing through the crowd of third years heading outside to Herbology.
“Wait!”

Harry and Ron stopped near the staircase as Hermione made her way over to them. “What is it?”
Harry asked.

“Can we talk?” Hermione blurted out. “About - about last night?”

“Um, yeah,” Ron agreed, glancing at Harry who nodded. “Common room?”

The three began to walk slowly up to Gryffindor Tower, in no hurry to get there. “Thank you,”
Hermione said hurriedly. “I know I said thanks last night, but I really owe my life to you
two.”

“I'm glad we got there in time,” Harry replied. “I didn't think anyone would be in the
bathroom when I locked the door.”

“You thought everyone was at the feast,” she shook her head.

“Everyone was being led to their common rooms, actually,” Ron piped up. “Quirrell came running
into the Great Hall during the feast screaming that there was a troll in the dungeon and everyone
freaked out. Dumbledore had to use his wand to make everyone calm down.”

Hermione frowned, “The dungeon? How did the troll get from the dungeon to the third floor so
quickly?”

“The thing almost *killed* you and you're wondering how it moved so fast?” Ron asked
incredulously. “I don't think it should matter that much to you since you're
*alive*.”

“I just find it odd that Professor Quirrell would make such a large mistake,” Hermione said
defensively. She sighed; they were going back to how they used to be.

“Anyway,” Harry interrupted, “we heard from Parvati that you were in the bathroom and knew you
didn't know about the troll. So we went to find you.”

Ron shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, about that,” he stuttered, going red. “Sorry.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. She knew she shouldn't give him a hard time but wanted to make
him squirm a bit. Ron had *really* hurt her feelings. “Sorry about *what*?”

“About … you know, what I said yesterday,” he mumbled, looking extremely uncomfortable. Harry
nudged him roughly and shot him a glare. “And how I've been treating you since the start of the
term.”

“Me too,” Harry added.

“Shae and Fay put you up to this,” Hermione stated, trying not to grin as both boys went bright
red.

“W-well, they may have *mentioned* something,” Ron stumbled. “But we were going to
apologize, honest! Right, Harry?”

“Right,” Harry nodded fervently. “Hermione… listen, I didn't exactly have the best childhood
and, well, yesterday I realized I had been treating you like how *I* had been treated. I
really am sorry.” He hung his head down in shame, his face burning. Ron was equally as red and
looked like he regretted everything.

“Okay,” Hermione nodded, hurrying in front of them and turning to face them.

“Okay?” They both stopped and looked at Hermione in confusion.

“I don't like being mad,” Hermione explained. “And I - I shouldn't have been so bossy
towards either of you. So how about we forget about everything that happened and start over?” She
held both of her hands and grinned. “I'm Hermione Granger.”

Harry grinned and grasped her right hand, “I'm Harry Potter.”

“Ron Weasley,” Ron reached out and grabbed her left hand, a cheeky smile surfacing.

That was the day Hermione, Harry, and Ron had become known as the `*Golden Trio*.'
Hermione and Ron still had their little spats - that was inevitable - and Harry and Ron were
sometimes overwhelmed with Hermione, but at the end of the day they were still the best of friends.
They stuck together through thick and thin, stood up for one another, and Harry and Ron were
eternally grateful that Hermione was there to go over their Potions essays and catch their mistakes
that Professor Snape was sure to fail them for.

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{****}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**End Note:** **Phew, they're friends -** **finally!** **If my calculations are
correct, we are a little bit over the halfway point of finishing Hermione's first year! Yay! I
love PS but I can't wait until they become teenagers and the hormones start to attack.**

**See ya next week!**

**Kelci**

-->



10. Nine: Quidditch!
--------------------



**Chapter Nine**

**“Quidditch!”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit. ALSO, I used some of the text from the**
**Philosopher's Stone** **and that most definitely belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

**Note One: A big thanks to the_scribbler for being my awesomesauce beta/editor!**

**Note Two: I want to thank every single one of you who has reviewed this story so far. It
really means a lot to me that you've taken the time to send a review, even if it was just
“Great chapter!” So… thank yo****u!! You guys keep me motivated.**

**Note Three (IMPORTANT!!): There will be** **NO** **chapter next Thursday! A lot of my
extracurricular activities are merging together this month and I simply don't have the spare
time. This means, unfortunately, that Her Story has to be put on the back burner for a couple of
weeks. Sorry guys!**

**EDITED 06/13/2011: Some dates changed and minor edits.**

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**5** **November****,** **1991**

November arrived in full force and Hermione found herself busier than ever. The teachers seemed
to think the first years had had enough time to settle into life at Hogwarts and became relentless,
giving them mounds of homework each lesson. Hermione couldn't believe that she was actually
finding *herself* struggling a tiny bit. She still was able to finish her homework as soon as
it was assigned, but she had so much to do that she wasn't able to find the time rewrite the
notes from her lessons. She was also spending a lot of time with Harry and Ron in the past few days
and that was taking up precious revision time as well, but Hermione didn't find herself caring
all too much about that.

Harry was having a harder time than Hermione. He had told her that Professor McGonagall had put
him on the Gryffindor Quidditch team (Hermione nearly had a heart attack at this, everyone knew
that first years weren't allowed to play Quidditch!) and had to practice in secret.
Unfortunately, Ron accidentally let it slip one night while Harry was at practice that he was the
new Seeker. By the end of the next day, *everyone* knew who Gryffindor's new Seeker was.
Poor Harry was already stressed out about his first ever Quidditch match and, now that people were
going up to him to either wish him luck or pray he didn't fall off his broom *too* soon
into the match, his anxiety was mounting. All that added pressure *plus* the copious amount of
homework he was getting was making him a little high strung.

As Harry's first Quidditch match neared, Hermione found herself doing little things to help
make the homework a little easier for him. Professor Binns and a few other teachers had started to
assign many chapters to read weekly and Hermione had taken it upon herself to reread the chapters
and write up a synopsis for Harry. She knew with Harry's vigorous Quidditch schedule (the team
captain Oliver Wood was relentless, making them do last minute practices almost nightly now) he
would never have the time to read all the chapters, much less study from them.

Hermione decided to write up the notes in secret, she knew that Ron would try and con her into
doing the same for him - he already managed to convince her to look over his homework when she had
offered to do it for Harry. She didn't mind doing it since it showed that Ron was starting to
get serious about school, but asking for her to write out extra notes for him would be drawing the
line.

Currently, Hermione was in the empty common room finishing up the last note for their History of
Magic exam on Monday. She had decided to give the notes to Harry when he returned from Quidditch
practice that night but didn't think that they would be out this late. Her eyes itched from
tiredness and she rubbed them, yawning loudly. Raising her arms over her head Hermione stretched,
groaning, and allowed herself to rest her head on her textbook.

Hermione woke to someone nudging her gently. Her eyes shot open and she sat up, looking around
in surprise - she didn't remember falling asleep. Harry was standing beside her, looking
exhausted and frozen to the bone but he had an amused smile when she turned to look at him. “What
are you doing?” he asked.

“I, um,” Hermione cleared her throat and began to gather the pages of notes together. “I wanted
to give these to you.”

“What are they?” Harry asked, sitting in the chair beside her. She handed him the notes and he
flipped through them, looking confused.

“You've been really busy lately and I know you don't have the time to do the required
reading we keep getting assigned,” Hermione said quickly, feeling her face start to heat up. She
didn't know why she was getting embarrassed. “So I wrote those for you. If you read them,
you'll do fine.”

“Wow, Hermione,” Harry whispered, looking up at her. “This is… *thank you*.”

“You're welcome, Harry. Just don't tell Ron,” she added quickly. “I don't have
anything against him but I know he'll start to bug me about me doing the same for him and
-”

“It'll be our secret,” Harry interrupted, winking at her.

“Thank you,” Hermione sighed. She glanced at Harry, frowning. He had stopped shaking but still
looked like he had a chill. “How was practice?”

He shrugged. “Aside from the weather and Oliver obsessing over every possible play Slytherin
might do against us? Good.”

“That sounds… pleasant,” Hermione winced. “He isn't pushing you too hard is he? If he is, we
can always go to Professor McGonagall.”

“Its fine,” Harry shook his head with a small grin. “I really do love it and this match means a
*lot* to Oliver…” He trailed off. Licking his lips, he looked sheepishly at Hermione, “Can I
tell you a secret?”

“Of course,” Hermione nodded immediately, leaning forward.

“I'm terrified for Saturday,” he confessed quietly, looking guilty. “Oliver and the others
keep saying I have this skill, but what if I'm complete rubbish when it really matters?”

“Harry,” she sighed, wanting to comfort him. He looked so sad and alone at that moment. “You
won't be rubbish. Even though you were breaking about a dozen rules when you followed Malfoy
during the flying lesson, it was clear to *everyone* that you had a natural talent.”

She watched, amused, as Harry's cheeks began to redden and he shifted. “Thanks,
Hermione.”

A sudden idea hit her. She smiled, “Wait here, I have something for you.”

She got up from the chair and ran up the stairs, quietly opening the door and entering the
dormitory. The soft, feminine snores of her dorm mates greeted her as she padded to her trunk. She
opened it and grabbed the large book, closing her trunk and exiting the room. She felt anxious
about giving him a library book that was in her name but knew that it would help calm Harry's
nerves. She returned to the common room and handed Harry the book.

“*Quidditch through the Ages*?” he read, looking at the cover.

“I took it out of the library for some help when I found out we'd be having flying lessons,”
Hermione explained. “I figure you need it more than I do right now. It has a lot of great
information about the history, rules, fouls, and even has game-play tips during matches.”

“This is brilliant,” Harry breathed, opening the book and flipping through it.

“Just don't go losing it,” she said seriously. “I'm on good terms with Madam Pince and I
don't want to change that.”

“I'll take good care of it,” he promised, grinning at Hermione.

“I know you will,” she replied, yawning. “Anyway, I think it's time for bed. I'll see
you in the morning, Harry.”

“Good night, Hermione,” Harry said. Hermione expected him to get up as well and was surprised
when he leaned back into his seat and started to read. Shaking her head, she made her way up the
stairs.

**<><><><><>**

**6 November, 1991**

Hermione narrowed her eyes, frustrated at the board in front of her. Ron was grinning at her
from across the table as he waited for her to make a move. After a few minutes, she directed a
knight to an empty square only to have it squeak an insult at her. Ron's grin grew wider as his
pawn body slammed the knight Hermione had just instructed to move and it smashed into little white
pieces.

“This game is barbaric,” Hermione grumbled, crossing her arms.

“You're just saying that because you suck at it,” Ron grinned. “It's your go so stop
stalling.”

“I don't know why you insisted on playing *me*,” Hermione said, instructing a pawn to
move. “These pieces don't even listen to me!”

“That's because you-”

“Don't you dare finish that sentence,” Hermione warned. Ron chuckled as his own pawn smashed
Hermione's. She groaned and flopped back into her chair. “You win, I give up.”

“Come on, Hermione,” Ron coaxed.

“Are you two finished?” Fay asked, coming up to the table. Shae and Dean followed behind
her.

“Yes, we are,” Hermione said quickly before Ron could say anything. “What do you need?”

“We have an idea,” Shae began, smiling brightly, “and would like you two to be in on it.”

“What kind of idea?” Ron asked.

“For Harry's Quidditch match,” Fay said, sitting on the arm of Ron's armchair. “He's
been stressing and worrying for the past week and we want to do something to calm him down.”

Hermione grinned and looked towards Ron, who was also grinning. “We're in,” Ron announced,
clearing the chess board.

“What did you have in mind?” Hermione asked.

“We can't think of anything,” Fay shrugged. She nodded towards where some sofas and
armchairs were unoccupied and got up, leading the rest of them over. “We were thinking you could
help come up with something.”

“It should be something that Harry can see during the match,” Hermione said, recalling
Harry's confession to her last night, “something that'll give him a boost of
confidence.”

“Like a banner?” Dean asked.

“I like that!” Shae nodded. “And it can say something like… Potter for President!” Hermione
snorted and rolled her eyes; Shae was always coming up with silly little sayings like that.

“He'd get a kick out of that,” Ron laughed.

“What will it be on?” Fay asked, grinning.

“I have a white bed sheet Scabbers chewed through,” Ron suggested. “It'd be big enough for
Harry to see it while he's playing.”

In the end they decided that Dean, who announced he was good at drawing, would draw the
Gryffindor lion underneath *Potter for President*. Hermione wanted to be a part of making the
banner so she told everyone about a charm she knew to bewitch the slogan to make it flash between
red and gold.

Ron and Dean got up and hurried to the boy's dormitory to grab the ruined sheet and
Dean's art supplies he'd brought from home. They returned after a few moments and helped
everyone clear a space so the sheet could be spread out on the floor. Hermione used a severing
charm she had read about to get rid of the corner where Scabbers had destroyed the bed sheet as
Dean laid out his supplies on the floor, staring at his canvas.

“Don't worry about messing up,” Hermione said, watching as he dipped a thick brush into some
black ink. “I know a spell that can erase ink.”

“Thanks Hermione,” Dean grinned up at her and then started writing `P' in an elaborate
font.

Dean turned out to be an extremely good artist, surprising everyone by finishing his drawing of
a lion (which looked amazing) in just under an hour and a half. They agreed to bring the banner up
to the girl's dormitory to dry - Harry would see it if they left it in the boy's and it was
also at risk from Ron's rat.

The rest of the week flew by quickly and it was soon the Friday night before the big match. The
banner for Harry now twinkled red and gold merrily and was stored in Hermione's trunk for safe
keeping.

Harry sat in his armchair, fidgeting uncomfortably as he tried to watch Ron and Seamus play
wizard's chess. Hermione could tell that he was a nervous wreck, continuously running a hand
through his ebony hair so much that his usual unruly style looked completely wild. She knew he was
itching to read *Quidditch through the Ages* but Professor Snape had confiscated it earlier
that day when they went outside during lunch (Hermione tried to ignore the clench in her stomach
when she replayed what had happened in her head).

“I can't take this,” Harry mumbled, standing up. “I'm going to go ask Snape for my book
back.”

“Good luck with that,” Ron snorted, studying the chess board. Seamus was apparently a tough
opponent.

“You better get that book back,” Hermione said, shaking her head. Her gut twisted painfully at
the thought of having to go to Madam Pince and telling her a teacher had confiscated a book.

Harry nodded and, with a grim expression, walked out of the common room. To keep her mind off of
Harry getting the book back, Hermione pulled out a piece of parchment and began to write a letter
back home.

`*Daddy, Mum, and Vi,*

*How are you all? I'm so sorry I haven't been writing as much as I said I would, our
teachers are really piling on the homework. But we're learning a lot of really neat things to
make up for it! After Wingardium Leviosa, Professor Flitwick showed us the Incendio spell! It's
a really cool spell that sets things on fire. We're working on the wrist movement for that but
I'm a little nervous for when we actually learn how to do the spell… I know some of the
students will release their inner Pyro! Luckily Professor Flitwick said he'll be teaching us
the counter spell for it next.*

*Harry's first Quidditch match is tomorrow, so expect another letter soon telling you all
about it. I've read a lot about the game but I expect the real thing is much more. I'm also
a little scared; I don't want anybody to get hurt tomorrow - even the Slytherins. They fly*
really *high and if they fall… I'd rather not think about that… changing the subject
now.*

*I can't believe Christmas is just over a month away! It feels like the term just started
but at the same time it feels like I haven't seen you in forever! Ron and Harry are staying at
Hogwarts for Christmas and asked if I would be too but I declined. There's absolutely*
nothing *that will keep me from coming home. I expect we'll be having family over for the
holidays so I'll have to work on some sort of story to tell them. I know I don't want
Claire finding out I'm a witch - more things for her to tease me with.*

*Oh, when you pick me up from Kings Cross can we go to Diagon Alley? I want to get Christmas
presents for my friends and there's nowhere for me to get them here at Hogwarts.*

*I love and miss you all**,*

*Hermione.*'

Hermione looked over her letter, trying to think if there was anything else she should add when
the portrait swung open and Harry came flying into the common room. Hermione dropped her letter
once she saw his expression and jumped up from her seat. “Snape didn't refuse to give the book
back, did he?” she fretted, going over to him.

“Never mind that,” Harry said quickly. Ron noticed Harry's expression and excused himself
from the game with Seamus. Harry led them to a corner and glanced around the room.

“What happened?” Ron asked.

“Snape tried to get past that three headed dog,” Harry whispered.

“*What?*” Hermione and Ron both gasped.

“Remember how we saw him limping earlier today?” Harry asked. They nodded. “I went to the staff
room to ask Snape for the book back but he wouldn't answer the door. So I decided to just go
into the room and get it back,” Hermione opened her mouth to scold Harry for entering the staff
lounge without permission but Ron shushed her, “but I didn't even get the door open halfway
when I heard Filch and Snape talking.”

“What's that got to do with his limp?” Ron asked.

“They were talking while Filch was *bandaging Snape's leg*. It was all bloody and
mangled!” The more Harry explained what he had seen, the lower his voice went. Hermione and Ron had
to lean in to hear him clearly. “His exact words were `how are you supposed to keep your eyes on
*all three heads at once*!'”

“That's why we saw him heading away from the dungeons on Halloween,” Ron said, his eyes
widening.

“Snape wants whatever that dog is guarding,” Harry nodded.

“Hold on,” Hermione said. They had told her earlier that they saw Snape sneaking away when all
the teachers were supposed to go deal with the troll. “I know that Snape isn't the nicest
person around, but for him to try and steal whatever it is Dumbledore wants kept safe?”

“You think all teachers are saints, Hermione,” Ron said with a roll of his eyes. “I'm with
Harry on this one.”

“But *why* would he want to steal it?” she challenged.

“I don't know, but I wouldn't put it past Snape.”

“Ron-”

“Hermione,” Ron said, sounding exasperated, “Snape bullies everyone *but* Slytherin and
it's no secret that he's bitter towards Dumbledore because he keeps getting denied the
Defence Against the Dark Arts position.”

“If anything, Snape has all the right motives to steal from Dumbledore,” Harry stated, agreeing
with Ron. “And I'll bet my broom that it was Snape who let the troll in on Halloween as a
diversion!” Hermione sighed and shook her head, knowing it was no use. She knew that once they had
decided on something, Harry and Ron wouldn't listen to a thing she said.

**<><><><><>**

**9 November, 1991**

After breakfast the next day, Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the first-years made their way down
to the Quidditch pitch for the first match of the season. Ron had grabbed the banner and wrapped it
around his neck, wearing it like a cape and proudly marching in front of the group. His display
seemed to excite the other students, and they started cheering and whooping as they made their way
down. This spurred Ron on more and he suddenly took off running towards the pitch, yelling,
jumping, and whooping as the banner fluttered madly behind him.

“Ron!” Hermione yelled, laughing. The excitement was rubbing off on her as well and she took off
after him, laughing and cheering with the rest of her group as they ran with her. She was excited
about the Quidditch match, there was no denying it. It was definitely a dangerous sport but, as Fay
had pointed out to her, there would be teachers in the stands watching to make sure nothing serious
happened to the players.

Hermione could see Sally-Anne walking with another Hufflepuff ahead of her. She grinned and ran
faster to catch up with them, “Sally-Anne!”

Sally-Anne jumped and turned, her face going blank when she saw Hermione. “Hi, Hermione,” she
said dully.

“What's wrong?” Hermione asked, not liking the way her friend was staring at her.

“Nothing,” she replied. Sally-Anne grabbed her friend and turned away from Hermione, walking
down to the pitch.

Hermione stood there and watched, confused, as the two Hufflepuffs walked down to the stadium.
She had never seen Sally-Anne act that way before.

“Come on, Hermione!” Fay squealed, grabbing her arm as she ran past her. Hermione forced herself
to forget about Sally-Anne's attitude as she chased after the brunette. This was Harry's
big day and she was going to be there for him one hundred percent.

Panting from their run, the first years made their way up to the top row and began to set up.
Ron untied his cape and handed it to Seamus and Fay. The two of them wanted to be the ones to hold
the banner first when the game started. Hermione didn't mind, she'd be too busy cheering on
Gryffindor to want to hold the banner anyway.

Slytherin arrived and sat across the stadium on the other side. Once they had settled, the
energy in the stadium intensified. Everyone was yelling and supporting the team of their choice
(Gryffindor being shouted a lot louder than Slytherin) and the older students were cursing and
yelling insults at each other.

“Attention ladies and gentlemen!” A hush fell over the crowd instantly as the Weasley twins'
friend Lee Jordan got on the loud speaker. “Welcome to the first Quidditch match of the season -
Gryffindor versus Slytherin!” The noise that came from the stadium was thunderous and Lee had to
wait a moment until he was able to be heard again. “Let's get this match started!
Introducing…”

Lee introduced the Slytherin team first (inciting boo's from the Gryffindor side) and then
started on the Gryffindor team. Hermione screamed and jumped with everyone when Harry was
introduced as the new Seeker. Seamus and Fay jumped up and down, waving the banner wildly as the
Gryffindor team flew by them. The teams flew around the stadium once and then hovered near the
ground in the middle of the pitch. Madam Hooch walked up to the pitch with a maroon coloured ball
(Hermione remembered reading that it was called a Quaffle) in one hand and her broom in the other.
Hermione was too far away to see what she was doing but a whistle blew and the Quaffle was tossed
up into the air. There was a loud crack and two black balls came whizzing at the players from
opposite sides of the pitch.

For a moment, all Hermione could make out was the blur of scarlet and green as the players got
into position. Gryffindor was in position of the Quaffle and the Chasers were making their way over
to the Slytherin goal posts which were on the other side of the pitch. Since they were too far away
for Hermione to see clearly, she looked up to see Harry circling the field from above the rest of
the players, keeping out of the way and staying alert.

The game went on for a while with Gryffindor leading thirty to nothing when a large figure
loomed over the first years. “Budge up there, move along.”

“Hagrid!” Ron squeezed into Hermione to make room as Hagrid took a seat beside him. Hermione had
only met the friendly giant a couple of times but from what she knew of him, she liked.

“How are you, Hagrid?” Hermione asked.

“I'm good. Bin watchin' from me hut, but it ain't the same as bein' up in the
stands.” Hagrid smiled and patted the pair of binoculars that was resting around his neck. “Any
sign of the Snitch?”

“Not yet,” Ron shook his head. Hagrid grabbed his binoculars and looked through them.

Hermione's stomach gave a nervous lurch when Harry suddenly went into a nose dive - he had
seen the Snitch. Everyone began to cheer and scream as the Slytherin Seeker came up beside Harry,
the two of them neck and neck as they raced across the pitch.

“Come on, Harry!” Fay screeched, dropping the banner and gripping onto Hermione's arm
tightly. Harry's broom was slightly in the lead and he was just reaching out to grasp the
Snitch when the Slytherin captain blocked Harry's broom with his own. Hermione screamed as
Harry was sent careening off in a different direction, almost slipping from his broom.

“*FOUL!*” Fay bellowed, her eyes blazing.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle and could be heard yelling angrily at the captain. She allowed
Gryffindor a free shot with the Quaffle but the Snitch had disappeared.

“Trust Slytherin to try something like that,” Ron growled angrily. Shae nodded in agreement.

With the Snitch nowhere in sight, all focus returned to the Chasers trying to score points.
Hermione had to look away when one of the Weasley twins (she had enough trouble distinguishing them
when she was face to face with them so there was no way she could figure out who it was) hit the
black ball called a Bludger at the Slytherin captain and got him right in the nose. She had a
feeling that it was revenge for what he had done to Harry.

“What's wrong with Harry's broom?” Dean said suddenly, pointing up.

Everyone looked up to see Harry being jerked around roughly on his broom. “Was his broom damaged
from being hit?” Shae asked.

Hermione shook her head, her hands covering her mouth as the broom's movements got more and
more violent. She quickly grabbed the binoculars from Hagrid's grip and looked through them,
ignoring Ron and Fay asking what she was doing. She scanned the crowd with them, trying to find
someone with their wand out; she *positive* someone was charming Harry's broom. As she
passed over where the teachers were sitting, Hermione felt her stomach turn to ice and she gasped.
Once Professor Quirrell shifted out of the way, she could see Professor Snape staring up at Harry,
muttering constantly under his breath.

“Ron!” she moaned, shoving the binoculars at him. “It's Snape!”

“What are we going to do?” Ron hissed, going white. Hermione looked up in time to see
Harry's broom buck violently. Harry was vaulted over and clung on to his broom, struggling to
get his legs wrapped around it. The Weasley twins were circling beneath him, clearly ready to catch
him if he fell.

“Leave it to me,” Hermione said. She shoved past Ron and Hagrid and hurried down the steps. When
she hit the corridor she sprinted around to the other side of the stadium where she had seen
Professor Snape sitting. There was a door that led to the stairs going up to the stand and then a
narrow passage way to get behind them. Grabbing her wand, she clutched it between her teeth and
started crawling through the passage way. If she could climb up to where Professor Snape was
sitting, she would be able to stop him.

Hermione ducked underneath a wooden beam and grinned when she saw the bottom of Professor
Snape's robes. Taking her wand, she pointed it at the hem of his robes and whispered,
“*Inflamarae lacarnum*.” Blue flames shot out from her wand and onto Professor Snape's
robes, catching them on fire. Hermione crawled back out to the corridor as she heard Professor
Snape yelp and a commotion broke out above in the stands.

Hermione scrambled to her feet and ran to the doorway, looking up. She saw Harry regain control
of his broom, swing his legs up to sit back on it, and take off towards the ground. As he got
closer to the ground, his eyes widened and he clapped his hand over his mouth. He fell off his
broom about two feet from the ground, rolled a couple of times, and got shakily onto all fours.
Harry heaved, coughed, and suddenly raised the Snitch into the air, shouting.

“Harry,” Hermione moaned, collapsing onto the ground. She shook her head as the rest of the
Gryffindor team swooped down around him and Lee was yelling that Gryffindor had won one hundred and
eighty points to sixty, her heart fluttering madly.

Hagrid invited Hermione, Harry, and Ron for tea at his hut after Harry had gotten himself
cleaned up. Hermione could still feel herself shaking as they slowly walked down to Hagrid's
hut, her mind reeling at the fact that a teacher would attack a student.

“It was Snape,” Ron told Harry immediately. “Hermione and I saw him cursing your broom.”

“Rubbish,” Hagrid scoffed. “Why would Snape do a thin' like that?”

“Because he hates Harry?” Ron suggested, rolling his eyes. “And he knows that Harry knows he
tried to get past that three headed dog on Halloween.” Ron froze, his eyes widening as Harry and
Hermione whipped their heads around to glare at him.

“How d'you know abou' Fluffy?” Hagrid asked warily.

“*Fluffy*?” Harry gaped. “That thing has a name?”

“O'course he has a name,” Hagrid replied, looking slightly insulted. “He's mine after
all.”

“*Where* did you get him?” Hermione asked, looking horrified.

“I got him from a Greek chappie I met down in the pub las' year. I lent him to Dumbledore to
guard the -” Hagrid cut off, realizing what he had said.

“To guard…” Harry coaxed.

“Never yeh mind!” he bristled. “That's top secret and yeh shouldn't even know about
Fluffy.”

“But Snape tried to kill Harry!” Hermione cried, growing frustrated. “I know a jinx when I see
one, Hagrid. I've read all about them. You have to maintain eye contact and Snape *wasn't
blinking*.”

“And I'm tellin' yeh yer wrong!” Hagrid insisted. “I don't know why Harry's
broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try and kill a student! Now listen to me, all three of
yeh - yer meddlin' in things that don't concern yeh. It's dangerous. Forget about that
dog and forget about what it's guardin'. That's between Professor Dumbledore and
Nicolas Flamel -”

“So there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?” Harry said quickly, grinning
victoriously.

Hagrid looked furious with himself and stomped off towards his hut. “Tea's cancelled,” he
called from over his shoulder.

The three of them stood there. “Who is Nicolas Flamel?” Ron asked, turning to Hermione.

“I don't know,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “It sounds familiar, though.”

“Nicolas Flamel, Nicolas Flamel…” Harry repeated to himself, frowning. “I *know* I've
read that name somewhere before.”

“Should we check the library?” Hermione suggested. “Finding out who he is could help us figure
out what Snape is after.”

“I think we should,” Harry said, nodding. “Let me go put away my broom and then we'll head
there.”

**<><><><><>**

**23 December, 1991**

Hermione, Harry, and Ron spent as much time as they could in the library, searching through the
books to find Nicolas Flamel. It was an extremely challenging task, though. Since they had no idea
who he was, they didn't know where to begin so they just started going down random isles and
picking out random books. They couldn't spend much time in the library either, Madam Pince had
been growing suspicious of them when they started arriving almost daily and kept a watchful eye
out. When they were in there for more than two hours she would go to them and demand to know what
they were reading and what class it was for before kicking them out.

Not that they had all the time in the world to search through the library - the teachers were
still piling on homework and that took up most of their evenings. November trickled into December
without any progress on finding out who Nicolas Flamel was. Harry was getting increasingly
frustrated, commenting every time they went to the library that he knew he had read the name
before. Hagrid refused to talk to them about the subject and had taken to walking away from them
when Hermione or Harry would ask for the slightest hint.

Hermione felt disgruntled, pulling out some books to bring home and read during the holiday and
stuffing them in her trunk. She knew she was going to have to do homework throughout the holiday
(which she didn't mind at all) but she had wanted a chance to spend time with her family. But
with no progress on finding out who Flamel was she'd have to spend more time during her holiday
to read. Viola wasn't going to like that *at all*.

“All packed?” Fay asked. All of the girls in the dorm were going home for Christmas and had
their trunks all packed and ready to go.

Hermione shut her trunk and turned to Fay, “Ready.” She grabbed her jacket and went down the
stairs to the common room - their trunks would be taken down to the train for them. Harry and Ron
were lounging on the sofa by the fire, watching the people going home for the holidays leave out
the portrait hole. “Well, I'm off.”

“Have a good holiday,” Harry waved.

“You too,” she replied. “Don't forget to use this time to search for Flamel.”

“We will, Hermione,” Ron replied, rolling his eyes. “But remember this is a *holiday*, you
can't expect us to spend all of our time looking for Flamel.”

“As long as you spend *some* time searching,” Hermione retorted, putting on her jacket.
“Happy Christmas, you two.”

“Happy New Year!” Ron called out to her as she exited the common room. Hermione shook her head
and laughed, joining Fay as she made her way down to the Entrance Hall.

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**End Note:** **Sorry for the short chapter, but you got a cute little Harry and Hermione
scene so that should make up for it.**

**See ya** **in two** **week****s****!**

**Kelci**

-->



11. Ten Interlude: Hyperventilate
---------------------------------



**Ten (****Interlude One****)**

**�Hyperventilate�**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, � 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of
this.****I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit.**

**Note One: A big thanks to the_scribbler for being my awesomesauce beta/editor!**

**Note Two:** **It's pure coincidence that this was ready by Thursday, but here it
is!**

**EDITED 06/13/2011: Date changes.**

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**13 July, 1991**

Lindsay walked down the street towards Just Imagine with a little pip in her step, unable to
keep the excited grin off of her face. She and Karen had *finally* finished reading *Her
Story: 1.1* the previous night after a little over a week of sneaking around the shop after it
was closed. It nearly drove Lindsay mad at how slow they were reading but Karen refused to risk
bringing the journals home with them. No matter how much Lindsay tried to persuade Karen it was
only so they could read them for more than an hour or two at a time, she wouldn't budge. That
led to little mini-arguments between the two girls as they tried to compromise on a set amount of
time they should read for. None of that mattered now, though. All that mattered was that they were
going to open the second journal after Lindsay finished closing the shop up that day.

Lindsay pushed the door to Just Imagine open and skipped in, the bell jingling merrily. Mrs. P
was helping a customer so Lindsay merely waved at her and hurried to the break room, shrugging her
jacket off and getting ready for the shift ahead of her. As much as she loved reading the journals,
the downside to it all was that Lindsay now felt guilty whenever she was around her boss. Mrs. P
had always been so trusting towards Lindsay and Karen and sneaking around when they weren't
supposed to be in the shop made Lindsay feel like they were betraying her trust. The guilt got so
bad sometimes that it almost made Lindsay want to stop reading altogether.

*Almost*, but not quite.

Exhaling loudly, she put her hair up into a high ponytail and glanced around the break room to
make sure that there was no sign her or Karen had been there last night. Satisfied, she left to go
back into the shop and went to clock in as Mrs. P walked back to the counter.

�Good afternoon,� Mrs. P greeted. The customer she was helping thanked her and walked out of the
shop.

�Hey Mrs. P,� Lindsay smiled, forcing the guilt down. �How's it been so far?�

�On and off,� Mrs. P shrugged. She picked up the clipboard that was on the counter and grabbed a
pen from the little cup by the cash register.

�What's that?�

�This is a list of stock we'll be getting in soon,� she replied. She sighed and gave a
little shake of her head. �I hope that what I'm seeing is what I'll actually receive.
I've been having trouble lately getting the right books.�

�R-really?� Lindsay shifted uncomfortably. �What do you mean?�

�Sometimes I'll get boxes of books I've never heard of or sometimes the books I
specifically requested don't show up,� Mrs. P huffed, her eyes flashing with irritation. �I
think I may change providers if it keeps up.�

�I hope that it gets sorted out,� Lindsay replied, leaning on the counter.

It was safe for Lindsay to assume that the box of journals probably showed up because of Just
Imagine's provider mixing things up - that was the logical explanation. But even as Lindsay
thought about that possibility, things didn't match up. Only one journal was in a box when she
found it nearly two weeks ago and the others just appeared on the shelf when she turned away. Plus
there was the fact that they couldn't open any of the journals except for the first one
(Lindsay didn't even know if they'd be able to open *1.2*). She sighed, rubbing her
temples. It was way too much work trying to figure out how they had got there.

�Are you alright, dear?� Mrs. P asked.

�I'm fine,� she replied, straightening up. �Just thinking. So, is there anything specific
that you want me to do today?�

�Just help customers and fill the shelves,� Mrs. P shrugged. She tapped the clipboard with her
pen. �I'll be spending the day trying to figure out how to fix this mess.�

�Yes ma'am!� Lindsay mock saluted and earned an amused grin from the older woman. Since
there were no other customers in the store (the lunch rush had just passed before Lindsay arrived)
she went into the storeroom and grabbed the trolley that was by the compactor. She heaved some
boxes onto it, quickly glanced to make sure the journals were where they had hidden them (which
they were), and pulled the trolley out into the shop and to the sci-fi section.

Lindsay got to work immediately, making sure that there were at least four copies of each series
on the shelf before storing the rest of the books back into the box. She worked for about thirty
minutes straight, her mind straying to the journals and wondering what would happen next. It had
been a few years since she read the *Philosopher's* *Stone* and couldn't remember
what all happened in between the Mirror of Erised and getting past Fluffy. She decided she would
look at her own copy of the book to refresh her memory when another thought hit her - what if they
weren't able to open *Her Story:* *1.2*?

Lindsay glanced at Mrs. P, wondering if she should risk going into the storeroom and seeing if
she could open the journal. Mrs. P hadn't moved from her spot since Lindsay began working, but
instead of going over the paperwork that was clipped to the clipboard she was gazing straight ahead
with a blank expression, her eyes slightly unfocused.

�Mrs. P?� Lindsay called but got no response. �Mrs. P?� she raised her voice slightly and again
got no indication that the older woman had heard her. Frowning, Lindsay walked over to the counter
and waved her hand in front of Mrs. P's face, calling her name multiple times. She was starting
to get a little worried and finally snapped her fingers inches from Mrs. P's nose, �Mrs.
P!�

Mrs. P gasped and gave a violent start, dropping the clipboard onto the counter and jumping
back. She blinked furiously and looked at Lindsay with a confused expression. �What?�

�Don't *do* that,� Lindsay breathed, relief washing over her. �I thought you had a
stroke or something.�

Mrs. P laughed and Lindsay frowned at how forced it sounded. �Sorry, dear,� she apologized,
picking up the clipboard. �I was off in my own little world.�

�I could see that,� Lindsay shook her head, snorting. She went back to her work station and
quickly finished refilling that section, glancing at Mrs. P every now and then to make sure she was
still working. �I'll be right back,� she called to her and grabbed the trolley, pulling it into
the storeroom.

Lindsay put the boxes back where they were supposed to go and hurried over to the corner where
she and Karen had hidden the journals. She quickly pulled all of the boxes they had stacked on top
of the one containing the journals off and opened it up. Shuffling through the box, she pulled out
*1.2* and grasped the string. With a deep breath and a quick glance over her shoulder to make
sure she was alone, Lindsay tugged on the string and her stomach gave a funny jolt as it
unravelled. She swallowed thickly and shoved it back into the box, putting the other boxes on top
of it.

Lindsay exhaled and grabbed more boxes to refill the shelves with, her mind reeling. She could
distinctly remember trying to unravel *1.2* when her and Karen found the journals and
remembered being unable to open it. Her heart fluttered madly and refused to think about what that
could mean. It was ridiculous. Grabbing the trolley, she yanked it back out into the shop and over
to the romance section.

�Hey Mrs. P,� Lindsay said after refilling most of the section, �we're going to need more
copies of *Bedtime Playtime* soon.�

When she got no response, Lindsay looked over to see Mrs. P staring off into nothing again. This
time, however, her eyes were wide and she looked pale and panicked. She quickly went over to her
boss and gently shook her shoulder, calling her name. Mrs. P's reaction was just as violent as
before and she whipped around to face Lindsay, �*What?*�

�Are you okay?� Lindsay asked, recoiling at Mrs. P's tone.

�Yes,� she replied shortly, turning back to her clipboard. Lindsay felt panic spike through her
when she saw tears start to form in Mrs. P's eyes.

�What's wrong?�

�Nothing,� Mrs. P replied in the same snipped tone. She brought a shaky hand up to quickly wipe
her eyes and put the clipboard down onto the counter. �I just need a moment.�

Lindsay watched in shock as Mrs. P hurried around the counter and practically ran to the break
room, completely confused of what had just happened. She wanted to go check on her but the bell
jingled and a large group of teenagers entered the shop. Biting back a groan, Lindsay went over to
go help them.

For the rest of the afternoon, Lindsay had to run the shop herself. Mrs. P didn't leave the
break room for over an hour and, no matter how much Lindsay wanted to go check on her, it was clear
that she wanted to be left alone. Lindsay felt useless as she sat behind the counter, anxiously
tapping her fingernails against the countertop. All the sections had been refilled and the couple
that was in the shop had declined Lindsay's offer to help them.

Finally, Mrs. P exited the break room, striding across the shop with her head held high. �Are
you okay?� Lindsay asked immediately.

�I'm fine,� she replied, giving a small smile. �I'm so sorry for leaving you alone,
Lindsay.�

�Don't even worry about it,� Lindsay interrupted. �I just want to make sure that you're
okay.�

�I am,� Mrs. P nodded.

�If you want, you can leave early,� Lindsay suggested. It was now late in the day and the shop
would be closing within the hour. Karen would be arriving soon too and Lindsay would just make her
help close up the shop.

Mrs. P opened her mouth to decline but then stopped, frowning. She closed her mouth and nodded,
�I think I might.�

�Do you want me to call Mr. Potter?� Lindsay asked as Mrs. P clocked out. �I don't think you
should be driving by yourself.�

�I'm fine,� Mrs. P reassured. She went to the break room and retrieved her purse and jacket.
Lindsay watched as she got ready to leave and said goodbye as she exited the shop.

Karen arrived at the shop twenty minutes later, holding up a bag of Chinese take-away. �You can
pay me back when we get to the next journal,� she grinned, heading into the break room to put the
food away. Lindsay barely registered what Karen had said, still worried over Mrs. P. She should
have told Mrs. P to call the shop as soon as she made it home.

�What's wrong?� Karen asked, coming back out of the break room. Lindsay explained what all
had happened with Mrs. P that day (including that she was able to open the second journal) as she
began to clean up the shop.

�I've never seen Mrs. P act like that,� Lindsay finished. She locked the door to the shop
and began to close down the cash register. �It was kind of scary.�

�I'm sure she's fine,� Karen said, hopping up to sit on the counter. Her expression
showed that she was worried too. �I work with her tomorrow afternoon so I'll keep an eye on
her.�

Lindsay smiled at her and Karen hopped down from the counter, going to the break room to get the
food ready. She told Lindsay that she had brought real food in celebration of them starting the new
journal. Lindsay greatly appreciated it, the two girls had been living off of chips and nutrition
bars for the past week.

As Lindsay was finishing up with the cash register, Karen came running out of the break room and
went to the storeroom. Lindsay raised an eyebrow when the other girl returned, holding the new
journal above her head.

�We eat first,� Lindsay said, laughing as she dimmed the lights. �I haven't had a break all
day.�

�How about you eat and I'll read?� Karen suggested, handing Lindsay a pair of chopsticks
when they entered the break room. �I already ate while setting up.�

�Pig.� Lindsay snorted. She sat down and pulled the chopsticks apart as Karen opened up the
journal.

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**End Note****: I feel guilty for this chapter being so short!** **I'm
** 



12. Eleven: Home for the Holidays
---------------------------------



**“Her Story”**

**Chapter** **Eleven**

**“****Home for the Holidays****”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit.**

**Note One: A big thanks to** **the_scribbler** **for being my awesomesauce
beta/editor!**

**Note Two: I'm sorry for the short chapter last chapter. Most interludes (which will be in
between journals) will be that short. I hope you like this chapter.** **Soo that's why you
get this chapter!** **You'll get to see Vi and Claire again, plus find out what
Sally-Anne's deal is! Enjoy!**

**EDITED 06/13/2011: Just some date changes.**

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**23 December, 1991**

“*Minny!*”

Hermione whipped around as a mass of curly brown hair came hurtling through the crowd towards
her. Hermione let go of her trolley and braced herself as Viola leapt at her, her small arms
circling around her waist. The force from the impact made Hermione stagger and grunt, but she
recovered quickly and drew her little sister into a tight hug, ignoring the amused look she was
receiving from Shae.

“Minny?” Shae grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh I am *so* calling you that from
now on.”

Hermione glared at Shae as she waved goodbye and rolled her trolley over to where a beautiful
redheaded woman was waiting.

“Happy Christmas, Hermione,” Fay laughed before going off to where her family was waiting for
her as well.

“I've missed you so much, Minny!” Viola cried, tightening her arms around Hermione.

“I've missed you too!” Hermione pulled back and took a look at her sister, surprised at how
much she had changed in just four months. Her brown hair was about two inches longer and she had
grown a couple inches as well. “You've grown so much!”

“No I haven't,” Viola scrunched up her nose.

“Yes you have,” Hermione grinned. She glanced up over Viola's head and saw her parents
hurrying towards her. “Mum! Daddy!”

“Hermione!” Mrs. Granger reached her daughter first and yanked her into a tight hug, tears
glistening in her eyes. She pulled back and cupped Hermione's cheeks with her hands. “Look at
how much you've grown!”

“I haven't changed that much,” Hermione replied, laughing once she realized she and Viola
had the exact same conversation seconds ago. She pulled away from her mother and went to Mr.
Granger, throwing her arms around him. “I've missed you so much.”

“We've missed you too,” Mr. Granger said, kissing her on the top of her head.

Since the Hogwarts Express arrived in London just as many of the shops were closing, Mr. and
Mrs. Granger booked a hotel for them to stay at for the night. Hermione only had a day to finish
her Christmas shopping and it would be a waste of time to spend an hour driving to Oxfordshire only
to drive another hour back to London in the morning.

“You have to tell me *everything* that happened at school,” Viola demanded, helping her
mother push Hermione's trolley out of King's Cross station. “Your letters weren't good
enough.”

“Thanks, Vi,” Hermione laughed, shaking her head.

“They were good!” she said quickly. “But letters back and forth take too much time. Why
doesn't Hogwarts have a phone?”

“Electricity doesn't work at Hogwarts,” Hermione replied simply. “Everything starts to
malfunction.”

“But you said that you have alarm clocks,” Viola frowned. “How can the alarm go off if you
can't have electricity?”

“Magic,” Hermione whispered into Viola's ear as their parents put her trunk into the car.
She grinned as Viola made a little squeaking noise; she knew that she shouldn't tease her
little sister like that but it was too tempting to resist.

Viola berated Hermione with questions all the way to the hotel, hardly giving Hermione a chance
to answer before going onto a different question. She laughed and answered them as best as she
could. Hermione didn't realize exactly how much she had missed her sister.

“How come you're friends with Harry and Ron now?” Viola asked suddenly.

“What do you mean?” Hermione glanced at her sister, the question throwing her off. Viola had
been asking questions about the different teachers for the past five minutes (she had just finished
describing Professor Flitwick to her) and her new question caught her off guard.

“In your letters you always complained about Harry and Ron,” Viola explained, looking annoyed
that her momentum was disrupted. “And then you suddenly started writing saying you were friends
with them.”

“I wondered about that too,” Mr. Granger piped up from the front seat.

Hermione paused, not sure what to say. She had been afraid to tell her parents that someone had
let a mountain troll loose at Hogwarts (she was sure her parents would try and withdraw her from
school if they were to find out), so she had just casually mentioned that things had changed and
Harry and Ron were now her friends. “Things happened and we're friends now,” she shrugged.

“But you *hated* Ron!” Viola protested, clearly not satisfied with her answer.

Luckily for Hermione, Mr. Granger pulled into the parking lot of the hotel they were staying at
seconds later. She quickly got out of the car and went to help with her trunk, managing to avoid
answering the question. Mrs. Granger got Viola to carry some bags from her shopping trip earlier in
the day and Viola forgot all about waiting for the answer. The family had been in London for most
of the afternoon and had settled into the hotel room so they walked right through the lobby and to
the elevator.

“Tired sweetheart?” Mrs. Granger asked when Hermione yawned loudly.

“Yes,” she replied, stifling another yawn. “It's weird too because all I've done today
is sit on a train.”

“Traveling can be exhausting,” Mrs. Granger said, putting her arm around Hermione. “Once we get
up to the room you can put your pajamas on and get ready for bed.” Hermione smiled and leaned into
Mrs. Granger. She never thought she would miss her mother telling her to get ready for bed while at
Hogwarts, but she did.

“What about my questions?” Viola asked, nearly dropping the bags.

“You can ask her questions tomorrow,” Mrs. Granger chided lightly.

Viola grumbled but didn't argue as they stepped out of the elevator. Hermione followed her
father down the hall and into the hotel room, fatigue fully hitting her once she stepped through
the threshold. They put her trunk down by the dresser and she opened it, pulling out a pair of
fuzzy pajamas and went into the bathroom to change.

Hermione exited the bathroom and raised her eyebrows when she saw Viola hunched over her trunk,
not touching anything in it, but examining the contents. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were on the bed
closest to the window, flicking through the channels on the television. “What are you doing, Vi?”
Hermione asked, laughing.

“I wasn't touching!” Viola squeaked, dashing away from the trunk. “I just wanted to see if
there was anything witchy in there!”

“Witchy?” Hermione laughed, climbing onto the bed she would be sharing with her sister.

“Yes, witchy!” Viola frowned. “But all I see are books.”

“That's the homework I have to do during the holidays,” Hermione yawned, fluffing her
pillow. “Nothing `witchy' about that.”

“Can I look through your books?” she asked.

“Not tonight, Viola,” Mr. Granger said. He turned off the television and got up to dim the
lights. “It's time for bed.”

Viola pouted but went into her little backpack, pulling out her pyjamas. Hermione snuggled under
her covers, her eyes drooping heavily as Mrs. Granger went into the bathroom to brush her teeth. By
the time Mrs. Granger returned to her bed, Hermione was out cold.

**<><><><><>**

**24 December, 1991**

Viola had been furious when Mrs. Granger announced the next morning that she would be taking
Hermione to Diagon Alley by herself and that they would meet later up for lunch. Hermione felt
sorry for Mr. Granger as Viola proceeded to throw one of the biggest tantrums she had had in a few
years.

“Would it be that bad if we brought Vi to Diagon Alley?” Hermione asked, wincing when she heard
Viola's cries start to escalate as Mrs. Granger pulled her down the hall towards the
elevators.

“Your father and I don't want her to accidentally mention Hogwarts to her friends,” Mrs.
Granger said lightly, pushing the down button. “If she sees what all there is in Diagon Alley
that'll increase the chance of her telling someone.”

“That makes sense,” Hermione nodded. The elevator pinged open and they entered it, Hermione
pressing the button for the main floor. “But it's only nine. We won't be there for three
hours, mum.”

“True,” Mrs. Granger smiled. “But I thought you would want to get Viola's Christmas present
while she wasn't around. I also thought we could go shopping together, just the two of us.”

“Oh, okay!”

Hermione and Mrs. Granger made it to the Leaky Cauldron in no time, Mrs. Granger able to see the
shabby looking pub without Hermione having to reach out and touch the door. The pub was nearly
empty when they entered it. Hermione saw a few disgruntled-looking witches sitting near the bar
eating breakfast, and noticed that a wizard had fallen asleep at his table, but that the bar was
otherwise quiet**.** Tom was nowhere to be seen so Hermione led Mrs. Granger through the pub and
out the backdoor Tom had led her through back in July.

“My wand?” Hermione held out her hand to Mrs. Granger. She reached into her purse and pulled out
the wand and handed it to her. Hermione grabbed it and stared at the brick wall, trying to remember
what brick was supposed to be tapped. After a moment, she stood up on her tippy-toes and tapped a
brick.

Hermione felt a sense of accomplishment wash through her as the brick started to quiver
violently and an archway formed where the brick wall had been. Diagon Alley was decorated in
holiday cheer with wreaths and colourful Christmas lights strung up along the shops. Hermione and
Mrs. Granger stepped through the archway and into the Christmas crowd, looking around at the
shops.

“So,” Mrs. Granger began, sounding lost, “what do you want to get your friends?”

“For Shae, I want to get her a nice quill or something,” Hermione said, trying to look for the
supplies shop. “Her quills are always snapping in half and she keeps borrowing mine. For Fay…
something that involves Quidditch, she's almost as obsessed with the sport as Oliver.”

“That's that game you play on brooms, right?” Mrs. Granger asked.

“Yes it is,” Hermione nodded. “I don't know what to get Harry or Ron… I haven't been
friends with them for very long…”

“That's fine, dear,” Mrs. Granger soothed. “Let's go find Shae and Fay's presents
first and then we'll think of something.”

Hermione found the supplies shop easily enough and entered it, heading over to the quill
section. She frowned, looking at the selection. If she just got Shae a normal quill that
wouldn't be much of Christmas present, she needed the quill to be special.

A witch in bright red robes came up to Hermione from behind the counter, smiling merrily at her.
“Good morning, dear. Can I help you find anything?”

“I'm looking for a present for my friend,” Hermione said. “Her quills are always breaking on
her.”

“Ah,” the witch nodded. “Well we have these fine peacock quills that just came in.” She led
Hermione and Mrs. Granger over to the side and picked up a very extravagant looking quill. The end
looked like a peacock feather and was very flashy.

“I don't think she'd like that,” Hermione said slowly.

The witch next showed Hermione a simple looking quill. “It may look like a normal quill,” the
witch said, handing one to her, “but it's charmed to make the ink change colours randomly.”

Hermione grinned, Shae would love that. “I'll take it!”

“That's a perfect gift,” the witch complimented. She flicked her wand and the quill was
boxed and wrapped automatically. “Do you want us to deliver this present for you?”

“You can do that?” Mrs. Granger asked, sounding both intimidated and impressed.

“Of course!” the witch exclaimed. She grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill and handed it to
Hermione, “Just write down your friend's first and last name - as well as yours - and we'll
see that she gets the present in time for Christmas.”

“How?” Hermione asked, writing down Shae's name.

“Magic, my dear,” the witch explained as if it was the most obvious answer. She took the
parchment and attached it to the present. “Don't worry, your friend won't know what store
this came from.”

Hermione paid for the quill and exited the shop five minutes later, smiling as Mrs. Granger
pressed herself closer to her daughter. The streets were getting more crowded and there were
witches and wizards outside of shops calling people in. A little ways down the street, Hermione
spotted Quality Quidditch Supplies and led her mother over there.

The shop was considerably busier than the last, a lot of people coming in to look at the Nimbus
2000 display. Hermione nudged Mrs. Granger and pointed at the broomstick, “That's the broom
Professor McGonagall sent Harry so he could be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team.”

“O-oh,” Mrs. Granger stammered, her eyes huge as she took in the display. “That's
nice…?”

Hermione laughed and looked around the shop, heading towards the memorabilia section. There were
little figurines of Quidditch stars, models of brooms, the balls, and player cards all spread out
on the shelves. Hermione bit her lip, looking at everything in front of her. She couldn't
remember who Fay had said her favourite Quidditch team was and that made Hermione's task
tremendously more difficult.

“What about this?” Mrs. Granger pointed to a player card from the Chudley Cannons.

“I don't think so,” Hermione said, peering at it as the black haired man waved madly at
her.

At a loss of what to do, Hermione finally picked out a mini-model of the Holyhead Harpies. The
display model showed that all of the players would zoom around the tiny pitch as if they were
playing a real Quidditch match. Hoping that Fay liked that team, she grabbed the box and went to go
pay for it. The wizard at the counter made Hermione sign Fay's name on the present (which had
been wrapped for her) and promised her that she would get it on Christmas morning.

“That was interesting,” Mrs. Granger said slowly once they exited the shop. “They let twelve
year olds play that at Hogwarts?”

“They do,” Hermione nodded. “Flying lessons are horrid too, but we've only had a few classes
because the weather turned so bad.”

“You have to go on a broom?” Mrs. Granger gasped, paling. Hermione winced; she had chosen not to
tell her parents that first years were supposed to take flying lessons because she worried how they
would react to that. She realized that she had been right not to tell them and was regretting
mentioning it immediately. “Hermione, I don't think that's very safe. What if you fall or
something happens and -”

“Mum,” Hermione interrupted. “It's a mandatory lesson, but it's perfectly…safe.” She
looked away, not wanting to tell her mother that Neville had broken his wrist their first lesson.
“Anyway, do you have any idea on what I should get Harry and Ron?”

“I don't know,” Mrs. Granger said, still looking unhappy that Hermione had to go on a
broomstick. “How about some sweets?”

Hermione's head whipped around to stare at her mother. “Sweets?” she said incredulously.
“You've never let me get sweets for Vi or Claire before.”

“Viola doesn't need the extra sugar and Claire… well, she's tough to shop for,” Mrs.
Granger sighed. “From what you've said, you don't know Harry and Ron well enough to get
them personal gifts just yet. Sweets are simple and easy.”

“But you're a dentist,” Hermione laughed.

“Don't tell your father,” she winked.

Hermione found *Sugarplum's Sweets Shop* by the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron and went
in, having to shove her way past customers to get to the section she wanted. It was extremely hot
in the shop and Hermione could feel claustrophobia start to set in. She quickly grabbed a box of
Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans for Ron and Chocolate Frogs for Harry and quickly paid for
them, giving the witch their names so the presents would be delivered.

“Do you think I should get Vi something from Diagon Alley?” Hermione asked as they were about to
head into the Leaky Cauldron.

“I don't think so,” Mrs. Granger said at once. “She's already convinced she'll be
going to Hogwarts when she turns eleven. I don't think she needs any more encouragement.”

“Oh boy,” Hermione groaned as Mrs. Granger led her through the Leaky Cauldron and out into
Muggle London. “Should I get her a book then or something else?”

“She's been talking about wanting to play football a lot,” Mrs. Granger said after a moment.
“Why not get her a ball?”

Hermione nodded and followed her mother down the street. She frowned when they passed their car
and kept on walking. “Where are we going?”

“To get Vi's present,” Mrs. Granger replied. “Then I want to take you somewhere.”

They entered a toy shop and Hermione picked out a light purple football for Viola, having to
wait in line for almost twenty minutes because of last minute shoppers. When they finally paid for
the ball, Mrs. Granger led Hermione further down the street and opened a door for her, ushering her
inside.

Hermione felt her face heat up as soon as she entered the shop, her eyes going wide with horror
as she looked around. “M-mum?” she squeaked.

Mrs. Granger smiled warmly, putting an arm over her shoulder. “I wasn't just talking about
your height when I told you you've grown.”

Mortified, Hermione followed her mother as she led her through the shop. Bras and panties hung
up on racks and displays and Hermione couldn't believe that people would just have their
undergarments hanging up for everyone to see.

“Good morning!” a cheerful looking woman greeted, coming up to them. “Can I help you today?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Granger pulled Hermione to her, “my daughter needs to be fitted for a bra.”

The woman smiled knowingly and gestured for Hermione to follow her to the back of the shop. Mrs.
Granger nudged Hermione and she was led into a change room. After being fitted (Hermione didn't
think her face could get any redder after *that* experience), the woman began to go around the
shop and pick out different bras **-** and the knickers that matched.

“Mum!” Hermione hissed. “Why are you doing this?”

“You're beginning to develop, sweetie,” Mrs. Granger said softly, keeping her voice down so
the woman wouldn't overhear them. “You'll need to start wearing bras and I don't think
Hogwarts has a shop for you to buy some…..and it's time you had some pretty knickers to go
along with them.” She said the last bit with a grin; enjoying every bit of the embarrassment that
was washing across her daughter's face.

“This is not happening,” Hermione moaned, putting her head into her hands.

“You should be proud!” Mrs. Granger laughed. “You're growing up into a woman. Soon
you'll get your first period and -”

“*Mum!*” Hermione hissed, glaring at her. She was positive if she looked in a mirror her
face would be as red as Ron's hair.

The woman returned with a handful of bras and knickers and immediately, Hermione was ushered
into the changing room. She spent a good half hour trying on the different types of bras and was
extremely relieved when they left the shop, although she wasn't too happy about the purchases
that had been made. That had to be one of the most embarrassing experiences she ever had.

**<><><><><>**

**25 December, 1991**

“Minny! Minny wake up!” Hermione groaned, burrowing her head under her pillow as she heard Viola
thunder across the hall. Her door banged open and Viola was suddenly bouncing on Hermione's
bed, jumping painfully onto her legs.

“Viola!” Hermione growled, curling her legs up so that they wouldn't be jumped on.

“Father Christmas was here!” Viola exclaimed, still bouncing. “Come on, Minny!”

Hermione groaned, allowing Viola to pull her out of bed and down to the living room. She
didn't know why Viola was so persistent about going down to the presents; they had to wait for
Uncle Robert, Aunt Mary, and Claire to arrive before opening anything. Mr. and Mrs. Granger were
getting coffee in the kitchen, both looking extremely tired in their housecoats. Viola ran to the
Christmas tree and plugged it in, giggling as the lights lit up the room. She began to root through
the presents underneath the tree, counting under her breath.

“You can't open them,” Hermione reminded, lying down on the sofa.

“I know,” Viola snapped. “I'm counting how many presents Father Christmas left us.”

Hermione yawned and closed her eyes, a soft tapping sound lulling her back to sleep.

“Look!” Viola shouted. Hermione jerked awake and glared at Viola. She was pointing at the window
with wide eyes. “An owl!”

“What?” Hermione looked at the window, her eyes widening when she saw the snowy white owl
fluttering outside. “Hedwig!”

Hermione scrambled up off the sofa and ran to the window, unlocking and opening it. She hissed
as the cold air hit her, stepping aside so Hedwig could enter the room. The owl flew down to the
coffee table and held out her leg expectantly, which had an envelope attached to it. Viola sat on
the floor by the Christmas tree, presents forgotten, and stared at Hedwig with her mouth hanging
open.

Hermione untied the envelope from Hedwig's leg and managed a quick pat on her head before
Hedwig rustled her feathers and flew out through the window. Hermione followed and closed the
window, shivering at the chill that was now in the room.

“What is that?” Viola asked, running up to look at the envelope.

“I don't know,” Hermione said. She went to open the envelope only to have Viola yank it out
of her hands. “Vi!”

“You can't open it!” she scolded, running back to the tree and placing the envelope on top
of a present. “If I can't open my presents you can't open your letter!”

“Vi,” Hermione protested, “it's a letter from Hogwarts. I'm not going to open it in
front of *Claire*.”

The doorbell rang, making Hermione and Viola jump. A few seconds later Claire herself came
running into the room, dressed in an expensive looking red dress. Uncle Robert and Aunt Mary
followed shortly after her, their arms loaded with presents. Viola's eyes went wide and she ran
over to Aunt Mary, taking some of the presents from her and placing them delicately underneath the
tree.

“Guess what we saw!” Claire exclaimed excitedly as Mr. and Mrs. Granger filed into the room.
“There was an owl right outside your house!”

“Was there?” Mr. Granger asked, shooting a nervous glance towards Hermione.

“It was white and beautiful,” Claire gushed. “It passed right by the living room window, you
didn't see it?”

“We didn't see anything,” Viola said quickly, sounding a little too innocent.

“Well *I* saw it and I'll *never* forget it,” Claire said, perching herself
daintily on the sofa. Hermione moved to the other side of the room and sat in the armchair farthest
away from her cousin.

Everyone settled in and Viola made quick work of distributing the presents before tearing into
her own large pile. Hermione immediately grabbed the letter Hedwig delivered and flicked it open.
She smiled when she pulled out two homemade Christmas cards. Her smile grew wider as she opened the
first one up to read.

**`****Happy Christmas, Hermione!**

**Hope your** **holidays are going well, sorry** **I** **didn't have e****nough
time to find you a present so this card will have to do****.** **Anyway, thanks** **again
for all your help** **this year****,** **there's no way** **I could****'ve
survived without you.** **See you when the term starts again,**

**Harry****.****'**

Hermione grinned and reached for Ron's card, giggling at the messy scrawl. While Harry's
writing was neat and slanted, Ron's was rushed and untidy.

**`****Happy Christmas!**

**You're missing out here, Hermione. We've got most of Gryffindor Tower to
ourselves!** **It's wicked!** **So just to warn you, you're probably going to get a
present from my mum. I told her not to****,** **but she never listens.**

**See you when you get back,**

**Ron.****'**

Curious, Hermione dropped the card and ruffled through her presents. Sure enough, near the
bottom was a lumpy parcel addressed to her with `*Mrs. Weasley*' written after her name.
Hermione picked it up first and unwrapped it quickly; eyes widening as she pulled out a
hand-knitted periwinkle blue jumper.

“Who is that from?” Mrs. Granger asked as Hermione pulled the jumper on.

“Ron's mother knitted it for me,” she replied, pulling her hair out from under the collar.
As she moved, a lump of fudge (also homemade) fell from the wrapping and onto the floor. Hermione
picked it up and placed it on the coffee table.

“Fudge!” Viola crowed. “Ron's mum is the best!”

“That's nice of her,” Mr. Granger said, reaching over and rubbing the sleeve of the jumper.
“You'll have to write a thank you note to her.”

“I will,” Hermione replied. The jumper was nice and warm and she cuddled into it, her heart
melting at the thoughtfulness of Mrs. Weasley.

“It's not even a nice jumper,” Claire sniffed, glaring at Hermione.

“Claire,” Aunt Mary warned quickly. “We discussed this.”

Claire rolled her eyes and went back to the large present she was currently unwrapping. Hermione
shook her head and went back to her own large pile of presents. Most of her family got her books
and novels with the exception of Viola. Her little sister messily wrapped a black leather journal
in neon purple paper, placing as many bows on top of it that was possible. Laughing, Hermione
nudged the presents from her family and `Father Christmas' aside and started in on the small
pile from her schoolmates.

Fay's present was up first. She had wrapped a medium sized box in red paper with a glittery
gold bow on top of the package. Hermione grinned and unwrapped it; gasping softly when she
uncovered the box. Inside was a large day planner that automatically catalogued and organized
anything that was written on the pages. Hermione ran her hand down the leather exterior, already
planning what all she would write into it later that night.

Shae's present was last. Hermione could tell immediately that her friend had gotten her a
book and quickly ripped off the wrapping paper. `*1001 Utterly Useless Facts about Magic*'
flashed back up at her in silver lettering and a cartoon picture of a few children reading was
displayed underneath.

Careful to keep the moving cover against her legs and out of sight, Hermione opened up the book
and began to flip through the pages.

`*Useless fact number 685: The invention of the Hair Drying spell was a complete accident!
Gruntilda the Grumpy* *meant to set a young girl's hair on fire for making too much noise
but her wand backfired and instead of singing the poor girl's locks, they were dried and styled
to perfection.*'

Hermione giggled at the insert and watched as the little cartoon drawing of Gruntilda pointed
her wand at a young girl with sopping wet hair. There were airwaves and suddenly the girl's
hair was dried and styled. She began to flip her hair around dramatically while Gruntilda threw a
fit, snapping her wand in half and stomping back into her hut.

“Those pictures are moving!” Claire said suddenly.

Hermione snapped the book shut and clutched it to her chest. “What are you talking about?” she
denied quickly.

“The book had moving pictures in it!” Claire said, getting up. “I saw it!”

“I think it was your mind playing tricks on you,” Mrs. Granger intercepted smoothly, placing a
present into her niece's arms. “Did you see this one? It's from your uncle and me”.

Claire glared at Hermione but sat back down and tore into her present. Hermione let out a
relieved sigh and flopped back in the chair. Mr. Granger caught her eye and gave her a look that
clearly said `get all of the magical presents out of Claire's way.'

Hermione quickly gathered up all the presents she had received and hurried up to her room,
placing them onto her bed. *1001 Utterly Useless Facts about Magic* and the planner were
quickly shoved underneath Hermione's bed. She wouldn't put it past Claire to barge into her
room and snoop around her presents. Once she was satisfied that Claire wouldn't be able to find
them, Hermione put away the rest of the gifts she had received. The bookshelf groaned in protest as
the books were added. Hermione bit her lip and stood back, hoping that the shelf would hold out -
she'd have to ask her parents for a larger book case.

Hermione stayed in her room for a little while longer to make sure the shelf wouldn't
collapse. When she was convinced that it wouldn't give out, she left her room. Claire jumped
out of the bathroom as Hermione closed her door and stood right in her cousin's path. “I know I
saw those pictures moving in that book,” she sneered, crossing her arms.

“You were seeing things,” Hermione replied flatly, pushing past Claire.

“Don't think I haven't forgotten you throwing that book at me!” Claire hissed at
Hermione's retreating back. “And if you think I'll just let it go, you're dead
wrong.”

Hermione ignored her cousin as she walked down the stairs, happy that she had followed her gut
instincts and locked her bedroom door.

**<><><><><>**

**27 December, 1991**

Hermione pulled her coat closer to her and rang the doorbell to the Perks' house, shivering
as the wind blew around her. After a moment, the door creaked open and a man with a trimmed black
beard opened the door. “Hermione!” Mr. Perks greeted, opening the door wider for her. “Come in,
come in!”

“Thanks Mr. Perks,” Hermione said, stepping into the house. “Did you have a good Christmas?”

“I did, thank you,” Mr. Perks replied, shutting the door behind Hermione. “Give me your coat and
I'll hang it up. Sally is upstairs in her room.”

“Thanks,” Hermione smiled and shrugged off her coat, handing it to the older man. She toed off
her winter boots and hurried up the stairs.

“Hey Hermione!” Susan Perks looked up from the black and white kitten she was playing with in
the hall and grinned at her. She looked identical to Sally-Anne but instead of the long hair her
twin had, Susan's hair was cut in a cute little bob. “I haven't seen you in forever! Happy
Christmas!”

“Happy Christmas to you too,” Hermione knelt down beside her friend to pet the kitten.
“She's so cute!”

“We got her for Christmas. Her name is Tinks,” Susan grinned, pulling on the string she was
dangling. The two girls watched in amusement as the kitten flattened itself against the floor and
then sprang for the string. Susan pulled the string just out of the kitten's reach and giggled
as it rolled over on its back, pawing at the offending thread.

“Where's Sally-Anne?” Hermione asked after a few moments of watching the kitten play.

A dark look passed across Susan's face, “In her room pouting.”

“Pouting?” Hermione asked. “What happened?”

“Sally threw a fit because she isn't allowed to bring Tinks back to Hogwarts with her,” she
said, rolling her eyes.

“Oh,” Hermione said slowly. She had been nervous about confronting Sally-Anne as to why she had
been ignoring her; now she was sure that it was a bad idea - especially if she was in a bad
mood.

“Did you need to talk to her about witchy things?” Susan asked, trying to contain her
laughter.

“Witchy things?” Hermione laughed. “Have you been talking to Vi?”

“Us younger sisters have to have someone to talk to about how unfair it is that you guys get to
go to Hogwarts,” she replied, pouting. “At least Vi still has a chance at going.”

“Having a family with two Muggleborn witches is extremely rare,” Hermione said, rolling her
eyes. “Viola isn't a witch.”

“Right,” Susan said slowly. “Did you want to speak to Sally or not?”

“I can come back if she's in a bad mood,” Hermione said quickly.

“Sally!” Susan yelled, ignoring her.

“What?” A door opened and Sally-Anne marched out into the hallway. Her eyes widened slightly
when she saw Hermione and she turned around and walked right back into her room.

“She didn't slam the door so that means you're allowed to be in the same room,” Susan
said, rolling her eyes. “Have *fun*.”

Hermione stood up and wiped her suddenly clammy hands on her jeans as Susan scooped Tinks up and
hurried down the stairs. Hermione licked her lips and slowly entered Sally-Anne's room,
standing awkwardly in the middle of the space. Sally-Anne was sitting on her bed, glaring at
Hermione with surprising intensity.

“Finally found the time to speak to me, have you?” she spat.

“What?” Hermione took a step back in surprise.

“I see how it is,” she went on, “none of your other friends are around so you finally remember
Sally-Anne is here.”

“That isn't true!” Hermione cried.

“Don't lie, Hermione.” Sally-Anne growled, her eyes bright with tears. “You promised that
we'd be in the same house and that we'd be together.”

“Hold on,” Hermione protested, “how I supposed to know that we'd be sorted into different
houses? We didn't even know *how* we were going to be sorted! I didn't know the hat
was going to pick our brains.”

“I was so afraid of being alone at Hogwarts,” Sally-Anne continued, ignoring Hermione. “And then
I ran into you on the train and I was so happy that there was someone who knew me for me. But after
the *sorting* you never spoke to me outside of our lessons.”

“If you wanted to see me outside of school you could've just *asked*!” Hermione said,
her temper flaring. “Every lesson we have together I sit by *you* and not my other friends!
You've had plenty of time to ask if I wanted to meet up with you.”

“You were always surrounded by Fay, Shae, Parvati, Harry, or Ron before and after a lesson,”
Sally-Anne spat back. “How was I supposed to ask then?”

“Go up to me and just ask?” Hermione rolled her eyes. Sally-Anne had always been a bit of a
follower, not one to take the initiative for things, but this was ridiculous. “I don't see how
this is such a big deal. I've seen you with the friends you made in Hufflepuff - it's not
like you're alone and friendless.”

“They don't understand me like you do,” Sally-Anne whispered, drawing her knees up to her
chest. She looked so sad that Hermione felt a pang of guilt go through her. “They don't
understand how I feel.”

“Is this about being a Muggleborn?” Hermione asked quietly, her anger disappearing almost
instantly. Sally-Anne nodded. “But you aren't the only Muggleborn in your year. Justin is one
too.”

“Justin,” Sally-Anne snorted. “His family is stinking *rich*. You should see the things his
family sends to him. It doesn't matter that he's a Muggleborn like us, he's from a
different world than we're used to.”

Hermione sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I can kind of see where you're going
with this,” she said quietly. “We've known each other much longer than the other students. But
you were always too busy playing with Susan to play with me so we just played together at school. I
guess I just thought it'd be the same way at Hogwarts - only see you throughout the lessons. I
didn't think about how not having Susan with you all the time would affect you, especially
since you're so close with her. I'm sorry, Sally-Anne.”

“It's okay,” Sally-Anne whispered.

“I promise I'll spend more time with you at Hogwarts,” Hermione declared, straightening up.
“We can work on homework together, and you can sit with me during the Quidditch matches. When it
warms up we can go for walks around the lake too!”

“I'd like that,” Sally-Anne sniffed, wiping her eyes. “I'm sorry for being so mean to
you, Hermione. I was hurt and -”

“I get it, it's okay.” Hermione interrupted. “We all make mistakes.”

Sally-Anne reached over and pulled Hermione into a tight hug, apologizing again. She squeezed
Sally-Anne softly and then drew back- the awkward feeling Hermione felt when she entered the room
was back again. “I think I should get going,” Hermione said, standing up. “I promised Viola I'd
show her some of my homework.”

“See you on the train, Hermione,” Sally-Anne waved.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as she headed out of the room and down the stairs to where
her coat was hanging. She pulled it on and was putting her winter boots on when Susan poked her
head out of the kitchen. “Everything okay now?” she asked.

“I think so,” Hermione said, straightening up. “We're good now.”

“That's good,” Susan smiled. She trailed off and stared at Hermione. “Listen, I love my
sister a lot. But you have to listen to me,” she glanced up the stairs and lowered her voice, “be
careful what you promise Sally.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“You'll see,” Susan said, shaking her head. “Make sure you stop by again before you go back
to Hogwarts, okay? I've missed you.”

“I will,” Hermione promise and Susan let her out of the house. Hermione sighed as she walked
back to her own house. She left feeling more confused than she had felt when she arrived.

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**End Note: Holy crap I'm done! I'm finally done! This chapter was a beach to write**
**- it took me almost a month! FINALLY.**

**Since I'm in the process of writing (and don't like doing weekly updates until
I'm at least three chapters ahead), I'll see you guys when I see ya!**

**Kelci**

-->



13. Twelve: Boiling Cauldrons
-----------------------------



**Twelve**

**“****Boiling Cauldrons****”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit.** **ALSO, I used some of the text from
the** **Philosopher's Stone** **and that most definitely belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

**Note One: A big thanks to** **the_scribbler** **for being my awesomesauce
beta/editor!**

**Note Two: So I actually finished this chapter a lot faster than I anticipated. I'm going
to be out of town until next Wednesday and wanted to post this right away. So you guys are lucky, 3
chapters in under a week - don't get used to it! ;)**

**Note Two: the_scribbler enlightened me as to how confusing my dates were, so I went and made
a timeline with the specific dates that events happen. I've gone back through all the chapters
and changed the dates (the only big one is that the `present story' is now happening in 2016 to
make sense so let's just pretend that HP part 2 is gonna come out then, okay? Okay!). I also
went and changed the format to make it look like the more recent chapters.**

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**5 January, 1992**

As much as Hermione loved being with her family, she was excited to get back to Hogwarts to see
her friends and resume her schooling. After a heart-wrenching goodbye between her family, Hermione
and Sally-Anne boarded the train together. Shae and Fay were searching for Hermione and jumped on
her as soon as they saw her. Sally-Anne -who had found her friends from Hufflepuff - gave Hermione
a look and rolled her eyes before dragging Hannah and Susan off to their compartment. Hermione
frowned at her behaviour but let it go, turning her attention to Shae and Fay as they dragged her
into a compartment of their own.

“I loved the present! How did you know the Holyhead Harpies were my favourite team?” Fay asked,
giving Hermione a hug. “I don't remember telling you.”

“I'm just that good,” Hermione joked, grinning.

“Puh-lease,” Shae scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You're good, *Minny*, but not that
good.”

The smile dropped from Hermione's face as she glared at the ginger, “Don't ever call me
that again.”

“But it's so cute!” Shae cackled, sitting down on the compartment bench. “And it is easier
than saying Hermione all the time.”

“You're not calling me that,” Hermione finalized. “If you call me it again, you'll be
sorry.”

“I think she's serious, Shae,” Fay stated, munching on a liquorice stick she pulled from her
bag. “Say it again and it'll be goodbye homework help.”

“Fine,” Shae groaned, rolling her eyes. “I'm finding a nickname for you, though.”

Hermione groaned. “Good luck with finding one I like.”

“That sounds like a challenge to me.”

The girls spent the rest of the train ride talking about their Christmas holiday and the gifts
they had received, with Shae trying out different nicknames for Hermione. Hermione shot down Herms,
Knee, Mia, and almost throttled Shae when she suggested `Hermy-Herms'.

“Give up,” Fay laughed.

“I'll find a nickname for you yet, Mimi,” Shae promised.

“Mimi?” Hermione laughed. “I agree with Fay - give up now. You're never going to find
something I like.”

Shae rolled her eyes. The train began to slow down and they gathered up their things. Hermione
could feel herself start to salivate at the thought of the feast that awaited them as they stepped
out into the crisp cold air, her stomach grumbling loudly.

The three were led to a long line of about one hundred horseless carriages that carried the
students to the castle. Neville had run into them while he was trying to find a carriage and Fay
dragged him in the one they were getting into.

In a matter of minutes, Hermione found herself walking through the large doors leading into the
Entrance Hall. Inhaling, she almost groaned at the smell of delicious food wafting through the
room. The warmth from the torches sent a delightful chill through her as she followed the line of
students to get into the Great Hall.

“It's good to be back,” Fay sighed, glancing up at the enchanted ceiling.

Hermione nodded in agreement and looked around the Hall. She spotted Harry and Ron down in the
middle of the Gryffindor table and excused herself from the other first years. Hurrying over, she
plopped down in the seat beside Harry. “Hey you two,” she grinned.

“Hermione!” Harry said, surprised. “Welcome back!”

“Thanks,” she said. “How were your holidays?”

“Great,” he replied. “Thanks for the Chocolate Frogs.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Ron said eagerly. “Did mum -?”

“I got the jumper and fudge, yes,” Hermione nodded. Ron groaned and put his head into his hands,
his ears turning pink. “What? I loved it!”

“It's embarrassing,” Ron grumbled.

“I got the gift too,” Harry piped up, grinning cheekily at Hermione. “The jumper's comfy,
isn't it?”

“So comfy,” Hermione sighed blissfully, enjoying Ron's discomfort. “Is it hand knitted? It
must have taken your mother a long time to make.”

“She makes one for all seven kids,” Harry grinned. “She sounds amazing, doesn't she?”

“Does she use magic to help her?” Hermione asked Ron.

Ron grumbled and slunk further down in his seat. He was saved from Hermione and Harry as
Professor Dumbledore stood up at the head table. He cleared his throat, gaining everyone's
attention and spread his arms wide. “Welcome back to the second term,” he greeted cheerfully. “I
hope everyone had a wonderful holiday filled with Christmas cheer! Lessons resume tomorrow morning
so let's enjoy the evening to the fullest!”

Professor Dumbledore clapped his hands and dishes upon dishes of food appeared on the tables.
Hermione dug in hungrily, grabbing a bit of everything. She had gotten used to drinking pumpkin
juice every morning and had missed it during the holidays.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Hermione noticed Harry and Ron having a silent
conversation. She watched, amused, as they exchanged looks and gestures back and forth. “Tell her,”
Ron muttered finally.

“Tell me what?”

Harry glanced around and leaned in close to Hermione. “I got an Invisibility cloak for
Christmas,” he whispered.

Hermione, who had just put a spoonful of mashed potatoes into her mouth, choked, her eyes
widening. Harry thumped her on her back as she started coughing and Ron quickly pushed a goblet of
pumpkin juice into her hand. “You got a *what*?” she gasped after a large gulp of the
juice.

“An Invisibility cloak,” Ron whispered. “It's this wicked cloak that makes -”

“I know what one is, Ron,” Hermione interrupted, rolling her eyes. She had read all about them
while researching for Professor Quirrell's current essay about the different types of stealth
witches and wizards can use. “What I mean is why did Harry get one?”

“Beats me,” Ron grumbled, put out that Hermione had interrupted him. “There was only a note that
said Harry's dad gave it to whoever sent it and that Harry should use it well.”

“You haven't used it, have you?” Hermione asked quickly.

“Of course I have,” Harry said. “Why wouldn't I - *ow*! Hermione!”

“Are you stupid?” Hermione hissed, giving Harry another slap on the arm. “It could have been
cursed! You could've been hurt once you used it! Have you not learned anything from the
assigned readings Professor Quirrell made us do?”

“But he wasn't hurt,” Ron said, grabbing Hermione's arm. “His dad left it to whoever
sent it. I think it's safe for us to trust it.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, yanked her arm out of Ron's grip, and went back to her dinner. She
had read all about wizards and witches receiving mysterious packages that were cursed and the chaos
that ensued once they used the item. She couldn't believe that, with the events that happened
this year, Harry and Ron were stupid enough to trust the package so quickly.

Dinner and desert passed with the trio making small conversation, all of them pointedly ignoring
the issue with the Invisibility cloak. Hermione grudgingly admitted to herself that the cloak could
prove to be helpful in the future, but she wasn't going to let Harry or Ron know that any time
soon. Professor Dumbledore dismissed them and they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower; yawning
and shuffling the entire way.

Hermione said goodnight to the boys and went up to her dormitory, talking briefly with Parvati
and Lavender about how their holiday went. She quickly changed into her pyjamas and collapsed onto
bed, falling asleep immediately.

**<><><><><>**

**30 January, 1992**

Hermione easily fell back into her routine once lessons resumed, thankful for the planner Fay
had given her for Christmas. The planner was already full with different assignments, exams, and
important dates for the next few weeks, plus times where Hermione, Harry, and Ron could look in the
library for Nicholas Flamel. While Hermione was disappointed that Harry and Ron hadn't really
looked for Flamel during the holiday, she couldn't blame them. She herself had skipped out on
searching through the books she had taken out to spend time with her family.

Hermione was making extra effort in spending time with Sally-Anne as well. A couple nights a
week they would meet up in the library to do homework or talk. Hermione really did feel guilty for
ignoring Sally-Anne last term and, since she knew firsthand how terrible it felt to feel isolated
and alone, made sure that her friend wouldn't feel like that again. She still didn't
understand what Susan had meant when she warned Hermione to be careful what she promised
Sally-Anne. She figured that it would probably make sense in the future and didn't fret on it
too much - she already had enough to worry about.

“Finished!” Sally-Anne grinned victoriously, dropping her quill and stretching. She glanced down
at the Potions essay she had been writing for the past hour, quickly signed her name, and rolled it
up.

Hermione, who had finished all of her homework earlier, looked up from *1001 Utterly Useless
Facts about Magic*. “You're all caught up then?” she asked.

“Thanks to you,” Sally-Anne said, putting everything into her bag. “You're a lifesaver,
Hermione.”

Hermione grinned and placed her bookmark on her page. Above Sally-Anne's head she saw
Neville slump into the library dejectedly. “Uh oh,” she murmured, her smile fading.

“What?” Sally-Anne asked, glancing over her shoulder. Neville had spotted Hermione and made his
way over to the table, Sally-Anne stiffening slightly as he came closer. “Neville.”

“What's wrong, Neville?” Hermione asked, gesturing to the empty seat beside her.

“Malfoy,” Neville moaned, slumping into the seat. “He won't leave me alone.”

“He's bullying you?” Hermione gasped. She wasn't surprised, Malfoy liked to bully
everyone but she felt horrible for Neville anyway.

“Tell a teacher,” Sally-Anne suggested immediately.

“I can't do that,” Neville protested strongly. “He'll just make it worse if I tell
someone.”

“So you're just going to take whatever he dishes out?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That's all I really can do,” Neville shrugged, resting his forehead against the table.

“Don't listen to Malfoy, Neville,” Hermione said, placing her hand on his arm. “He's
only a bully because he's insecure.”

“That's right,” Sally-Anne agreed, nodding. “You're better than that!”

“Maybe…” Neville said, trailing off.

“You're better than Malfoy.” Hermione insisted. She grabbed a fistful of Neville's robe
and forced him to sit up straight. “Listen to me, Neville. You're kind, loyal, and a good
person. Malfoy just expects everyone to do everything for him and when they don't, he bullies
them. He's never had to work for anything so he doesn't know how others feel. Remember that
the next time Malfoy tries to start something with you - it'll make things feel better. Trust
me.”

The corners of Neville's mouth twitched upwards as he smiled shyly at Hermione and
Sally-Anne. “Thanks,” he said. “Do you mind if I sit with you two for a while?”

“Go ahead,” Hermione said, standing up. “I'm just going to pick out a book and I'll be
right back.”

Hermione left the table and picked a random isle to go down. She had taken to just randomly
picking a book and searching through it, just in case Flamel was mentioned. Unfortunately, she was
beginning to give up hope that they'd find him in a library book, they had been searching for
months now with no progress at all.

A large, thick looking book caught Hermione's attention. She reached up and grabbed the
enormous book, not expecting it to be so heavy. The book was old, the leather covering faded with
age. Balancing the tome precariously on one arm, she ran a hand down the spine, loving the rough
feel beneath her fingers. Hermione was hit with the overwhelming urge to read it and turned around
to go back to her friends. When she returned to the table, Neville was flipping through *1001
Utterly Useless Facts about Magic* and Sally-Anne was staring off into nothing. They both looked
at her with raised eyebrows as she set the book down on the table.

“Are you going to read that?” Sally-Anne asked incredulously.

“I wouldn't have brought it with me if I wasn't,” Hermione rolled her eyes. She sat down
and opened the book, glancing over the index.

“Why would you want to read all of that?” Sally-Anne asked, grabbing the corner and holding the
book up so she could read the cover. “I can't even understand what the title means!”

“It's good for learning,” Hermione said absently, gently pushing Sally-Anne's hand away
so she could continue reading the index.

“That's just how Hermione is,” Neville grinned.

Hermione was briefly aware of Sally-Anne saying something to Neville, but everything had faded
into the distance as she stared at the index. Her breath caught and her stomach fluttered madly as
the words *Nicholas Flam**el;* *page 497* stared up at her. She quickly flipped to
the page, her heart racing as she read about the man.

“Oh my God,” Hermione whispered, quickly rereading the page. “The Philosopher's Stone…”

“Hermione?” Neville asked, touching her shoulder. She jumped, slamming her hand over the
paragraph she had been reading. “Are you alright?”

“Fine!” Hermione squeaked, a huge grin surfacing. “Better than fine actually - I'm
great!”

“What were you reading?” Sally-Anne asked curiously.

“I have to go,” Hermione said suddenly, ignoring Sally-Anne and snapping the book shut. She had
to find Harry and Ron and tell them that she had *finally* found Nicholas Flamel. Better yet,
she found out what Fluffy had been guarding and what Professor Snape was after!

“Hermione!” Sally-Anne hissed. “What's going on?”

“I'll see you two later,” Hermione said, hurriedly stuffing everything into her bag. She
grabbed the book and walked as fast as she dared to towards Madam Pince's desk. Placing the
book down in front of her, Hermione tried to make her expression blank.

“You want to take this out?” Madam Pince asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Y-yes,” she stuttered, feeling like she was being dissected underneath the librarian's
gaze.

Madam Pince opened the cover and stamped the return date on a slip of paper. Hermione thanked
her and grabbed the book, clutching it tightly to her chest. She turned on her heel and walked
briskly out of the library. Once out the door, Hermione sprinted as fast as she could up to
Gryffindor Tower. The portrait of the Fat Lady opened just as she was running towards it and a
figure ran at her.

“*Oof!*”

Hermione felt the wind push out of her lungs as she ran straight into Harry. The both collapsed
in a heap of limbs, the book digging painfully into her side.

“Hermione?” Harry groaned, picking up his glasses that had been knocked off from the impact.
“Are you alright?”

“I'm fine,” Hermione gasped, pushing the book away from her. She untangled herself from
Harry just as the Fat Lady started fretting over their well-being. Once up on her feet, she grabbed
the book and hurried into the common room (which was luckily mostly empty so no one saw the
embarrassing run in). “Why were you running out of the common room?”

“To find you!” Ron exclaimed, helping Harry up. “You'll never believe it - Harry found
Nicholas Flamel!”

“What?” Hermione gasped. “That's incredible! I just found him too! Where did you find
him?”

Harry brandished a small card that Hermione recognized came in Chocolate Frogs, a huge grin on
his face. The portrait was empty but read `Albus Dumbledore' underneath. “It was from the box
of Chocolate Frogs you gave me for Christmas!” he exclaimed. “Listen - *Dumbledore is
particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the
twelve uses of dragon's blood and his work on* alchemy with his partner, Nicholas Flamel! I
told you I read his name before!”

“This is great, Harry!” Hermione exclaimed.

“So we found out who Flamel is,” Ron said, taking the card from Harry and examining it. “But we
still need to find out what Fluffy is guarding.”

“I know what it is,” Hermione said excitedly. She set the book down on a table and gestured for
Harry and Ron to come closer. “Lately I've been picking random books to look through when
I'm with Sally-Anne in the library. This is the lucky book - Flamel has an entire chapter
dedicated to him because of the Philosopher's Stone!”

“The *what*?” Harry and Ron asked at the same time.

“The Philosopher's Stone! The elixir of life?” At the blank expressions she was getting from
the two boys, Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes. “*Honestly*, don't you two read?”

“Why read when we have you to tell us the answers?” Ron said cheekily.

Hermione glared at him and opened the book to the page about Nicholas Flamel, shoving it towards
Ron. She waited as Harry and Ron quickly read it over, their expressions changing to shock the
further they read.

“See?” Hermione said eagerly once the two had finished. “I'll bet you anything Fluffy is
guarding it - Flamel must have asked Dumbledore to keep it safe here at Hogwarts!”

“No wonder Snape is after it,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Anyone would want something like
*that*.”

“What do we do now?” Ron asked, sitting down in a chair. “We know about the Stone and why Snape
is after it, but we can't do anything about it.”

“We keep it safe,” Harry said after a moment. “Snape's attempts at getting the Stone have
failed so far, as long as it stays that way we don't have to do anything. If we find out
he's getting closer to getting the Stone - we tell Dumbledore.”

“I like that,” Hermione said, nodding. “Just be careful, Harry. Snape's already proved that
he's desperate enough to try and kill you.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair, paling instantly. Hermione watched him, terrified that her
comment had made Harry extremely paranoid about their professor now. “About Snape,” he began,
sounding reluctant.

“What about him?” Ron coaxed after a moment's silence.

“Oliver told us last night that Snape will be refereeing our next match,” he muttered.

“*What!?*” Hermione and Ron exploded.

“He can't do that!” Ron exclaimed. “What about Madam Hooch?”

“You can't play, Harry,” Hermione said. “It's way too dangerous.”

“I have to,” Harry snapped. “There isn't a reserve Seeker and Oliver will kill me if I pull
out.”

“Pretend to break your leg then,” Ron suggested, getting up from his seat and pacing. “Oh,
better yet - *really* break your leg.”

“Like that'll work, Ron,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “If Madam Pomfrey healed Neville's
broken wrist in minutes, a broken leg won't be much different.”

“Come off it, Hermione,” Ron grumbled. “I was joking.”

“This isn't a laughing matter,” she snapped. “Harry could be seriously injured!”

“I know that,” he sputtered indignantly. “I was trying to lighten the mood!”

“I have to play,” Harry shrugged, interrupting the two. “I don't want the Slytherins
thinking that I pulled out just because of Snape - I'll never hear the end of it.”

“That's exactly why you'd be pulling out,” Hermione grumbled.

“I'm playing,” Harry repeated sternly. “I just have to catch the Snitch as fast as I can so
Snape doesn't have time to try anything.”

**<><><><><>**

**7 February, 1992**

Hermione huffed angrily, trying to school her features as Professor Snape circled the classroom
like a hawk. Hermione always found Potions annoying - the way their professor would so blatantly
play favourites was sickening - but it was slowly turning into an hour and a half torture session.
It was common knowledge that Professor Snape had a great disliking for Gryffindor, but in the last
couple weeks it seemed that his dislike turned into hatred. The last few lessons were completely
horrible; Professor Snape would nit-pick over every single thing the Gryffindors did, never having
anything nice to say and always taking points away at least twice by the end of the lesson.

“Very good, Mr. Malfoy,” Professor Snape commented, making everyone jump. His circling was
making everyone too nervous to talk. “Your potion is exactly the right consistency. Let's
compare it with someone else's, shall we?”

Hermione felt dread churn violently in her stomach as she watched Professor Snape's smile
turn sinister. His eyes roamed the Gryffindor side, pausing briefly on Hermione. She fought to keep
her expression blank, silently daring him to pick her. Her potion was brewed to perfection and if
Snape gave her any grief about it, it would be enough to go to Professor McGonagall

Professor Snape seemed to realize that too and his eyes moved to the table next to
Hermione's. The air was tense, everyone knew who he was going to pick. “Mr. Longbottom,
let's see your potion.”

“He's horrible,” Shae, who was sitting across from Hermione, muttered.

Professor Snape stopped his march over to Neville and turned to Shae, raising an eyebrow, “Was
there something you wanted to say, Miss Bevern?”

Shae's eyes widened and she paled. “N-no sir,” she stammered.

“I didn't think so,” he snipped, turning back to Neville. “Five points from Gryffindor.”

Shae glared murderously at Professor Snape's back as he continued over to poor Neville.
Hermione held her breath as he stopped in front of Neville's cauldron. No one moved as he
peered over the potion, his lip curling almost immediately, “Are you illiterate, Mr.
Longbottom?”

Hermione felt Harry stiffen beside her as Neville shrank into his seat. “I - I… n-no,” Neville
began.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Professor Snape continued, turning to look at the blonde. “Please tell Mr.
Longbottom how you got your potion to that exact consistency.”

“I just read the instructions, Professor,” Malfoy said gleefully, enjoying every moment of
Snape's torture.

“And did you find any of the instructions difficult to understand?” Professor Snape asked.

“No sir,” he replied, “it was dumbed down.”

“There you have it,” Professor Snape turned back to Neville. “The instructions were written as
simply as they could be and yet you still managed to mess it up.”

“I -” Neville squeaked, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“It says here,” he interrupted, snatching Neville's textbook up, “to add the mandrake root
*after* letting the potion boil for five minutes. You clearly added it *before*.”

“It was -”

“And how hard is it to understand `stir counter-clockwise continuously for a minute'?” he
slammed the book down onto the table, making everyone jump again. “Are you intentionally this
stupid or are you really that dimwitted?”

Hermione felt herself bristle as she watched Neville try to keep his emotions in check. By now,
all the Gryffindors were glaring murderously at Professor Snape while the Slytherins sat back and
enjoyed the show. Harry was stiff as a board beside Hermione and she could feel the anger rolling
off of him in waves.

“Well?” Professor Snape raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”

The bell rang, saving Neville from the interrogation. Hermione let out a breath as they all
began to pack up their things. Professor Snape told them to leave their potions where they were.
“And twenty points from Gryffindor,” Professor Snape added before sweeping out of the dungeon.

While the other Gryffindors rushed out of the dungeon, Hermione, Harry, and Ron stayed back and
waited for Neville to pack up his things. The poor boy kept his head down; making sure his bangs
covered his eyes, as he slowly put his textbook into his bag. Hermione felt her heart break when
she saw Neville's hand reach up and wipe his eyes quickly. He turned around and jumped, not
realizing that the three had been waiting for him.

“You did your best, Neville,” Hermione said as they left the dungeon and headed to Gryffindor
Tower.

“My best wasn't good enough,” he replied dejectedly.

“Next time sit by me,” she offered. “I'll help you with the instructions.”

“Really?” Neville's head shot up, his eyes brightening.

“Really,” Hermione nodded. “Professor Snape had no right to treat you like he did today. You
should really go to -”

“No,” Neville shot down immediately, cutting Hermione off. “I don't want to cause any more
trouble.”

“But it's troubling *you*,” she protested.

“Let him be, Hermione,” Ron said, rolling his eyes. “You can't force him into telling.
Besides, he's a Gryffindor.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” she asked.

“Gryffindors are brave and loyal and don't run away from their problems.”

“All the things that I'm not,” Neville said glumly. “I think the Sorting Hat made a mistake
with me. I'm more of a Hufflepuff.”

“Nonsense,” Hermione scoffed. “The Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor for a reason - you
belong with us.”

“Hermione's right,” Harry agreed. “So don't listen to what Snape or Malfoy or anyone
else tells you.”

“Thanks,” Neville said, giving a genuine smile. They walked in silence until they reached the
floor with the library. Neville paused, reaching into his bag. “I have to return a book I borrowed.
You lot go on and I'll meet you in the common room.”

Hermione, Harry, and Ron waved goodbye to Neville as they continued up to Gryffindor Tower. Once
they hit the common room, Ron suckered Harry into a game of wizard's chess and Hermione pulled
out some homework she needed finish. She had learned to not ask if Harry or Ron wanted to do
homework with her on their Friday afternoon's off, even if their schoolwork was improving they
still liked to procrastinate.

**<><><><><>**

**11 February, 1992**

“I have an idea,” Ron announced excitedly, sitting down across the table from Hermione.

Hermione glanced up from her History of Magic essay, surprised at the eagerness in Ron's
expression. “Yes?” she asked, setting her quill down.

“I don't trust Snape,” he began, “and I really don't trust him up in the air with Harry.
So I was thinking… what if we prepare something to use against Snape if he tries anything at the
Quidditch match?”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked slowly. She had an idea of what Ron was talking about but was
hoping that she was wrong.

“A spell or something,” Ron explained impatiently.

“And use it against Snape?” Hermione gasped. She glanced around the busy common room, making
sure that no one had heard what Ron had said. “That's attacking a teacher, Ron. We could be
expelled!”

“You rather have Harry die?” Ron snapped, leaning back in the seat and raising an eyebrow at
her.

“Of course not!” she cried. “But - oh, I don't know Ron. He's still a teacher.”

“Then we use something that'll just distract him so Harry can get away,” Ron rolled his
eyes. “Either way Hermione, I'm not going to sit there the entire match and not be
prepared.”

Hermione bit her lip, her brow creasing in a worried frown. “Okay,” she relented. “I don't
fancy attacking a teacher, but if it means we can help Harry I'll do it.”

“Wicked,” Ron grinned, resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward. “So what are we
going to use?”

Hermione blinked, “You haven't thought of what spell we'd use?”

“No really, no,” Ron said sheepishly. “I figured you'd have something up your sleeve.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Typical,” she muttered. She picked up her quill and looked over her
essay. “I'll think of something soon.”

“You don't have to get snippy about it,” Ron said.

“I'm not being snippy,” she snapped. “I just think you should have some idea on what
we'll use.”

The portrait hole opened up, cutting off Ron's retort, and the Gryffindor Quidditch team
came stumbling into the common room, looking muddy and exhausted. Hermione and Ron stopped talking
as they watched Harry give a tired wave to them and then marched across the common room and up the
stairs to get cleaned up.

“We don't mention this to Harry,” Hermione said once he was out of sight. “He'll try and
stop us if he found out.”

Ron nodded in agreement and reached over to grab Hermione's Charms textbook. “I'm
searching for a spell we could use,” he said when she raised her eyebrows at him.

“Nothing too complex,” Hermione warned as he opened the book. “We only have a week to learn
it.”

“I know, I know,” Ron said, flipping the pages.

Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to her essay as Ron began to read the different spells in
the textbook. Harry returned to the common room twenty minutes later, freshly showered in a pair of
sweats and a ratty, too big shirt, carrying a box of Chocolate Frogs. He set the box down in the
middle of the table and sat down beside Hermione, pulling out his own homework. Without looking up
from the Charms book, Ron reached into the box and grabbed a Chocolate Frog, stuffing it into his
mouth without taking his eyes from the page.

Harry raised his eyebrows at his friend and looked questioningly at Hermione. Ron had never
shown so much interest in a book before so of course Harry would notice. “Don't ask,” she
laughed, going back to her essay.

“If you say so,” Harry chuckled, shaking his head. He picked up his quill and began working on
his own History of Magic essay.

The trio worked in silence for an hour, Ron growing increasingly more frustrated as he flipped
through the Charms textbook, mumbling under his breath. “Is he okay?” Harry asked cautiously. He
had given up on his History of Magic essay and started on the diagrams Professor Sprout had
assigned them.

“I hope so,” Hermione replied, shaking her head. She still couldn't believe that she agreed
to find a spell they could use to *attack* a teacher. It went against everything she had ever
been taught growing up as a child.

A roar of laughter erupted throughout the common room, making the three first years look up. The
portrait hole had opened up and Neville came hopping through it, stumbling over the ledge and
falling face first onto the floor. His legs were locked together in what Hermione instantly
recognized as the Leg-Locker Curse. Ron snorted, trying to hide his laughter as Hermione whipped
around to glare at him.

“Really, Ron?” she hissed, getting up. She rushed over to where Neville was struggling to get
up, cuffing Ron on the back of the head as she passed.

“Neville!” Fay joined Hermione as they grabbed him under the arms and helped him up.

Hermione pulled out her wand and used the counter curse on Neville. His legs sprang apart and he
stumbled again, losing his balance, much to the amusement of the students watching. Once he
regained his balance, the rest of the common room lost interest and went back to what they were
doing except for the first years. Everyone came up around him as Hermione lead the poor boy to a
sofa, “Are you okay, Neville?”

“Fine,” he mumbled, red with embarrassment.

“Who did that to you?” Harry asked, coming up beside Hermione.

“One guess,” Neville grumbled. “Malfoy cornered me outside of the library and said he needed
someone to practice on.”

“What?” Shae gasped, sitting down beside Neville. “That's horrible!”

“You need to tell a teacher,” Parvati said, frowning. “This isn't right.”

“See?” Hermione exclaimed, smiling at the Indian girl. “I'm not the only one who thinks you
need to tell someone!”

“No,” Neville shook his head. “It'll cause more trouble than it's worth.”

“You've got to stand up to him, Neville!” Ron exclaimed. “Malfoy only picks on you because
you don't fight back.”

“You don't need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor,” Neville hissed,
surprising everyone. Hermione didn't think she had ever seen Neville react so passionately
before. “Malfoy's already done that.”

“Ron didn't mean it like that,” Harry said quickly. He grabbed a Chocolate Frog and handed
it out to Neville. “You're worth twelve of Malfoy, Neville. Like we told you the other day, the
Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor for a reason. And where's Malfoy? He's in stinking
Slytherin! You're already better than him.”

Neville gave a weak smile and accepted the Chocolate Frog, nearly letting it escape as he
unwrapped it. “Thanks, Harry,” he said, his cheek quivering as the Chocolate Frog tried to escape.
“I think I'll head to bed now. Goodnight.”

Everyone bid Neville goodnight and watched as he went up the spiral staircase. “I can't
believe Malfoy!” Shae hissed.

“I can,” Ron said darkly. “He's a git.”

“He shouldn't be able to get away with this,” Dean said, shaking his head.

“He'll get what's coming to him,” Seamus promised, nodding. “If he doesn't stop
we'll just have to do something, right mates?”

The boys agreed and Hermione fidgeted. “Let's not resort to violence,” she said
hesitantly.

“Hermione, they're boys.” Shae rolled her eyes. “They're going to end up fighting Malfoy
sooner or later.” Hermione huffed and crossed her arms.

“Anyway, I think Neville's got the right idea,” Harry said, yawning. “I'm turning in,
goodnight.”

Everyone dispersed and went back to what they were doing, leaving Hermione and Ron standing
together. “Hermione,” Ron began, his expression brightening as he watched Harry gather up his
homework and head up to the dormitory, “I think I know what spell we can use.”

“Leg-Locker Curse?” Hermione guessed. “That is the best option really, but we'd need a place
to practice.”

“Just ask Flitwick if we can use his classroom,” Ron shrugged, going back to their table.
“You're his favourite, there's no way he'd refuse.”

“That could work,” Hermione agreed, nodding. “I'll just tell him that you were having
trouble with the spell and asked me to help you.” Ron's head whipped towards her and he glared
at her. “What? I already know how to use the spell.”

“Fine,” Ron snapped, not happy about the excuse. He'd put up with it, though, if it meant
keeping Harry safe.

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**End note:** **And here's another chapter, I hope you all liked it!**

**Remember, r****eviews make the chapters come faster!**

**Kelci**

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14. Thirteen: Humanity
----------------------



**Thirteen**

**“****Humanity****”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit. ALSO, I used some of the text from the**
**Philosopher's Stone** **and that most definitely belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

**Note One: A big thanks to** **the_scribbler** **for being my awesomesauce
beta/editor!**

**Note Two:** **I hope you enjoy!**

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{****}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**14 February, 1992**

Professor Severus Snape was, if anything at all, one who despised holidays. He was never seen
partaking in Beltane celebrations, nor Mayday festivities (two of the largest wizarding holidays,
which predated all of the `Christian' holidays that were celebrated in muggle-controlled
Britain). The one that he despised the most was, of course, Valentine's Day. The thought of
wizarding students - especially *pureblooded* wizarding students - celebrating such a
Christian holiday was something he detested. Beyond that, he loathed the thought of so many
students giving free reign to their raging hormones.

However, the fact that this year's Valentine's Day ended up on a Friday made Professor
Snape smile. It gave him perfect opportunity to harass, belittle, and otherwise abuse the students
in the three other houses. He particularly couldn't wait for his first lesson of the day -
first year Potions with Slytherin and Gryffindor. The lesson he planned was a good one, and had
promise of showing him who would be able to make it through Potions for the next seven years and
who would need to have their hand held the entire way (he knew right away Hufflepuff and Gryffindor
would be competing for first place in *that*).

Slipping his wand up the sleeve of his robe, Professor Snape smiled to himself and walked
briskly out of his office, his robes flapping dramatically behind him. His footsteps echoed loudly
off the dungeon walls as he strode down towards the dungeon classroom. He could see Dean Thomas and
Seamus Finnegan running into the classroom just as the bell rang and he smirked - the lesson was
already starting off on a good note.

“Five points from Gryffindor,” Professor Snape said in greeting, striding to the front of the
class, “because of Mr. Thomas and Mr. Finnegan's tardiness.”

The Gryffindor side of the room burst out into loud groans and complaints. Professor Snape paid
no heed to them as he whipped his wand out from his sleeve and flicked it. Immediately, the door
slammed shut and all candles except three small ones near Professor Snape's desk were
extinguished.

A dark smile crossed over Professor Snape's face as the room grew silent immediately. He
inhaled, practically smelling the fear radiating off of the Gryffindors, and let his eyes roam over
the students. Today would be a good day.

**<><><>**

Hermione blinked furiously, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness. Beside her,
she could hear Neville give a small whimper of fear as Professor Snape studied everyone from the
front of the class.

“I don't expect,” Professor Snape began softly, “that any of you are truly capable of
producing the potion on the board.” He gestured with the tip of his wand to a long series of
instructions on the blackboard that were illuminated in a silvery light. “However, the Headmaster
has given me leave to test your knowledge of potion-making techniques. Think of this as a pop-quiz
of sorts.”

Hermione felt a grin start to spread across her face - she excelled at pop-quizzes.

“Don't worry, Neville,” Harry whispered to Neville from across the table. “Remember,
we'll help you.”

Hermione squinted to read the finely printed notes at the front of the room, the silver glow
making them slightly hard to read. Her eyes widened once she was able to read the instructions of
the potion and her stomach sank, her hand shooting up immediately. “But Professor,” she began, not
waiting for Professor Snape to call on her, “that's a fourth-year potion that has to be done in
almost complete darkness! The ingredients take an extremely long time to prepare and we won't
even encounter most of them until third year! You can't expect us to *pass* this pop-quiz
with a potion like that!”

Even through the darkness, Hermione could feel everyone's eyes on her. She bit her lip,
wondering if she should've stayed silent as she saw Professor Snape's eyes glint in the
darkness.

“I wasn't aware,” Professor Snape said, his voice almost a whisper, “that Hogwarts had a new
Potions master.”

Hermione's eyes widened as the Slytherin side began to snicker. “N-no, sir! I
didn't-”

“Are you sure?” he challenged, his black eyes narrowing. “You seem to know *everything*
there possibly is to know about Potions. So much so that there really isn't any need for me to
teach you, is there?”

“That isn't what I meant, Professor,” Hermione protested weakly, feeling her eyes start to
sting with tears. She now knew how poor Neville felt whenever Professor Snape bullied him. The air
in the dungeon was tense and awkward as everyone waited for what would come next. Professor Snape
slowly walked over to Hermione's table, his footsteps echoing menacingly.

“For the past seven months you've been nothing but an insufferable know-it-all in my
classroom,” he said, stopping in front of the table. His tone dropped to a low growl and even the
Slytherins stopped their giggling to warily watch their Head of House. “I think it's high time
that you learn your *place* here. Fifty points from Gryffindor and two weeks of detention
should rectify that.”

The class sucked in a collective breath as Hermione's punishment was announced.
Hermione's eyes widened and she felt a tear trail down her cheek. She had always made sure to
not be a nuisance in her lessons and to get so many points taken away *and* two weeks'
worth of detention was a fate worse than death in her eyes.

“You can't do that!” Harry declared. The sound of a stool scraping back made everyone cringe
as the boy shot up. “Hermione was only pointing out a fact! You can't punish her because she
was telling the *truth*!”

“Excuse me?” Professor Snape snarled venomously. “*I* am the professor here- I make the
decisions! You and Granger have not been here long enough to know all the secrets of Hogwarts and
yet you both think you can challenge *my* knowledge? Another thirty points from Gryffindor,
Potter. You can serve the two weeks detention with the Mu-”

“Good morning, Severus.”

A gasp rang through the class as the dungeon was suddenly filled with light. Everyone groaned at
the sudden brightness and turned to see who the voice belonged to. Professor Dumbledore was sitting
calmly on the stool beside Seamus in the middle of the classroom, elbows on the table and his
fingers pressed together. His expression was one of relaxation but there was a hard glint in his
eyes as he stared at Professor Snape. No one had seen the Headmaster enter the dungeon and whispers
broke out throughout the classroom. Seamus was so surprised to see Professor Dumbledore appear
beside him that he gave a surprised squeak and toppled off his stool.

“Are you alright, Mr. Finnegan?” the Headmaster asked kindly, taking his eyes briefly off of the
Potions master.

“F-fine, sir,” Seamus replied, going red. He scurried back onto the stool.

“Headmaster!” Professor Snape paled, his eyes widening as the elderly wizard turned his gaze
back to him. “I didn't know you were stopping by.”

“After our conversation last week I thought I'd pop in to see how things were going,” he
replied calmly, standing up. Professor Dumbledore smiled at the first years and clapped his hands.
In an instant everything was packed away. “I think, Severus, that this lesson is dismissed for the
day. If you would kindly wait in my office.”

Professor Snape's mouth snapped shut and he shot a disgruntled look towards Hermione and
Harry. Without another word he swept out of the dungeon, the door banging loudly on his way out.
Hermione gave a shuddery gasp and wiped her eyes, which were now filled with tears, as everyone
slowly began to leave. Harry, Ron, Neville, Shae, and Fay were instantly around her, asking is she
was alright.

“A word, Miss Granger?” Professor Dumbledore called out over the noise. “And Mr. Potter as
well.”

Fear shot through Hermione as she shakily left her group, Harry right beside her. Her mind was
racing a mile a minute as she tried to think of how she could explain what happened. Professor
Snape was in the wrong; he was a teacher and should not be allowed to bully students like that. But
yet, it seemed no one ever went to another teacher to complain about his ways. Maybe that was how
it was in the wizarding world, and since Hermione and Harry fought back they would be the ones
getting trouble.

Professor Dumbledore placed a gentle hand on both Hermione and Harry's shoulder and led them
to a corner of the room. Hermione was visibly shaking as he waited for the rest of the first years
to clear out. She glanced over at Harry and felt slightly better at how frightened he looked - she
wasn't the only one who was scared.

“Now,” Professor Dumbledore began softly once the door was closed, “I don't think
there's been a time when first year students lost eighty points in a single lesson.”

“Please sir,” Hermione protested.

Professor Dumbledore raised a hand and she fell silent. “The eighty points will be returned to
Gryffindor immediately and neither of you have detention,” he stated. “Professor Snape should not
have acted out like that and I am very sorry that the two of you, plus Mr. Longbottom, have had to
deal with his temperament.”

“So you knew Snape was acting like this?” Harry accused, his eyes narrowing. Hermione gasped at
Harry's tone, they were sure to lose more points because of it.

“*Professor* Snape has been dealing with some things that have been troubling him. I had a
talk with him a while ago about his ways but it seems like he fell back in the rut he was in.”

“That doesn't give him the right to treat students like that!” Hermione exclaimed. She
couldn't believe the Headmaster was making excuses for Professor Snape; it was like he was
protecting him. “He's an adult, we're just kids.”

“He is also very human,” Professor Dumbledore reminded softly. “And humans make mistakes, do
they not?”

Hermione flushed, feeling scolded. She didn't agree with Professor Dumbledore's logic,
but she could see what he was getting at.

“There is another matter I would like to discuss with you two,” he continued on. “I've heard
about the bond you and your fellow first years have begun to develop and I want you to pass on a
message to them. Under *no* circumstances will any of you do anything to try and get back at
Professor Snape.” He stared pointedly at Hermione and she felt a jolt of fear run through her.
Professor Dumbledore couldn't possibly know about her and Ron's plan to use the Leg-Locker
Curse on Professor Snape at the Quidditch match. They had made sure no one was around when they
discussed it and kept it a secret.

“Yes sir,” Harry said quietly.

“Very good,” Professor Dumbledore smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. “So, eighty points returned
to Gryffindor and as for you, Mr. Potter - ten points to Gryffindor for standing up for a friend in
need.”

Harry flushed and grinned at Professor Dumbledore, thanking him.

“I think that's all there was to say,” Professor Dumbledore said. “Unless either of you had
anything to add…?”

“I don't believe so, sir,” Harry said, glancing at Hermione.

Hermione frowned, there was one thing that had been bugging her, “Professor, how did you manage
to get here without any of us seeing you?”

Professor Dumbledore and, to Hermione's surprise, Harry chuckled. “I believe Mr. Potter can
answer that question for you, Miss Granger.” Hermione's head whipped around to look at her
friend. Harry rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and Professor Dumbledore laughed. “Professor
Snape will be anxious for me to return to my office, I'm sure, so I'll be taking my leave.
Enjoy your weekend.”

Professor Dumbledore walked past Hermione and Harry and out the door, nearly bumping into Ron on
his way out. Ron quickly apologized and bolted into the dungeon. “You didn't get into trouble,
did you?” he asked immediately.

“No, we didn't,” Harry said happily, going over to the table they had been sitting at. He
grabbed his and Hermione's bag, handing Hermione's to her, and began to lead the three of
them out of the dungeon. “Dumbledore returned the eighty points back to Gryffindor.”

“Plus the ten that Harry received,” Hermione added, hurrying after him. In a split-second
decision, she reached out and grabbed Harry's arm, yanking him around to face her and pulling
him into a tight hug. “Thank you so much, Harry.”

Hermione felt Harry stiffen and awkwardly pat her on the back. “Y-you're welcome,” he
stammered once she pulled back. Ron was staring at the two of them like they had gone mad and
Hermione felt herself redden.

“No one has ever stood up for me like that,” she hastily explained. “I-I didn't mean to - I
got carried away.”

“It's fine, it's about time someone stood up for you,” Harry shrugged as Ron laughed at
Hermione's awkwardness. “You're my friend, Hermione. I don't like seeing my friends
hurt.”

Hermione felt herself flush as Harry led the way up to the Entrance Hall, butterflies
mysteriously erupting in her stomach and her pulse racing.

Ron hung back with her and waited until Harry was out of ear-shot, “Still having issues with
possibly attacking a teacher?”

**<><><>**

“Remember, it's *Locomotors Mortis*,” Hermione reminded, pushing her brown curls out of
her eyes. It was late Saturday evening and Hermione and Ron were in Professor Flitwick's
classroom practicing the Leg-Locker Curse. Oliver Wood had called another one of his `last minute
practices' and Harry was sure to be busy for the majority of the night. Hermione jumped at the
opportunity and dragged Ron to go practice. Since the Potions lesson the previous day, all
hesitation of attacking Professor Snape flew out the window.

“I know,” Ron snapped, his ears going red. They had been practicing the curse for a little over
an hour and Ron had only been able to do the spell once. Hermione couldn't understand why Ron
was having such a hard time with it; he had been saying the incantation correctly and doing the
proper wrist movement.

“Try again,” she instructed, feeling her body tense immediately as Ron raised his wand at
her.

“*Locomotors Mortis.*” After a moment of hesitation, Ron flicked his wrist and shot the
spell at her. She felt it whiz past her and she glared at him. “I'm sorry! I just can't do
it.”

“Yes you can,” she sighed. “You did it fine at the beginning - I don't see why you
aren't able to do the spell now.” Ron's ears went pink and he looked away, mumbling under
his breath. Hermione wanted to scream in frustration. “This was *your* idea, Ron! If you
aren't going to take this seriously then let's just go.”

“I am taking it seriously!” he snapped.

“Then why can't you hit me?” Hermione shot back. “This is for Harry's *safety*,
Ron!”

Ron glared furiously at Hermione and looked away, mumbling again. Hermione's eyes narrowed
at him and she took her wand, shooting off the spell.

“Hermione!” Ron roared as his legs snapped together. He lost his balance and fell backwards,
landing hard on his bottom.

“Start taking this seriously! I know you can do the spell.” Hermione crossed her arms and stared
at Ron as he tried to stand up. She eventually took pity on him and used the counter curse. “Tell
me why you can't hit me.”

“You're a girl,” Ron mumbled after regaining his balance, looking embarrassed.

“Excuse me?” Hermione raised an eyebrow.

“Mum always taught me that it is disrespectful to turn your wand on a girl,” Ron explained,
scowling. “And you're a girl.”

Hermione's eyes widened as Ron looked away, his neck beet red. She had read that if a witch
or wizard was against casting a spell, depending on how much resistance was put up, the spell could
miss without the caster intentionally doing it. It was now clear to Hermione that Ron had been
doing this because of how his mother had raised him. “That's sweet,” Hermione said softly,
smiling. “And I respect your mum for teaching you that. But this could be a matter of life and
death for Harry. You *have* to practice on me.”

“Right,” he nodded, picking up his wand and pointing at her.

Hermione saw the hesitation in Ron's eyes and sighed, “*Locomotors Mortis.*”

Ron yelped, his arms waving around like a windmill as he tried to keep his balance. He managed
to stay upright this time and shot a smug grin at Hermione. “Don't think of me as a girl,”
Hermione advised, releasing Ron from the Leg-Locker Curse. “I'm just Hermione, you're
friend. Not a girl.”

“Right. Just Hermione… just Hermione,” Ron chanted to himself. He once again raised his wand
and, with a look of determination, shot off the spell. Again, it whizzed by Hermione.

“Ron!”

“I'm sorry!” Ron exclaimed. “But you're Hermione. My friend - *who is a girl*!”

“*Locomotors Mortis,*” Hermione sighed.

Ron fell face first on the floor with an angry cry. Hermione had a feeling that Ron would only
be able to succeed in performing the Leg-Locker Curse correctly if she provoked him, making him
angry so he wouldn't think of her being a girl. It was a low thing to do, but if it meant that
Harry would be somewhat safer, she would do it.

Hermione performed the counter curse and watched Ron scurry up. He shot and missed again and
Hermione hit him with the Leg-Locker Curse immediately. She began to make her way over to the
redhead as he fell on his bottom. “Don't be afraid to hit me,” she scolded. “I respect what
your mum has taught you but you have to let it go for this. I'll even promise not to tell her
if -”

“Locomotors Mortis!”

Hermione let out a surprised yelp as the Leg-Locker Curse hit her mid-step. Her legs locked
together instantaneously and shot out from under her. She fell face first to floor with a
groan.

“I did it!” Ron crowed, looking extremely pleased with himself.

“You did!” she exclaimed, smarting from the fall but happy that Ron had finally got it. She
rolled onto her back so she could sit up; her skirt had ridden up to her upper thigh and she
hastily pulled it down. “Now perform the counter curse.”

“I think I'll wait a bit,” he replied.

“What?”

“Payback for all the times you got me,” Ron said, grinning cheekily. He pointed his wand to his
own legs and performed the counter curse, frowning when his legs didn't unlock. Hermione rolled
her eyes. “Why isn't it working?”

“You can't use it on yourself,” she explained, exasperated. “Professor Flitwick told that to
us first thing when we began to learn it.”

“He did not.”

“He did so,” Hermione quipped. “If *someone* had been listening, he would've
known.”

“Unstick my legs,” Ron ordered.

“Not until you do mine,” she shot back.

“If you go first you'll just hit me with it again once I'm up,” he accused.

“I will not!”

“You did before.”

“That was to get you to hit me.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “It worked, didn't it?”

“I'm not releasing you until you do it for me,” Ron said, narrowing his eyes.

“Well that's just too bad because the same goes for me,” Hermione huffed, crossing her arms
stubbornly.

Hermione and Ron glared at each other, both not backing down and releasing the Leg-Locker Curse
on the other. Fortunately, the door opened a few minutes later and Professor Flitwick entered the
classroom, his eyes filled with laughter as he took in his two students. “Well now,” he squeaked,
smiling, “it seems both of you have gotten the hang of the Leg-Locker Curse.”

“Yes, Professor,” Hermione said, scowling at Ron. “But Ron won't do the counter curse.”

“Tattle tale,” Ron hissed quietly.

“Now, now, let's play nice.” Professor Flitwick pulled his wand out and performed the
counter curse on Hermione and Ron. They both got up, stilling glaring at each other, as Professor
Flitwick began speaking again. “It's nearly curfew so I'm going to have to send you back to
Gryffindor Tower. Anytime you need a space to practice, don't be afraid to ask!”

Hermione allowed the tiny professor to usher them out of the classroom and towards the staircase
that led to Gryffindor Tower. The two of them walked silently up to the tower, both of them too
angry at the other to say anything. Once inside, Hermione made a beeline to where Shae was sitting
with a magazine and Ron went over to Seamus and Dean's game of Exploding Snap.

“Where were you?” Shae asked, idly flipping a page of her magazine.

“Helping Ron with the Leg-Locker Curse,” Hermione replied, plopping down on the sofa beside
her.

Shae took one look at her friend's expression and began to laugh, “That didn't go well I
take it?”

“That's an understatement.” Hermione rolled her eyes and stared into the fire. Shae giggled
and went back to her magazine.

After around half an hour, the portrait opened and Oliver Wood came rushing into the common
room, followed by the rest of the Quidditch team. Oliver looked around the room wildly, his eyes
roaming over all the students. Once he caught sight of Hermione, his eyes brightened and a huge
grin surfaced. “There she is!” he exclaimed loudly, scurrying over to Hermione. “The Gryffindor
Quidditch team's saviour!”

Oliver's exclamation caught the attention of everyone nearby and they stopped to watch him
grab Hermione by the arm and yank her into a standing position. Harry came up beside Oliver and
gave Hermione an amused smile as Oliver pulled her into a tight hug, swinging her around.

“What's going on?” Hermione demanded, trying and failing to get out of the Keeper's
grasp.

“Snape backed out of refereeing the match!” Angelina Johnson squealed, clutching Katie
Bell's arm excitedly. The two girls had grins to match Oliver's and were bouncing slightly
on the balls of their feet.

“What's that have to do with Hermione?” Dean asked. By now a small crowd was gathered around
Hermione and the Quidditch team. Ron nudged his way beside Harry, looking confused.

“Because of the little stunt Hermione pulled in Potions yesterday,” Oliver began gleefully,
“Dumbledore forced Snape to step down and let Madam Hooch do her job!”

“No way!” Fay cried out.

“Yes way!” Oliver nodded. “Madam Hooch will be refereeing the match now!”

Everyone began to chatter excitedly over the news, all of them very happy to hear that Madam
Hooch was back. Seamus even went over to Hermione to congratulate her.

“I didn't do anything,” she protested, turning to Oliver. “I didn't pull any
`stunt'! Professor Snape was giving us an unfair pop-quiz which no one would be able to pass. I
mentioned it to him and he went mad!”

“Either way, you saved us!” Oliver said, catching Hermione again and swinging her around. “Oh, I
could kiss you right now!”

“Please don't,” Harry said immediately.

“Do you know how wrong that would look?” George shuddered.

“Bloody disgusting,” Fred agreed, nodding. “Not that there's anything wrong with you,
Hermione.”

“It's just picturing Oliver with anyone is enough to make a person retch.” George finished,
grinning wickedly at the team captain.

Oliver glared at the twins, making a rude gesture at them as he let go of Hermione. Hermione
quickly jumped to safety behind Harry and Ron and watched as Oliver turned on his heel and
practically skipped up the boy's staircase. After a few moments of excited chatter, everyone
went back to what they were doing around the common room, leaving Hermione, Harry, Ron, Shae, and
Fay standing in a circle by the sofa.

“That's great news, mate!” Ron grinned, clapping Harry on the back. He glanced at Hermione
and grimaced, then back at Harry. Since they had been planning to keep the Leg-Locker Curse a
secret, she knew that this was Ron's way of apologizing for how he had acted in Professor
Flitwick's classroom.

“It definitely makes things a lot less stressful,” Harry agreed, stretching.

“Less stressful?” Fay asked, raising an eyebrow. Hermione stilled, glancing at Harry and Ron.
Both boys looked like deer caught in the headlights, their eyes wide as they realized their slip
up.

“Revision!” Hermione said quickly. “Exams start in less than three months so we've been
slowly starting to prepare for them.”

“Oh,” Fay said slowly, looking at Hermione suspiciously. “That's not a bad idea actually.
Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” Hermione smiled. She could feel Harry and Ron staring incredulously at her and
ignored them.

“Can you help me too?” Shae asked. “Three months is a little too soon to start revising for my
liking, but if you'd be willing to helping poor, little old me…”

Hermione laughed as Shae trailed off and batted her light blue eyes at her. “Fine,” she grinned,
“I'll help both of you.”

“Thanks!” Shae exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Hermione's Homework Help has begun!”

Hermione's smile dropped and she glared at the redhead as Harry and Ron snorted with
laughter. “I think it's time for bed, Shae,” she glowered.

“Say goodnight, Shae,” Fay laughed, dragging Shae up the girl's staircase.

“Revision?” Ron gaped at Hermione once the two girls were out of sight. “Are you mad? Exams
start in June!”

“Would you rather I told them about Fluffy, the Philosopher's Stone, and Snape?” Hermione
challenged. “Besides it's a perfect time to start revising. We have to be prepared! Failure
means taking first year all over again - do you want that?”

“No,” Ron grumbled. “But February is too soon to start revising.”

“Well too bad, we've got Shae and Fay with us now,” Hermione sniffed. “And besides, being
extra prepared never hurt anyone, right Harry?”

Harry's eyes widened as both Hermione and Ron looked at him expectantly. “N-not really,” he
stammered, looking between the two of them nervously. “I'm just going to go get started on some
homework…”

Harry trailed off, practically running up the stairs to his dormitory. Hermione huffed and
grabbed her bag, going over to a table near the fire. She pulled out the notes for Harry for that
week and placed them on the table.

“We're going to have to watch Snape a lot closer now,” Hermione murmured to Ron, making sure
to keep her voice down in case someone overheard her. “I bet he's hurting because Professor
Dumbledore made him step down from refereeing and is just itching to find a way to get even.”

“If he tries anything at the match, do what you did last time,” Ron said quietly. “It worked,
just make sure to get there fast enough.”

Hermione nodded and sat down, pulling out a spare piece of parchment to begin making a revision
chart. Sighing, Ron reluctantly sat down across from her and pulled out his own homework. “Sorry
about earlier,” he muttered, not taking his eyes off of his textbook.

Hermione looked up. “I'm sorry for getting you angry like that,” she replied.

Harry reappeared at the bottom of the stairs, effectively cutting off the rest of their
conversation. He sat down beside Hermione and pulled out an Astronomy chart, biting the end of his
quill as he tried to find where he had left off.

Making sure that Ron was busy with his own schoolwork, Hermione slid the notes over to Harry.
Harry took them and put them in his bag silently, giving Hermione a smile. “Thanks,” he
whispered.

Hermione returned the smile, “Anytime.”

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{****}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**End Note: Done another chapter! Yay! We're about three-quarters of the way done PS!! Not
entirely sure when the next chapter will be up, I'm still working on it.**

**Remember, reviews keep the writer motivated!**

**Kelci**

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15. Fourteen: Suspicious Behaviour
----------------------------------



**Fourteen**

**“****Suspicious Behaviour****”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit. ALSO, I used some of the text from the**
**Philosopher's Stone** **and that most definitely belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

**Note One: A big thanks to** **the_scribbler** **for being my awesomesauce
beta/editor!**

**Note Two: I worked really hard to get this chapter out today. As you all should know, Deathly
Hallows part 2 has its midnight premiere tonight - marking the end of Harry Potter. When the
seventh book was released, I knew I still had the movies to look forward to, but now it's
really over.**

**This chapter is dedicated to J.K. Rowling****. If it hadn't been for her vision of a
scrawny little boy walking down the aisle of a train, none of us would've ever known about this
wonderful world. Even though the last few books (to some of us) were less than pleasing, she still
put in over ten years of dedication to make this world so vibrant and believable - thank
you.**

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**22 February, 1992**

Hermione awoke the morning of the long awaited Quidditch match with a nervous excitement
fluttering around in her stomach. She knew that there shouldn't be anything to be nervous about
for the match, but with Harry's track record Hermione knew it was unwise to just assume
everything would be alright. After getting dressed with the rest of the girls, and making sure Fay
had the *Potter for President* banner, Hermione waited with Fay, Shae, and Parvati as Lavender
finished getting ready in the bathroom - the blond always took the longest to get ready in the
morning. *Finally*, Lavender emerged from the bathroom, looking fresh and perky, and the girls
made their way down to the common room together.

Harry and Ron were waiting for Hermione when they arrived - Harry already dressed in his
Quidditch robes. Harry's eyes glinted with excitement as he greeted the girls, a grin
permanently etched into his expression. Hermione smiled, happy to see Harry so excited.

The first years made their way down to the Great Hall together, Harry getting `*good
lucks*' and `*Go Gryffindor**s*' on the way. Every time someone yelled
something out to him, Harry would grin sheepishly and duck his head shyly.

“You are too cute!” Shae squealed, reaching up to playfully pinch Harry's cheek.

“Stop it,” he said, going red and swatting her hand away.

“And shy, too!” Lavender joined in and the two girls spent the entire trip down to the Great
Hall messing with Harry, pinching his cheeks and ruffling his hair. Hermione rolled her eyes,
annoyance creeping up on her as the boys laughed at how flustered Harry was getting. She marched
ahead of the group, not understanding nor caring as to why she felt so irritated. Fay caught up to
Hermione and nudged her playfully, giving a mysterious smile.

“What?” Hermione asked warily.

“Oh nothing,” she replied, her smile growing into a knowing smirk.

The air in the Great Hall was abuzz with excitement as the first years marched over to
Gryffindor table. Hermione sat down beside Harry with Ron on his other side as the others began to
get their breakfast. Harry shot them both a grateful smile as he rubbed his sore cheeks,
“Thanks.”

Hermione began to fill up her plate with bacon and eggs, content on just listening to the
conversations around her. She knew she could get used to the atmosphere in the castle right before
a match; everyone was so energetic and high spirited.

“Look at Snape,” Ron hissed suddenly.

Hermione and Harry both turned to look towards the Head table. Professor Snape was sitting in
his usual spot in between Professor McGonagall and Professor Quirrell as he shoved the food on his
plate around violently, a nasty expression on his face. Every once and a while he would glance to
the side and give Professor Quirrell the meanest glare Hermione had ever seen.

“Why is he looking at Quirrell like that?” Harry wondered.

Hermione shook her head, feeling sorry for Professor Quirrell. The poor man was trembling so
hard that Hermione could see it from halfway down the Gryffindor table. Professor McGonagall leaned
across Professor Snape to speak to Professor Quirrell, only to scare him so badly that he knocked
over his goblet. He jumped up, waving his wand to clean up the mess that had been made, and
sprinted out of the Great Hall.

“What was that all about?” Ron asked, looking back to Professor Snape.

“Search me,” Harry said, going back to his breakfast.

Fred and George snuck up behind Harry, nudging him on the back. “Come on, Harry,” Fred said.
Harry jumped, startled, and accidentally flung some of his scrambled eggs all over the table. “Time
to go, Oliver wants us at the pitch in fifteen.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Ron groaned, looking down at his plate. The eggs had landed in his pile of
ketchup and splattered the red goo all over.

“Go,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. She tossed a few napkins over to Ron so he could clean
up.

Harry nodded and downed the rest of his pumpkin juice, grinning and thanking everybody as they
wished him good luck one more time. Professor Snape finished his breakfast just as Harry and the
Weasley twins left the Great Hall. Hermione saw him get up and she nudged Ron as he passed by them.
From where Hermione was sitting, she could see him go through the Entrance Hall and out into the
yard.

“I think he's heading to the stadium,” Hermione said, starting to feel panicky - Professor
Snape's pace had been quite fast.

“This early?” Ron frowned. Not even the hard core Quidditch fans had left to get good seats
yet.

“Do you think he's planning something?”

“Dunno.” Ron grabbed two pieces of toast stood up. “Let's go.”

Hermione nodded and hopped up, following Ron out of the Great Hall. “Snape wouldn't be dumb
enough to try something again, would he?” Hermione called, having to job to keep up with Ron's
pace. “He just got in trouble with Professor Dumbledore!”

“Snape tried to *kill* Harry last Quidditch match in front of the entire stadium,” Ron
pointed out, a piece of toast hanging from his mouth. “I don't think Dumbledore will make much
of a difference.”

“But he's the Headmaster!” Hermione protested. “He defeated Grindelwald and -”

“Hermione!”

Hermione and Ron stopped and turned, surprised to see Sally-Anne chasing after them. Ron gave
her an incredulous look as she skidded to a halt in front of them, clutching her side. “Are you
going to the stadium?”

“Er, yes?” Hermione said slowly, glancing at Ron. He rolled his eyes and motioned for her to
hurry up. “We're really in a hurry, Sally-Anne…”

“Want to sit with me for the match?” she asked brightly, ignoring Hermione's last comment.
**+**“It'll be fun! We can both cheer on Hufflepuff together!”

Ron made a funny noise and Hermione glared at him. “Gryffindor's playing Hufflepuff,
Sally-Anne,” she reminded softly. “I have friends playing - I'll be cheering for them.”

“Come on, Hermione,” Ron moaned, shifting anxiously as he glanced back to the stadium.

“I'm sorry. I'll sit with you next match - I promise!” Hermione called, turning on her
heel and chasing after Ron, who had already began running towards the stadium.

“Is she for real?” Ron asked once Hermione had caught up to him.

“She just wants to spend time together,” Hermione defended.

“Right,” Ron grunted. They reached the stadium and bolted up the stairs, Hermione panting and
gasping as they finally reached the stands. She collapsed down into an aisle seat, looking around
the stadium for the Potions master.

Professor Snape was easy to spot - he was the only other person in the entire stadium. Hermione
felt her face heat up as she yanked Ron down into the seat beside her, trying to make it seem that
they had just decided to come early to get good seats. Judging from how intense Professor
Snape's glare was from across the pitch, Hermione figured that they had failed in doing so.

“He's just sitting there,” Ron huffed, sounding annoyed.

“Watching us,” Hermione grumbled. “So don't look so suspicious.”

“I'm not acting suspicious,” Ron snapped, crossing his arms. “Just watch him and make sure
that he doesn't try and do anything before the match starts. Think you can reach his side in
time if he does?”

“I think so,” Hermione whispered, not liking the fact that Professor Snape still hadn't
taken his eyes off of them.

The two Gryffindors sat in awkward silence, trying to act nonchalantly as possible with
Professor Snape glaring at them from across the pitch. After what felt like an eternity, Hermione
could hear the faint voices of the rest of the students making their way down to the stadium. She
let out a breath and slumped down into her seat, relieved that they wouldn't be alone with
Professor Snape for much longer. People slowly began to enter the stadium and it wasn't long
until Hermione spotted her friends.

“Is this where you two have been the entire time?” Lavender asked, leading the Gryffindor first
years up the stairs.

“We wanted to get good seats,” Hermione shrugged as Lavender, Parvati, Seamus, and Dean filed
into the row in front of her.

“Hermione, these seats suck,” Shae said bluntly, brushing past her to go sit on the other side
of Ron. Fay and Neville followed after her.

“You suck,” Ron retorted.

“Real mature, Ron,” Fay snorted, rolling her eyes. Shae grinned and stuck her tongue out at him
as she sat down.

Hermione laughed and shook her head, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off her
shoulders as her friends sat around her. She glanced across the pitch to see that Professor Snape
had stopped glaring at her and Ron. His gaze was now fixated on Professor Quirrell, who was sitting
a few rows in front of him.

“You think Quirrell would learn to stay away from Snape,” Ron muttered dryly, watching as
Professor Quirrell's fidgeting made the people around him move out of his way. Hermione nodded,
biting her lip worriedly.

“Look!” Parvati exclaimed suddenly, pointing across the pitch. “Dumbledore's here!”

“What?”

Hermione craned her neck to look where Parvati was pointing. Sure enough, Professor Dumbledore
was climbing the stairs up to where Professor Snape was sitting. Hermione gave a relieved chuckle
as the Headmaster took a seat beside the Potions master. She and Ron grinned at each other. Not
even Professor Snape would be stupid enough to try anything while sitting right beside Professor
Dumbledore.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Lee Jordan's voice echoed magically throughout the stadium a few
moments later, “welcome to the first Quidditch match of the new year!”

The stadium erupted into a deafening roar, Hermione cheering and clapping as loud as she could.
Fay and Shae unrolled the banner and began to wave it around wildly. As Lee introduced the teams,
Hermione allowed herself to relax for the first time in a long while. She sat back into the seat
and cheered when Gryffindor flew into the stadium. Madam Hooch made her way onto the pitch and blew
her whistle and the teams were off in a blur of scarlet and yellow.

“Ouch!” Ron yelped a few minutes into the match. Hermione looked back and groaned, seeing
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle settling in behind them.

“Sorry about that, didn't see you there Weasley,” Malfoy sneered.

“Sure you didn't,” Ron growled, rubbing the back of his head and glaring at the blond.

“Ignore him,” Hermione told Ron. He nodded and turned back around to watch the match, a scowl on
his face.

“You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?” Malfoy piped up loudly
moments later. Hermione groaned again, knowing that either Ron or Neville was going to be the
target of Malfoy's bullying.

“No one cares what *you* think, Malfoy” Shae snapped, turning her head to glare at him.

“It's the people they feel sorry for,” Malfoy continued on, ignoring Shae. “See, there's
Potter who's got no parents, then there's the Weasley's, who have no money - you should
be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains.”

Hermione turned around, ready to defend her friends when Neville beat her to it.

“I'm worth t-twelve of you, Malfoy,” Neville stammered, standing up and turning to face him.
Everyone paused to stare at Neville in shock, no one expecting him to stand up for himself as
Malfoy roared with laughter.

“Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying
something,” Malfoy managed to choke out. Crabbe and Goyle were holding onto each other they were
laughing so hard.

Ron went bright red and stood up quickly, whirling around to face Malfoy. “I'm warning you,
Malfoy - one more word…”

“Ron!” Hermione tugged on his sleeve, making sure she had a good grip on him so he wouldn't
try and attack Malfoy. “Stop it, you're giving him what he wants!”

“Look!” Fay screeched suddenly, making everyone jump. “Look at Harry!”

Fear shot through Hermione and she screamed, terrified that Harry's broom might be cursed
again. She looked up in time to see Harry go into a spectacular dive. She gasped, letting go of
Ron; bringing both hands up to her mouth as she watched him streak towards the ground.

“Oh look Weasley, you're in luck - Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground,”
Malfoy cackled.

Ron snapped and, before Hermione had time to grab hold of him, launched himself over his seat
and on top of Malfoy. Malfoy gave a surprised cry as he was wrestled to the ground. Crabbe and
Goyle stopped their laughter and began to growl, flexing their arms threateningly as they closed in
on Ron.

“Stop it, you two!” Hermione moaned, looking back and forth between Ron and Malfoy fighting and
Harry in a nose dive; he was getting extremely close to the ground and didn't show any signs of
stopping. She knew she wouldn't be able to physically stop the fight and didn't know what
to do; the nearest teacher was halfway across the stadium so she settled for watching both of her
friends fearfully.

Neville took a deep breath and clamoured over his seat, leaping at Crabbe just as he was about
to grab Ron from behind. He managed to grab hold around his neck and the two of them toppled into
Goyle. It was a flurry of punches and kicks as Crabbe and Goyle ganged up on poor Neville. Some of
the older students began to crowd around them and some fifth year Gryffindor boys began to work on
pulling everyone away from each other.

“We won!” Fay screamed, not at all paying attention to the drama behind her. Hermione turned
away from Ron and Malfoy to see Harry on the ground, holding up the Snitch triumphantly as the
stadium's cheering escalated. “I can't believe it! Harry caught the Snitch in less than ten
minutes!”

Ron was pulled, kicking and screaming, off Malfoy; his nose bleeding profusely, while Malfoy
struggled against the older boy who was holding him back, his left eye almost swollen shut and
already bruising from where Ron had repeatedly punched him. Dean and Seamus hurried over to Ron,
pulling him away from everyone and down to the pitch to try and see Harry and away from Malfoy.
Hermione and Shae hurried over to Neville's side. He was slumped down over the seat, clearly
unconscious, as Crabbe and Goyle were dragged off.

“Excuse me! What's going on here? Coming through - I'm a Prefect! Move along!”

Percy appeared second s later, his eyes widening as he saw Neville's body. He immediately
ordered someone to pick Neville up and was off, sprinting down the steps.

“I can't believe Neville stood up for himself,” Shae said.

“He remembered what Harry had said to him,” Hermione stated, smiling.

“He did?” Fay asked, finally paying attention to what was going on around her. Hermione rolled
her eyes and led the other two girls down the stairs, trying to get through the crowd that had gone
onto the pitch. She could see Harry being hoisted up on Fred and George's shoulders, hands
reaching up from the crowd to pat him.

“You didn't notice?” Shae asked incredulously. “He took on Crabbe and Goyle by himself!”

“No, I didn't.”

“You are way too into Quidditch,” she said, shaking her head.

Hermione left Shae and Fay to try and get closer to Harry. The crowd around them was so tightly
packed that she had to pull back in fear of being trampled. Ron, Dean, and Seamus were on the
outskirts of the crowd, grinning proudly at Harry. Ron's face was covered in blood but he
didn't seem to mind as he gazed off dreamily.

“Party in the Gryffindor common room!” George crowed. Everyone cheered and slowly began to leave
the stadium. Fred and George put Harry back on the ground and dragged him off to the change
rooms.

“Come on,” Hermione said, pushing Ron towards the exit. “Harry will be a while. Let's go to
the Hospital Wing to get your nose fixed. We can see Neville there too.”

**<><><><><>**

Madam Pomfrey clucked her tongue with annoyance when she took in Ron's bloody appearance,
grabbing his chin so she could look at him properly. “Fighting during a Quidditch match,” she
grumbled, pulling out her wand and tapping it on his nose. Ron flinched as the blood disappeared
and she let go of his face.

Hermione sat in a chair beside Neville's bed. He had still been unconscious when they
arrived at the Hospital Wing; apparently Crabbe got in a good swing and knocked him out cold.
“He'll be okay, right?” she asked as the witch began to root through a cupboard.

“Oh he'll be fine, just a slight bump on the head,” she replied, taking out a vial filled
with a green potion. She uncorked it and handed it to Ron. “He'll be up in a few hours, now
drink!”

Ron took the flask and drank it, grimacing at the taste. “It doesn't taste good, does it?”
Madam Pomfrey asked, raising an eyebrow. “I bet you'll think twice before getting into another
fight, now won't you?”

“Yes ma'am,” Ron rasped, gingerly touching his nose. He didn't wince and smiled brightly
at Hermione.

“Alright, the two of you can go back to Gryffindor tower,” Madam Pomfrey said, shooing them out
of the Hospital Wing. “Mr. Longbottom needs his rest. He'll be back tomorrow morning.”

The door snapped shut in front of them and Hermione sighed, turning to Ron. “Neville was right,
you know,” Ron stated, knocking gently on his newly healed nose. “Madam Pomfrey *is*
wonderful. My nose doesn't hurt, not even a little bit!”

“You're going to re-injure it if you keep hitting yourself,” Hermione scoffed, rolling her
eyes. They made their way up to Gryffindor tower, giving the password to the Fat Lady. As soon as
the portrait opened, they were hit with how loud the common room was. Food and drinks were laid out
on the tables everywhere and people were crammed around each other, talking about how amazing the
Quidditch match had been.

“Where did all this food come from?” Hermione asked, looking around. The only other time she had
seen food in the common room was during Halloween, but that had been because of the troll and food
had been sent up.

“Fred and George probably nicked it from the kitchens,” Ron said, grabbing a pastry from a table
and biting into it.

Hermione frowned, not liking the response, and declined the offer for a pastry of her own. She
glanced around, trying to find Harry's mop of black hair. “I don't see him,” she said after
scanning the entire common room.

“That's weird,” Ron frowned. “Oy! Fred! George! Where's Harry?”

Fred and George glanced up from their conversation with Lee and shrugged. “He was still in the
change rooms when we left,” George explained.

“He's probably still outside,” Hermione said. “Let's go find him.”

The two made it down to the Entrance Hall when they saw Harry stride into the castle. “There you
are!” Ron said, hurrying down the steps to meet him. “You were brilliant today! I don't think
anyone's caught the Snitch so fast before! And I gave Malfoy a black eye! And Neville took on
Crabbe and Goyle by *himself* - he's still out cold in the Hospital Wing but he took both
of them on! Stood up for himself, he did!”

“What's wrong?” Hermione interrupted Ron, seeing the anxious look in Harry's eyes.

“We were right about Snape and the Philosopher's Stone,” Harry said quietly, glancing around
to make sure they were alone.

“What?” Ron asked.

“We can't talk here,” Harry said, hurrying up the stairs. Hermione and Ron followed after
him and into an empty classroom. They closed the door and checked to make sure no ghosts were
hiding before Harry turned to them. “Snape cornered Quirrell in the Forbidden Forest after the
match.”

“What?” Hermione gasped. “How do you know?”

“I saw Snape heading into the forest while I was putting away my Nimbus,” Harry explained
impatiently. “So I hopped onto it and followed him. Quirrell was already waiting for Snape there.
He said something about not getting why Snape wanted to meet in the forest and Snape told him he
wanted to keep their conversation private.

“Snape asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy - and said something about Quirrell's
`hocus-pocus'… I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of
enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell which Snape needs to
break through.”

“That's why Professor Quirrell looked so terrified of Snape today,” Hermione said, her eyes
widening. “Snape must be trying to force him into helping him get the stone! This is really big -
we have to go to Professor Dumbledore.”

“I doubt he'll believe us, Hermione.” Harry shook his head stubbornly. “He'll just think
that this will be our way of trying to get back at Snape. Besides, students aren't supposed to
know about the Philosopher's Stone. How are we to explain how we know about it? Or how we know
about Flamel, or Fluffy? It'll all be traced back to Hagrid and he'll get sacked.”

Hermione gave a frustrated growl and crossed her arms, knowing that Harry was right. They were
placed in between a rock and a hard place and no matter what they chose to do there'd be some
repercussion.

“So as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape the stone will be safe?” Ron asked grimly. He shook
his head. “It'll be gone by the end of the week.”

**<><><><><>**

**2****7** **March, 1992**

Professor Quirrell had more of a backbone than Hermione had originally thought. After a month of
worrying and fretting over when Professor Snape would finally get the stone, Hermione had to say
that she was pleasantly surprised that the stone was still safe and sound. Every time she, Harry,
or Ron would pass the third floor corridor that housed Fluffy they would press an ear to the door
to make sure the growling dog was still inside (alone of course, they wouldn't do such a thing
if in the company of another first year).

Hermione also began to crack down on starting up the revision tables for exams. Fay and Shae had
been happy to start revising with Hermione back in February, but they never actually got around to
doing any of the work. *Hermione's Homework Help* (Shae still called it that every time
Hermione helped with schoolwork) had been temporarily disbanded; Hermione being too frustrated and
anxious about the stone to go after the rest of her friends to study. That didn't mean she was
going easy on Harry and Ron, though. They were going through everything that she was going through
and knew that if it wasn't for her, they probably wouldn't even pick up a page of notes
until a week or two before exams begin.

Ron still liked to complain whenever Hermione brought out the revision charts, but the teachers
were on Hermione's side. They were piling on the homework like never before; every lesson had
something due and by the end of it there was usually a thing or two due for the next one.
Hermione's nights were usually spent in the library now, splitting her time between revising
and keeping up to date with her homework and the synopsis she still wrote for Harry.

“I'll never remember any of this,” Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill in
defeat. Hermione, Harry, and Ron were spending their afternoon in the library, trying to get as
much homework done as possible. “It's no *use*” Ron's voice hitched and cracked at the
end of his sentence, making him flush and grab his throat. Hermione and Harry snorted, not
bothering to hide their laughter. Ron's voice had begun to start cracking a lot recently and it
was extremely amusing for the other two to see him get so flustered.

“Shut it, you two,” Ron grumbled, picking up his quill again.

Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to the revision chart she was making up for Ron. They
worked in silence until she heard Harry say, “Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?”

Hermione looked up to see Hagrid shuffle into view, shifting nervously and holding something
behind his back. Hermione frowned at his suspicious behaviour, “What do you have there,
Hagrid?”

“Jus' a book,” he avoided. “What're you lot up ter? Yer still not lookin' fer
Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?”

“We found him ages ago,” Ron said smugly, leaning back in his chair. “*And* we know all
about what *Fluffy*,” his voice cracked again, making Harry snort, “is guarding. It's the
Philosopher's-”

“*Shhh!*” Hagrid hissed, glancing around nervously. “Don' go shoutin' about it,
what's the matter with yeh?”

“There are actually some things we want to ask you,” Harry said quickly, “about what's
guarding the stone apart from Fluffy -”

“SHH!” Hagrid hissed again. “If yeh wanna talk come an' see me later. I'm not
promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', but don' go ramblin' about stuff yeh
shouldn' know where yeh could be heard. They'll think I've told yeh-”

“We'll visit this afternoon,” Harry promised, cutting off Hagrid's rant. Hagrid shuffled
off and Harry turned to Hermione and Ron, raising his eyebrows.

“I wonder what Hagrid was hiding behind his back,” Hermione said thoughtfully.

“Do you think it has anything to do with the stone?” Harry asked.

“I'll go check,” Ron said quickly, having had enough of homework for that day. He got up and
hurried over to the section Hagrid had been in. A minute later he came back with a pile of books in
his arms.

“Dragons!” he whispered, dropping the books unceremoniously onto the table (Hermione hissed at
him). “Hagrid was looking up stuff on dragons! Look at this - *Dragon Species of Great Britain
and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno*. ”

“Hagrid told me he always wanted a dragon,” Harry said quietly, grabbing a book and pulling it
closer to him. “He told me that the first time I met him.”

“But it's against our laws,” Ron said, shaking his head. “Dragon breeding was outlawed by
the Warlocks' Convention of 1709 - don't look at me like that Hermione, everyone knows
that. You can't train them, they're too dangerous. My brother Charlie has some horror
stories about the ones in Romania.”

“Then what on earth is Hagrid up to?” Hermione asked, impressed that Ron had actually been able
to remember an important date in history.

“Let's go visit him to find out,” Harry said, shoving all of his homework into his bag.

Hermione returned the books to their proper place as Harry and Ron quickly cleaned up their
table. She grabbed her bag as soon as she returned and the three hurried out of the library,
walking as fast as they could to get to Hagrid's cabin.

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**End Note: The ball has been set in motion, ladies and gentlemen. It won't be long now
until this year is over!**

**Read and review!**

**Kelci**

-->



16. Fifteen: Blown Away
-----------------------



**Fifteen**

**“****Blown Away****”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit. ALSO, I used some of the text from the**
**Philosopher's Stone** **and that most definitely belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

**Note One:** **I felt so bad for making all of you wait so I'm giving you the
un-beta'd version. As soon as my beta sends me the clean version, I'll repost it.**

**Note Two: I want to take a moment and say thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favourited,
and put Her Story on alerts. It really means a lot to make and it's you people who keep this
story going. I love you all!**

**Note Three: Sorry for the wait guys! Real life has been hectic but I'm slowly getting
back into my writing schedule. I'm starting school in a few weeks so I'll finally be in a
steady schedule and have a set amount of time in my day to write! I hope you all enjoy this
chapter!**

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**27 March, 1992**

Hermione frowned as Hagrid's hut came into view, the drawn curtains and smoke billowing from
the chimney a stark contrast to the beautiful day outside. She, Harry, and Ron glanced at each
other as they made their way towards the hut. As they got closer, Hermione could see that the
curtains were being clamped together with something. Her frown deepened, that wasn't suspicious
*at all*.

Harry reached the door first and rapped loudly on it. Fang, Hagrid's boarhound, began to
bark madly from inside. “Who is it?” Hagrid called.

Harry glanced warily at Hermione and Ron, “It's us, Hagrid.”

The door opened a quarter of the way and Hagrid motioned for them to enter. Harry went first,
followed by Ron. Hermione went in after the redhead, clutching the door and blinking in surprise as
she was hit with an intense blast of heat. The hut was so hot that it was almost suffocating and
Hermione was forced to take off her robe almost immediately.

“Tea?” Hagrid offered cheerfully, shutting the door behind her.

They refused, it being way too hot for a warm beverage. Hagrid busied himself with making his
own tea and Hermione, Harry, and Ron tossed their robes onto an oversized armchair, their sleeves
already rolled up.

“So yeh wanted to ask me somethin'?” Hagrid asked, sitting down at his little table.

“Yes,” Harry said, getting straight to the point. He, Hermione, and Ron had clambered onto the
chairs surrounding his tiny table. “We were wondering if you could tell us what's guarding the
Philosopher's Stone - apart from Fluffy.”

“O' course I can't,” Hagrid frowned at Harry.

“Come on, Hagrid!” Ron protested, frustrated. His tie had been loosened and the first few
buttons of his white shirt were undone. “We already know about Fluffy and that others are
protecting it.”

“And that's exactly why yeh lot shouldn' know any more,” Hagrid retorted. “It's
dangerous jus' knowin' about the stone. And besides, I don't even know meself.”

Hermione huffed as Ron continued to argue with Hagrid. It was stifling in the hut and she knew
that arguing with the giant wouldn't get them anywhere. Wiping the perspiration that had begun
to form on her brow, Hermione decided to try a different tactic.

“Come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you *do* know - after all you know
everything that goes on around here.” Hermione flashed Hagrid her most winning smile, using the
voice that Viola always used when she tried to convince someone to do things her way. “We only want
to know *who* had done the guarding. Who Professor Dumbledore trusted enough to help - aside
from you, of course.”

Hagrid shifted in his seat, the whiskers of his moustache lifting up in a smile. Hermione smiled
back, she could tell immediately that her change of tactic worked and couldn't help but feel a
little smug.

“It can't hurt to tell yeh, I suppose,” Hagrid conceded. Harry and Ron beamed at Hermione.
“Let's see … he borrowed Fluffy from me… then some o' the teachers did enchantments.”
Hermione grabbed a paper from the table as he began to finger off the names, fanning it on her
face. “Professor Sprout - Professor Flitwick - Professor McGonagall - Professor Quirrell…
Dumbledore did somethin' himself o' course… oh - and Professor Snape.”

“Snape?” Harry, very red in the face, gasped.

“Yeh, Professor Snape.” Hagrid nodded. He paused, frowning, “Yer still not on abou' him, are
yeh?”

“Of course!” Ron cried. “If you heard wh-”

“Professor Snape is protectin' the stone - he ain't about to steal it.” Hagrid said
firmly, pointing a sausage finger at them. “Yer lookin' for somethin' that ain't there
and *yeh need to stop*.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, not believing Hagrid's argument for a minute. Professor Snape had
shown on numerous occasions that his loyalty to Professor Dumbledore was questionable. And if he
was a part of protecting the stone, it was more than likely that he knew about the other obstacles
- except how to get past Fluffy.

Harry's glasses slipped off his nose and he grabbed them, wiping off the sweat. “Can we open
a window?” he asked, replacing the glasses. “It's too hot in here.”

“I'd rather we didn',” Hagrid said, shifting his gaze over to the fire.

They all looked at the large fire and Ron gasped. “Hagrid!” he exclaimed. “Where did you get
that?”

“Won it,” Hagrid replied proudly, reaching over to stroke the fire. “Down at the pub las'
night. Bloke seemed rather glad to be rid o' it, actually.”

Hermione stood up to get a better look at the fire. From inside the inferno, she could make out
a black egg that was being propped up. “Hagrid,” she said, squinting from the heat, “is that a
*dragon's* egg?”

“It is,” he sighed dreamily.

“What are you going to do when it hatches?” Harry asked, staring at the fire warily. “Dragons
are illegal, Hagrid.”

“Well I been doin' some readin' - got *Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit* out
o' the library the other day.” He stopped stroking the fire and reached to the table, holding
up a book that had been on it. “It's a bit out o' date but it's all the same. Says here
to keep `em in the fire, `cause their mothers breathe on `em. They also have the different eggs in
here - I got a Norwegian Ridgeback here.”

Hagrid beamed at the three of them, clearly expecting them to praise him. “Hagrid, dragons
breathe *fire*,” Hermione reminded, biting her lip. “You live in a *wooden* house.”

He ignored her and went back to stroking the fire lovingly. Hermione glanced at Harry and Ron,
all three of them realizing that they wouldn't be able to get anything more out of Hagrid.

“We should go,” Harry sighed, getting up. Hermione and Ron followed suit, grabbing their robes.
“There's still a lot of homework we have to do.”

Hagrid's head shot up suddenly, his black eyes widening in fear. “Yeh won't tell anyone,
will yeh?” he asked quickly.

“Of course we won't,” Hermione soothed. “But you should really reconsider this, Hagrid. Not
only is keeping a pet dragon illegal, it's also very dangerous. You could get in trouble
*and* be hurt in the process.”

“I'll be fine,” Hagrid dismissed, going to the door. He opened the door halfway and
Hermione, Harry, and Ron slipped out.

As soon as they were outside Hermione sighed, relishing in the cool air blowing on her face.
There was no discussion between them as they walked back to the castle, all three of them lost in
thought. This was the last thing that they needed, Hermione thought with a scowl, another thing to
worry about.

The next month went by so fast that Hermione couldn't even remember how she managed to get
through it. Every day she'd wake up with dread in her stomach, just waiting for a sign that
Professor Snape managed to get past Fluffy or a note from Hagrid that said the dragon had
hatched.

Hermione was so caught up in trying to keep up with her school work, revising for exams, and
trying to act like there was nothing worrying her that she didn't realize she hadn't
written home in weeks until her parents wrote to her asking if there was anything wrong. She had
just finished writing about how much schoolwork everyone had been getting when she paused, frowning
down at the parchment in front of her.

It was then that Hermione realized just how much she was keeping a secret from everyone, not
just her parents but from her friends she had made at Hogwarts as well. She dropped the quill,
sitting back in her chair with a sigh and staring at the mostly blank parchment in front of her. If
she couldn't even explain why she was so paranoid to her own friends that lived in this magical
world, how on Earth was she supposed to explain all that to her parents? They wouldn't take
kindly to knowing that Harry was a marked target, Hogwarts was the home to one of the most prized
possessions in the wizarding world and that a *professor* was trying to steal said possession,
or that the school's groundskeeper was harbouring an illegal dragon egg to keep as a pet.

Hermione scowled and crumpled up the parchment, tossing it into the rubbish bin that was by her
table. Unsure of what to write to her parents, and no longer in the mood to revise, she gathered up
her things and stuffed them into her bag. She got up, slinging her bag over her shoulder and walked
briskly out of the library. A good night's sleep was what Hermione needed to clear her mind so
she could write a well versed, perfectly normal letter home.

**<><><>**

**23 April, 1992**

As usual, the next morning Hermione was one of the first students to arrive in Charms. She sat
down at her usual table she shared with Fay and pulled out a spare piece of parchment. She still
had no idea what to write to her parents, but knew that if she didn't write it soon the letter
would never be written. Hermione tapped her quill on the table, trying to think of how to start the
letter when the door to the classroom burst open.

“Hermione!” Harry and Ron rushed into the room, both of them flushed with excitement.

“What is it?” she asked.

Ron brandished a small note, waving it in front of Hermione's face. “It's from Hagrid!”
he exclaimed.

Hermione grabbed the note from Ron and looked at it, her stomach sinking as she read the untidy,
rushed scrawl.

*It's hatching.*

“It was just delivered.” Harry said, panting.

“Come on,” Ron grabbed Hermione's Charms textbook and motioned to the door, “let's
go!”

“Go where?” she frowned, taking the book back.

“To Hagrid's hut,” Ron rolled his eyes.

“Excuse me?” Hermione felt her eyes bulge. “*Now?*”

“Yes.” Harry nodded. “Hagrid needs us.”

“What about Charms?”

“We'll skip it,” Ron said, waving his hand dismissively.

Hermione felt her mouth drop open. “Skip Charms? *Skip* Charms - no!” she exclaimed. “We
can't just miss a lesson!”

Both boys groaned. “Hermione,” Ron protested, “this is a dragon *hatching* we're
talking about. When will you ever see this again in your life? Never!”

“I don't care,” she ground out, fixing both of them with a glare. “We can't just skip a
lesson! We can't *afford* to skip a lesson. Exams start in just over a month, we need this
precious time to revise and make sure we know everything that we've been taught. Need I remind
you two that if you don't pass exams you won't get into second year?”

“How can I forget? You remind us all the bloody time,” Ron snapped, glaring furiously at
Hermione.

“Maybe I wouldn't have to remind you if you actually took this seriously,” she snapped back.
Realizing she was losing her temper, Hermione took a deep breath. “Besides, Professor Flitwick will
notice we're gone. If it's found out we skipped Charms to go to Hagrid's - which we
aren't - we'll be putting him at risk. They could find out about the egg and Hagrid will
get in trouble.”

“She's right,” Harry sighed. Ron turned to glare at him. “We'll go visit him at lunch
break, I'm sure the dragon will still be hatching by then.”

“I agree,” Hermione nodded, smiling at Harry. He returned the smile and went to sit down at the
table next to hers. “*But* we're only staying for lunch break. We still have Defense
against the Dark Arts to go to.”

“I know, I know,” Ron huffed and slumped down into the seat beside Harry.

Hermione rolled her eyes and stuffed the note into her textbook. Students began filing into the
classroom soon after, laughing and energetic. Fay plopped down beside Hermione and nudged her, “Why
the long face?”

“What?”

“You look worried,” she explained, pulling out her textbook and placing it on the table.

“It's nothing,” Hermione said evasively.

Fay pursed her lips but didn't say anything. Professor Flitwick came prancing into the
classroom moments later, calling everyone's attention. Hermione stared at him, forcing herself
to stop thinking about Hagrid and the dragon egg.

“Today will be a revision period,” Professor Flitwick squeaked. Hermione felt Ron's glare on
her. “I'll be going around making sure you're doing the spells properly. Now, I want all of
you to go over *Cero Ventus* as much as possible, getting the right amount of air flow through
your wand can be quite tricky and I guarantee it will be on the exam!”

“Want to be partners?” Fay asked as soon as Professor Flitwick began to walk around the
room.

“Sure,” Hermione grinned, picking up her wand.

The two girls took turns performing the different spells they had learned throughout the year.
Hermione had no trouble with them and Fay only messed up on *Cero Ventus*, putting too much
power into the charm so that a large burst of air shot right into the back of Shae's head.

Shae whipped around, her curls mussed from the wind, and glared at them. “Fay!” she snapped.

“Sorry!” Fay laughed, quickly putting down her wand. “I mean - Hermione did it!”

“I did not!” Hermione protested, giggling.

“Yeah, Hermione did it,” Shae rolled her eyes. She turned back and continued working on
*Wingardium Leviosa* with Lavender.

Fay picked up her wand again and pointed it in front of her, flicking her wrist sharply,
“*Cero Ventus*.”

Another large burst of air came from her wand and all the books and parchment that were on their
table were blown to the floor. Hermione and Fay scrambled out of their seats, Hermione glaring at
Harry and Ron when she heard them chuckle, to gather their things up.

“Why can't I get this?” Fay grumbled, slamming her textbook down in front of her. She, like
Hermione, hated failing.

“I think you're flicking your wrist too much,” Hermione offered. She picked up her own wand
and pointed it at the books. With a slight flick, she murmured, “*Cero Ventus.*” A light
breeze came from her wand and only the loose pieces of parchment were ruffled.

Fay tried again, greatly reducing the movement in her wrist and produced the same breeze
Hermione conjured up. “I did it!” she grinned. “Thanks, Hermione.”

The rest of the lesson passed by quickly. Professor Flitwick was thrilled that Hermione and Fay
had nothing too important work on (Fay just had to remember to work on keeping her wrist movements
small) and gave five points to Gryffindor.

The bell rang for lunch and Harry and Ron sprang up from their table. Hermione quickly gathered
her things up and followed the boys of out of the classroom, waving goodbye to Fay and Shae.

“Finally!” Ron groaned, nearly jogging down the stairs. “I thought that would never end.”

“It wasn't that bad,” Harry shrugged.

They reached the Entrance Hall and pushed passed the crowd of people trying to get into the
Great Hall for lunch. “Hey Hermione,” Ron said, opening the doors to the courtyard, “can I have the
note Hagrid wrote?”

“Why?” Hermione asked, reaching into her bag to grab the Charms textbook.

“I want to keep it for memory's sake,” he said. “The -” he lowered his voice, “-dragon will
most likely almost be hatched now and I want that note so I can remember that I had the chance to
be there from the start.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's dramatics but pulled the textbook out. She flipped open
the cover and froze, stopping in mid-step. “Uh-oh.”

“What?” Harry asked, turning around.

“There can't be an uh-oh,” Ron said. He and Harry hurried over to Hermione. “Fix the
uh-oh.”

Hermione licked her lips and looked up at them, tapping her finger on the writing that
wasn't hers.

“*This book is p**roperty of Fay Dunbar*.”

**<><><>**

**25 July, 2016**

“Oh this is getting good,” Karen squealed, trying to grab the journal from out of Lindsay's
hands.

“Hush, let me read,” she chastised, moving out of Karen's reach.

“You've been reading for long enough,” Karen pouted. “It's my turn now.”

“It's been forty-five minutes,” Lindsay rolled her eyes. “You got to read for over two hours
yesterd -”

Lindsay cut herself off, her eyes widening as she heard the jingle of the front door being
opened. She stared at Karen fearfully, her heart pounding in her chest as they listened. They had
locked the front door before reading, she was positive. A moment later a soft, muffled voice could
be heard from out in the shop getting closer to the break room.

“Yes I know… It's going to take some time, it's not even been… I know what I'm
doing, alright?”

“It's Mrs. P!” Karen whispered.

Lindsay and Karen scrambled up off the sofa, Karen knocking her mobile phone off the arm of the
sofa in her haste to get up. It crashed against the rubbish bin loudly, making Lindsay jump at the
loud noise. Karen swore and dove after her phone as Lindsay quickly stuffed the journal into her
purse.

The door opened just as Lindsay zipped her purse and Mrs. P stood there, her own mobile held up
to her ear and staring at the two girls in surprise. “I have to go,” she said to whoever she was
speaking to on the phone. She disconnected the call and put her mobile into the pocket of her
jeans. “What are you girls doing here?”

Lindsay's mind went blank and she stared at Mrs. P in fear. “I forgot my mobile,” Karen said
quickly, picking up the phone. “Found it. What are you doing here?”

“Since inventory is tomorrow I came to get things ready,” Mrs. P replied, looking at the two
girls with sharp eyes. Lindsay shifted uncomfortably, she could tell that Mrs. P didn't believe
Karen's story. “Well, since you're both here, you can help me get ready for tomorrow.”

“I -” Karen protested. Mrs. P raised an eyebrow and Karen sighed. “Sure thing, Mrs. P.”

“You'll be paid overtime, don't worry.” Mrs. P rolled her eyes, putting her purse down
on a chair. She glanced around the room, taking in the soda cans and bag of chips that were on the
table. Lindsay gulped, hoping that the older woman would think they were from that day. “We'll
start with the storeroom. I want all the genres together so it'll be easier for us
tomorrow.”

Lindsay and Karen followed Mrs. P into the storeroom, their eyes going to the box that held the
journals. Karen immediately went to the corner the box was in, claiming that area as hers. Lindsay
tried not to show her relief as she went over to the opposite side. As long as Mrs. P didn't
see the journals, they'd be safe.

The air was tense as the three of them worked, no one speaking much. Lindsay realized that
*every* box was going to be searched tomorrow during inventory and a spike of fear shot
through her. They had managed to keep the journals a secret up until now by hiding them in a
corner, but they'd be exposed if they didn't do something quick.

Lindsay wasn't even sure why she wanted to keep the journals a secret so badly now. She was
so captivated by the story, even though she'd heard it before (at least from what they've
read so far), that she didn't want anyone else to know about them. It was almost like she had
begun obsessing over them, they were on her mind night and day and she was always thinking of ways
she could sneak in to get more reading done.

She supposed it was because she knew they were doing something that could get them in trouble,
maybe even fired, that made her so riled up about them. Or it could be the way it was written, so
similar to the books she grew up loving yet having little things changed over time… it made the
series come alive again. Gave the world of Harry Potter a breath of fresh air that made her feel
like a young girl again, reading the series for the first time. Lindsay didn't know where this
would go, or what she would accomplish by reading the journals but she felt like she didn't
have a choice anymore - she *had* to finish reading them.

Mrs. P excused herself to go to the bathroom after about an hour. Karen paused, waiting a few
minutes before rushing over to where Lindsay was working. “What are we going to do?” she hissed.
“The journals will be found tomorrow if we don't do something.”

“I don't know,” Lindsay replied. “We have to find a place to hide them.”

“I got it!” Karen snapped her fingers. “Those lockers in the break room that no one ever uses.
We can use them to hide the journals from now on.”

“Mrs. P doesn't come in until noon tomorrow,” Lindsay nodded. “We'll have time to move
them before she notices.”

“It's a plan,” Karen grinned. She gave a small laugh and shook her head. “When did we get so
obsessed?”

“I…don't know,” Lindsay replied. “This started out fun and adventurous, our own little
secret. Now it just feels like…”

“Like we have to finish the journals, no matter what.” Karen finished. “It's still fun to
read, but… there's more to it now.”

“It's kind of a scary feeling,” Lindsay gave a weak laugh. “But you should get back to your
section, Mrs. P will be back soon.”

“Right,” Karen nodded. She quickly shoved the box that held the journals onto the stack she had
already gone through and grabbed the next box. Mrs. P returned moments later and they went back to
work, the tense feeling still surrounding them.

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**End Note: And here's the end of the chapter! This is one of the major changes I'm
making to the canon version so drop a review and let me know what you think of it!**

**I created the spell Cero Ventus. It's Latin for `to create wind'… at least that's
what google has led me to believe. If this is wrong, please feel free to correct me!**

**I can't wait to hear what all of you think!**

**Kelci**

-->



17. Author's Note
-----------------



Hey guys, Kelci here. I know that this isn't a chapter but I just want to update you all on
what's been going on in my life. I recently started school for broadcasting and I have had next
to no spare time since starting. I'm trying to divide up my (almost non-existent) free time but
the writing is coming along extremely slow. As of right now, I don't know when the next chapter
will be out. It is about



18. Sixteen: Busted
-------------------



**Chapter** **Sixteen**

**“****Busted****”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit. ALSO, I used some of the text from the**
**Philosopher's Stone** **and that most definitely belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

**Note One: A big thanks to** **the_scribbler** **for being my awesomesauce
beta/editor!**

**Note Two: For the sake of this chapter, I implemented curfew times. Here it is. For**
**first** **to** **fourth** **years, curfew is** **8pm weeknights and 10pm
weekends.** **For** **fifth** **to** **seventh** **years, curfew is** **9:30pm
weeknights and 11pm weekends****. Of course the one exception is students heading to
Astronomy.**

**Note Three: This is one big mother of a chapter, and hopefully the rest of the chapters will
be like this. I hope this makes up for the lack of chapters** **that'll be coming your way
when I'm in school.**

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**26 July, 2016**

Lindsay collapsed on the sofa with a groan, throwing her arm over her eyes. She could hear Karen
opening the locker that was assigned to her when she first started the job (although she never used
it) and slamming it shut. The two girls had successfully transferred all of the journals into their
lockers during the morning, finishing just before Mrs. P came in. The rest of the day was hectic -
the shop was unusually busy for a weekday and the people who came in to do inventory made things a
huge mess. It took half an hour longer to close up the shop because of how messy it was, and then
they had to convince Mrs. P that they were fine closing up themselves. Needless to say, Lindsay was
exhausted by the time they were ready to begin reading.

“Your turn to read,” Lindsay mumbled, feeling her friend plop down beside her. “My eyes hurt
from all those barcodes.”

“I don't have a problem with that,” Karen said cheerfully. She was the lucky one who got to
help customers instead of working on inventory. “It's been a while since I was this hooked on
something.”

“No doubt. It's a lot more interesting than what we're reading in school! I actually
couldn't sleep last night for the longest time. I was thinking about what's already
happened in the story. It's not predictable like most of the stuff in school that we're
forced to read.” Lindsay said.

Karen looked at her and thought about what her friend had said. “I think that it'll be neat
to see if Fay ends up getting detention instead of Neville,” she replied, flipping to where they
had left off. “Or if she goes down to get the Philosopher's Stone with Harry, Ron, and
Hermione.”

“If she does, it's predictable. I mean…can't you see it already? Harry seemed to have a
nose for getting into trouble and it's pretty obvious that Hermione wasn't always
**+**thrilled with what Ron and Harry got up to - but she wanted their friendship so**,** off
she goes…” Lindsay commented, pulling her arm down to look at Karen. “You know, the way they found
out about Nicholas Flamel was much better than the whole chocolate frog thing. I mean…..
*seriously* - Hermione is supposed to be this super genius girl and she forgot someone as
important in wizarding history as Nicolas Flamel? I don't think so.”

“J.K. Rowling is but a mere human,” Karen sighed dramatically.

Who leaves questionable plot holes. I'm glad this H. J. kept Sally-Anne in - I always
wondered what happened to her.” Lindsay said, stretching. “Although I'm not sure how her
character is going to grow. What do you think? Think she'll play nice?”

**+** “Hell**,** no” Karen scoffed. “Hermione's not keeping her promise to include
Sally-Anne *at all*. She may be a Hufflepuff but I'm pretty sure that girl will have some
catty nastiness in her in years to come.”

“Yeah… I wonder what she'll do.”

“I have a feeling it'll be pretty bad. She already used guilt during the Christmas holidays
to make Hermione see her way and she's *eleven*.” Karen sighed. “Next topic. Snape… I love
him.”

Lindsay laughed and shook her head. “You've always had a crush on Snape though.”

“True,” she grinned. “Alan Rickman...”

Lindsay laughed harder and punched her friend in the arm. “Nasty, he's old enough to be your
grandpa!”

“That wouldn't stop me,” Karen grinned wickedly.

“Ew,” Lindsay rolled her eyes. “Just read, you gold digger.”

**<><><><><>**

**23 April, 1992**

“*This book is property of Fay Dunbar*.”

“You've got to be kidding me,” Ron groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation.

“How'd this happen?” Harry asked.

“We must have gotten our books mixed up after Fay blew them off the table,” Hermione moaned.

“It shouldn't matter too much, should it?” Ron asked, glancing anxiously towards
Hagrid's hut. “The note wasn't descriptive enough for anyone to figure out.”

“Fay's observant,” Harry said, running a hand through his hair. “I know she's already
noticed something's up.”

“And if she finds that note it'll just confirm her suspicions,” Hermione nodded. She
shuddered, thinking of how much Fay had bothered her when Hermione was set on stopping Harry and
Ron from getting into trouble back at the beginning of the year. “She can be a bit of a nag when
she knows you're up to no good.”

“Gee, I wonder how that feels,” Ron said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“What is *that* supposed to mean?” Hermione flushed, glaring at Ron.

“We need to find Fay and switch books,” Harry interrupted, glaring at both of them and stopping
the argument before it began.

“But - the dragon…” Ron protested weakly.

“I'll go get the book and you two go see Hagrid,” Hermione sighed, putting the textbook back
into her bag. “If this was any normal day, you two wouldn't have come with me anyway.”

“That's kind of harsh,” Harry winced.

“But it's true,” she pointed out. “Besides, Fay always goes back to the dorm during lunch to
put away her books and grab the ones we need for the afternoon. I'll go find her and get the
book back.”

“What if she's already read the note?” Ron asked.

“I… don't know,” Hermione shook her head, readjusting the strap of her bag. “I'll think
of something if it happens. Now go, and don't tell Hagrid that Fay has the note. I'll
either meet you at Hagrid's or in the Great Hall. Oh - and don't think you can skip Defence
against the Dark Arts, either.”

“Yes, mum,” Ron rolled his eyes.

“Come on,” Harry said, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards Hagrid's hut.

Hermione sighed and turned back towards the castle, speed walking past the Great Hall and up the
stairs. Fay emerged from behind the portrait of the Fat Lady just as Hermione arrived on the
seventh floor. “Hey, Hermione,” she greeted, slinging her bag onto her shoulder. “What are you
doing?”

“I think we got our textbooks mixed up in Charms.” Hermione squeaked out. She cleared her
throat, forcing herself to remain calm. “I ended up with yours.”

“Are you alright?” Fay asked, glancing curiously at Hermione.

“Fine,” Hermione nodded, extremely grateful that her voice didn't crack again.

Fay cast one more curious look at Hermione before turning to the Fat Lady, giving the password.
Hermione mentally scolded herself. She had to stay calm and act normal, *especially* around
Fay. The brunette was already suspicious of Hermione as it was and with how she had just acted, she
was sure that it didn't help her cause.

Once up in their dorm, Fay went to her trunk and opened it. Hermione grabbed Fay's textbook
from her bag and handed it to her, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. She had to wonder if Fay
was able to hear her heart; she wouldn't be surprised if she could.

Fay put her textbook back into her trunk and picked up Hermione's. Just as she was handing
it to Hermione, a dazed expression went across her face. She paused, blinked, and then snapped the
book back into her chest. “I'll give you the book back,” she said, her expression now one of
determination, “on one condition.”

Hermione inwardly groaned, dread seeping through her. She had a feeling she knew what the
condition would be. “Yes?” she asked anyway.

“You tell me what you, Harry, and Ron have been up to lately.”

Hermione stared at Fay, feeling caught off guard. She was positive that Fay had seen the note
Hagrid had written and wanted to know what it meant. Relief swept through her as she realized that
her friend hadn't opened up the book or read the note. However, dread overpowered the relief
when what Fay had demanded set in.

“I'm waiting,” she snipped.

“What makes you think we're up to something?” Hermione asked, trying to stall for time. Her
mind was racing with possible excuses she could use. Unfortunately, she knew Fay would see through
all of them.

“I'm not an idiot, Hermione,” Fay retorted. “The others may not have realized that you lot
have been up to something, but I have.”

Hermione huffed and glared at Fay; she couldn't think of a single excuse that her friend
would accept. “I can't tell you,” she finally muttered.

“Can't tell me?” she echoed. “Why not? I'm your friend, aren't I?”

“Of course you are.”

“Then why can't you tell me?” Fay demanded. “Friends *trust* each other!”

“But I do trust you!” Hermione protested. “Please, Fay. Just trust *me* on this. If it was
something simple, I would tell you. But it's not. It's dangerous and -”

“It's something illegal, isn't it?” Fay asked quietly.

Hermione snapped her mouth shut, realizing the little bit she had spilled was enough for Fay. It
suddenly occurred to her that she had no idea what they were arguing over. Was Fay demanding to
know about the dragon egg hatching or about Fluffy, the Philosopher's Stone, and what they knew
about Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell? Hermione knew Fay had begun to wonder what they were
up to long before they saw Hagrid in the library. She sighed, this argument just got a lot more
complicated.

Fay decided what way the conversation was going to go as she exhaled loudly, her nostrils
flaring a tiny bit. She pulled Hermione's textbook away from her chest and grasped the cover,
opening it. Hermione watched with bated breath as Fay reached for the note and picked it up,
reading it.

“What's hatching?” she asked, drawing her eyes away from the note to stare at Hermione.

“I can't tell you,” Hermione said again.

“Hermione,” Fay warned, her voice low, “what's hatching?”

“Fay,” Hermione pleaded. She could feel her defences start to weaken and knew if she wasn't
careful, she'd tell Fay about the dragon, “*I can't tell you*! Please, understand this
could get someone into *serious* trouble if they were found out!”

“So I should go to a teacher then?” Fay threatened.

“What?” she cried. “No!”

“Then tell me!” Fay shouted. She tossed the book onto her bed and grabbed Hermione, pulling her
into the bathroom. Grasping her by her shoulders, Fay spun her around so that she was looking at
herself in the mirror. “*Look* at what this secret is doing to you!”

Hermione looked at her reflection in the mirror, *really* looked at it. Her brown hair was
as bushy and frizzy as it always was, curling just below her shoulders and sticking out in random
places from her run up to Gryffindor Tower. As she looked closer, Hermione saw the huge bags that
were underneath her eyes. They were so dark they almost looked like bruises. She looked paler than
usual as well, which in turn made her two front teeth (which were quite a bit larger than they
should be) stand out even more. Hermione winced.

“Oh dearie,” the mirror tutted, “you need to go out and have some fun. Relieve some stress!”

Hermione started, surprised at the mirror. She had heard from Lavender and Shae that the mirror
commented on their appearances but, since Hermione had no need to really use a mirror, she never
had the experience.

“Let me help you,” Fay said, dropping her arms and staring at Hermione in the mirror. “I promise
not to tell a soul about what it is you three are hiding. I'll even owl my brother to see if he
can tell me how to do an Unbreakable Vow if it helps.”

“Fay, you can't tell *anyone*,” Hermione stressed. “Not Shae. Not Lavender. Not Seamus.
*Nobody.*”

“I promise,” Fay vowed.

Hermione quickly went back to the bed and grabbed the note, stuffing it into her pocket. She
rushed back into the bathroom and closed the door, locking it. She couldn't believe she what
she was about to do, and hoped that Harry, Ron, and *especially* Hagrid wouldn't be too
angry with her for it.

“The note is from Hagrid,” she whispered. She decided that Fay was only going to know about the
dragon egg. It was much too dangerous for her to know about the Philosopher's Stone and
she'd have to talk to Harry and Ron about letting Fay in on the secret before doing
anything.

“The groundskeeper?” Fay asked.

“Yes,” Hermione nodded. “About a month ago we noticed him sneaking around the library in the
dragon section and he told us to come visit him later on. So we did and we found out that he had
won a dragon egg at a pub the previous night.”

“A dragon egg?” Fay gasped. “So the note means…”

“That the egg is hatching,” Hermione finished. “Harry received the note at breakfast this
morning.”

“So that's why they were in such a hurry,” Fay muttered. “When Harry got his letter he
shoved it at Ron and they both had a little fit and ran out of the Great Hall.”

“Boys,” Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes. “They were dead set on skiving off Charms to go see
Hagrid - well Ron was. He wasn't too happy when Harry saw things the way I did.”

“This is dangerous, Hermione. Dragons grow fast - *really* fast. And Hagrid's hut is
small and made of wood. It'll only be a matter of time before it's burnt to the
ground.”

“I know,” Hermione nodded. “I haven't talked about this to Harry and Ron yet, but I'm
positive we'll be trying to convince Hagrid to let the dragon go.”

“It shouldn't be that hard, should it?”

“Are you kidding?” Hermione gave an unladylike snort. “Hagrid is already attached to it.
It'll be very difficult.”

“Are Harry and Ron at Hagrid's now?” Fay asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said, checking her watch. They still had some time before they had to be at
Defence against the Dark Arts. “How about we go bring them some lunch? That way they can know that
you know.”

“Is it alright for me to know?” Fay asked. She unlocked the bathroom door and went out, grabbing
her bag. Hermione put her Charms textbook into her own trunk, grabbing her books she'd need for
the afternoon.

“Let's find out, shall we?” Hermione said.

The two girls left their dorm and made their way down to the Great Hall. Hermione felt like a
weight had been lifted off of her shoulders, and some of the stress she felt earlier vanished. She
just hoped that Harry and Ron weren't too angry at her for telling Fay. She had no other option
and knew that Fay could be trusted.

“Who walks around with a dragon egg in their pocket?” Fay burst out suddenly as they neared the
Entrance Hall.

“I don't know,” Hermione shrugged. “Hagrid said he got it in a pub and Daddy told me once
that most of the people who go to one are shady.”

“Well it's strange, that's for sure.”

“We're going to have our work cut out for us,” Hermione groaned. “It'll take a lot to
convince Hagrid to give the dragon up.”

“How are we going to do that?” Fay asked.

“I haven't the slightest idea,” Hermione shook her head. “I think that if anyone will be
able to get through to Hagrid it'll be Harry. They're close and I know Harry's word
means a lot to Hagrid - *ow!*”

Hermione flinched as Fay suddenly slapped her arm, *hard*. She glared at the brunette, but
she was too busy staring wide eyed in front of her. Rubbing her arm, Hermione looked and froze.
Malfoy was halfway up the staircase they were on, staring at both of them with wide eyes. A small
grin started to form on his pale face.

“What are you staring at, Malfoy?” Fay snapped.

Malfoy's grin grew into a full**-**blown smirk as he brushed past the two girls,
continuing up onto the second floor.

“Oh Lord,” Hermione breathed, her stomach tensing. How much had Malfoy heard? “This is bad.”

“Very bad,” Fay agreed. “I think he heard about the dragon.”

Both Hermione and Fay agreed that it wasn't the smartest idea to go visit Hagrid afterwards.
They both went into the Great Hall instead, sitting as close to the doors as they possibly could
and began to eat. Hermione didn't really have an appetite; she kept seeing that awful smirk
Malfoy had on his face over and over again in her mind.

Hermione ended up replaying what had happened in her mind multiple times and by the end of lunch
was positive that Malfoy had heard what they had said about the dragon. Even if he hadn't heard
the entire conversation, she knew that if it involved Harry even a little bit, Malfoy would be
chomping at the bit to get him into trouble. By the time she and Fay had to leave for Defence
against the Dark Arts, Hermione was nearly having a panic attack.

“Just calm down,” Fay whispered to her, making sure no one around them was listening. She led
Hermione to the back of the classroom (something that Hermione would've protested if she
hadn't been panicking) and sat her down. “Maybe Malfoy didn't hear anything.”

“Why would he act like that, then?” Hermione asked.

“To get a rise out of us?” Fay suggested. “Either way, we can't do anything about it now.
We'll just have to trust that Malfoy didn't hear anything and be *extremely* careful
from now on.”

“You're right,” Hermione breathed. “There's nothing we can do about it now.”

“Now we just have to work even harder to convince Hagrid to let it go,” Fay stated.

Harry and Ron ran through the doors just as the bell rang, looking flushed. Hermione could see
their eyes sweep over the classroom, looking for her. Harry gave her a curious look when he saw her
with Fay at the back of the classroom. He couldn't do anything about it though; the only open
seats were in the middle of the classroom.

“T-t-take your s-seats,” Professor Quirrell stuttered. Harry and Ron sat down and pulled out
their things. Hermione focused on the stuttering man as he began the lesson, noticing that he was
beginning to look very haggard and worn out. She frowned, wondering if Professor Snape did anything
more to the poor professor.

As soon as the lesson was over, Hermione and Fay packed their things up in record time. Slinging
her bag over her shoulder, Hermione raced towards Harry and Ron. “We have to talk,” she said,
grabbing Harry's arm. Fay was right behind her, ushering Ron out of the classroom.

“Hermione!” Harry gently tugged his arm from her grip. “What's going on?”

“I'll tell you later,” she replied. The hall was filled with students and she knew that they
wouldn't be able to talk there. She led them to the only place she knew would be safe - the
library.

“Will you tell us what's going on?” Harry asked once Hermione stopped. She had led them to a
table in the back of the library that was hardly ever used.

“I know,” Fay said immediately, looking between Harry and Ron.

“You know…” Ron trailed off, looking horrified. “Hermione!”

“Shh!” Hermione hissed. The last thing they needed was Madam Pince interrupting them. “I had to
tell her, there was no other choice.”

“You could've just said it was nothing,” he suggested.

“Do you really think I'd just accept that?” Fay asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Has the dragon hatched?” Hermione asked Harry.

“It hatched just before Defence against the Dark Arts,” Harry replied. “Hagrid's calling it
Norbert.”

“Oh you weren't kidding Hermione,” Fay groaned. “This will be difficult.”

“We have bigger problems now,” Hermione said, waving her hand dismissively. “I think Malfoy may
have overheard us talking about the dragon.”

“What?” Harry and Ron cried. Hermione and Fay shushed them.

“Either way we have to get Hagrid to let the dragon go as soon as possible,” Hermione said.

“You better not tell anyone,” Ron warned Fay, giving her a look.

“I won't,” Fay replied haughtily.

The four Gryffindors hurried out of the library soon after, all of them wanting to get started
on convincing Hagrid to let go of the dragon. Every so often Fay would pause and look around, much
to the annoyance of Ron.

“What are you doing?” he asked when she stopped just outside of the courtyard. “You're
wasting time!”

“I'm making sure Malfoy isn't around,” she hissed back. “Even if he didn't hear
about the you- know-what, do you really think he'd just leave it alone?”

“No,” he agreed reluctantly. Hermione rolled her eyes and continued walking to the hut with
Harry. It seemed Ron liked to argue with everyone.

Hagrid opened his window when they approached instead of letting them in, much to Hermione's
surprise. “Don' want ter overwhelm the little guy,” he explained cheerfully. His eyes widened
once they hit Fay.

“Don't worry, Hagrid,” Hermione reassured quickly. “It's okay that she knows, she
won't tell anyone.”

Hagrid bristled for a moment. “Fine,” he said shortly, “no more of yer friends findin'
out.”

“I'm sorry, Hagrid,” Hermione whispered.

“`S'ok,” he sighed. “Come back tomorrow. I'm jus' a little overwhelmed meself. Been
a big day.”

“It's true,” Ron whispered once Hagrid had shut and locked the window. “He started crying
and blubbering when it hatched.”

The only lesson they had the next day was Double Potions. Hermione entered the dungeon with
mixed emotions. On one hand, it was a short day and that gave her, Harry, Ron, and Fay some extra
time to convince Hagrid that Norbert should be let go. But on the other hand, they had to deal with
Malfoy. She was still convinced that Malfoy had heard about the dragon.

Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Fay sat down at their table together, all of them quite aware of
Malfoy's gaze on them. Much to Hermione's dismay, Malfoy and his goons picked the table
right next to hers, making it impossible for them to talk at all. She tried to focus on what
Professor Snape was teaching them but the smirks and soft chuckles she could hear coming from
Malfoy's table was proving to be too much of a distraction.

As soon as the bell rang Shae came up to their table, insisting that Hermione and Fay go with
her to the library to help her with homework. “Sorry, Shae,” Hermione said, smiling apologetically,
“there's something we have to do.”

“But I need help with Herbology!” Shae whined. She latched onto Fay's arm. “You'll help
me, right?”

Fay looked helplessly at her friends, about to protest. Hermione noticed that Malfoy had stopped
moving from his table and went still, obviously trying to listen in on their conversation. She
kicked Fay from under the table. “I'll help,” Fay agreed, glancing at the Slytherin warily.

Fay was dragged out of the dungeon by Shae, leaving the trio alone. Hermione sighed, shoving her
things into her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. They hurried out of the dungeon as fast as
they could, Hermione looking over her shoulder to make sure that Malfoy wasn't following
them.

“Should we go straight to Hagrid's?” Harry asked.

“I think so,” Ron said immediately. He and Harry hurried out of the Entrance Hall, Hermione
having to run to keep up with them.

Hagrid was at the door before Harry could even knock. He ushered them in, closing and latching
the door behind them. “Where's yer friend?” he asked.

“Fay had to help Shae with homework,” Hermione explained, her eyes immediately going to the
kitchen table. Scorch marks littered the surface as an ugly, black… *thing* sat in the middle
of the table. The pictures of dragons Hermione had seen in books looked nothing like what was
sprawled out in front of her and she had to admit she was a tad disappointed.

“Isn' he beautiful?” Hagrid asked her.

“He's… something,” Hermione said slowly, eyeing the dragon. Ron snorted.

“He's already grown, Hagrid,” Harry stated, looking worried.

“Where do you plan to keep him?” Hermione asked, inching closer to Norbert. He sneezed, sparks
flying out of his nostrils and making her leap back immediately.

“With me, `f course,” Hagrid replied, sounding insulted that Hermione would even suggest Norbert
be anywhere else.

A knock on the door made the four of them jump. Hagrid paled instantly as he ushered Harry and
Ron to stand over where Hermione was. He quickly looked around the hut, kicking the empty bottles
of brandy out of the way and opened the door a sliver of the way. A second later he opened it fully
and Fay burst in.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked as Hagrid shut and locked the door behind her. “I thought
you were helping Shae.”

“Neville showed up and he's quite good at Herbology, you know. I snuck off while he was
helping her,” she replied, her eyes instantly going to the scorched table. “That's, er,
Norbert?”

Hagrid beamed at Fay as reached out to stroke Norbert's head. The dragon ducked and snapped
at his fingers, his tiny fangs slicing his index finger. Fay turned a sickly green as droplets of
blood appeared and put her head into her hands, groaning, and turning away. “I can't watch
this.”

“He's jus' playin',” Hagrid reassured her, grabbing a dish towel and wrapping it
around his finger.

Hermione, Harry, and Ron exchanged sceptical looks as Hagrid busied himself with grabbing a bowl
of water. Hermione could see other little scars and cuts that were obviously new on his hands, and
he even had a little gash on his forehead. She felt a little awkward; Hagrid seemed oblivious to
the four of them in the hut as he cleaned his cut merrily, cooing at Norbert that he didn't
know his own strength.

“He's gone mental,” Ron whispered.

Harry nodded. He suddenly inhaled deeply and hit both Hermione and Ron. “Who's that?” he
hissed.

They all turned to the window, Hermione's heart stopping when she saw beady little eyes
peering through the gap of the curtains. They disappeared seconds later and Harry rushed to the
door, yanking it open and looking outside. “It's Malfoy,” he growled. “He saw the dragon.”

**<><><><><>**

There was something about the smirk Malfoy had on his face the entire next week that made
Hermione extremely nervous. She had expected Hagrid to be exposed as soon as they returned to the
castle but, to her surprise, no news came that the groundskeeper had been sacked for harbouring an
illegal dragon. Still, they all knew that with Malfoy knowing about the dragon, it was only a
matter of time before he started telling people of what he saw. With that thought in mind,
Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Fay spent as much time as they possibly could down at Hagrid's,
trying different ways to convince him to let Norbert go.

“Just let him go,” Harry urged. “Set him free.”

“I can't!” Hagrid protested. “He's too little, he'd die.”

Hermione and Fay glanced at each other, both of their eyebrows raised. The `little' dragon
had grown about four times its length since he hatched the previous week and now had smoke furling
out of his nostrils constantly. He had been taking up so much of Hagrid's time that he
hadn't been able to tend to all of his grounds keeping duties and was falling behind. So the
four Gryffindors had begun to help out with Norbert, taking turns in shifts of twos to help feed
him and keep him occupied. Norbert had already set fire to the hem of Hermione's robes, which
were now stuffed at the bottom of her trunk, ready to be thrown out.

“Norbert knows his name now,” Hagrid announced, leaning toward where the dragon was hunched on
the floor. “Watch! Norbert! Come to mummy, Norbert!”

“He's lost his marbles,” Ron whispered, watching as the dragon slowly crept an inch closer
to Hagrid.

“This is ridiculous,” Hermione scoffed. “Hagrid you have to get rid of Norbert. You can't
keep him here. He'll outgrow the hut in a month, tops.”

“And Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any time,” Harry pointed out.

Hagrid's lower lip trembled and he bit it. “I know,” he conceded. “I know I can' keep
him forever, but I jus' can' dump him…”

Harry sat up straight, looking at Ron with wide eyes, “Charlie.”

“No,” Ron said slowly, staring at Harry, “I'm *Ron*. You've lost it, too.”

“Didn't you say you had a brother named Charlie?” Fay asked, sitting up in her chair.

“That's what I meant,” Harry insisted. “Charlie's in Romania studying dragons isn't
he? We could send Norbert to Charlie! Charlie can take care of him until he's able to go back
into the wild!”

“That's brilliant!” Fay grinned. “How about it, Hagrid?”

It took a little under an hour for Hagrid to agree to let them send an owl to Charlie. The four
left the hut at the end of the night with a bounce in their step - one of their major problems was
about to be solved and they were one step closer back to normality.

The rest of the week dragged on. Ron had sent the letter to Charlie as soon as they left
Hagrid's and now they were all anxiously waiting for a reply. On Wednesday night, Hermione and
Fay were sitting up in the common room, revising for the upcoming exams and waiting until they had
to leave for Astronomy. Harry and Ron were at Hagrid's hut helping with Norbert and their
curfew had just passed.

“What's taking them so long?” Hermione fretted, biting her lip and glancing towards the
portrait hole.

“They didn't take the Invisibility cloak either, did they?” Fay whispered. Hermione shook
her head.

After a few days of helping Hagrid out, Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Fay realized they weren't
able to do what they had to do while their curfew was still in place. Harry took charge and pulled
Fay off to the side, showing her the Invisibility cloak after he made her swear not to mention it
to anyone. They usually took the cloak with them when they went to Hagrid's, but since they had
Astronomy that night, the two boys left early and told Hermione and Fay they would be back before
curfew.

“They'll be caught and given detention if they don't hurry up,” Hermione muttered.

The portrait hole burst open and Harry and Ron scrambled into the common room, Ron looking
extremely pale and clammy. They ignored Fred and George's jabs about being out after curfew and
hurried to the sofa where Hermione and Fay were.

“It bit me!” Ron said shrilly, pulling his hand out from his pocket and showing it wrapped in a
bloody handkerchief. “I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week! That animal is the
most horrid thing I've ever met!”

“It *what*?” Hermione gasped. Fay turned green focused on Ron's face.

“It bit Ron while he was trying to feed it,” Harry said, ushering Ron to sit on the sofa. Fay
hurriedly moved her textbooks out of the way so he could fit. “Then Hagrid told him off for
startling it.”

“Hey, Harry!” Seamus called from across the common room. They all looked up to see Seamus
pointing at the window. “Isn't that your owl?”

“Hedwig!” Harry hurried over to the window and let the owl in. He quickly untied the letter from
her leg and she nipped his finger affectionately before taking off out the window.

Harry unrolled the letter for Ron as he made his way back to the group and handed it to him.
Hermione, Harry, and Fay watched anxiously as Ron read, a huge grin forming on his face.
“Charlie's sending his friends this Saturday!” he said, keeping his voice low. “We're to
bring Norbert to the Astronomy tower at midnight so they can take him!”

“We've got the Invisibility cloak,” Harry said, a smile on his face as well. “It
shouldn't be too difficult - I think the cloak can fit two of us underneath plus Norbert.”

Hermione agreed, smiling at the thought of having a Norbert-free life.

With a few hours to go until Astronomy, the Gryffindors pulled their books out and began to work
on homework and revising. Every once and a while Hermione would glance up at Ron, who was just
sitting there, and frown. He was getting noticeably paler as the evening went on and she could see
the sweat begin to form on his brow. “Are you alright?” she asked, starting to get worried.

“I'm not feeling too great,” Ron admitted. “I think I might just turn in.”

“What about Astronomy?” Fay asked.

“It's not like I can write with my hand all bloodied up like this,” Ron said, rolling his
eyes. He placed his letter from Charlie into one of his textbooks and got up, bidding them a good
night as he went to his dorm.

“I'm sure he'll be fine,” Harry reassured. He sounded confident but Hermione could tell
that he was slightly worried as well. “I think Ron just needs to sleep it off.”

Ron didn't look much better the next morning. In fact, it looked like he was doing worse.
His hand had swollen to twice the size of a normal hand. Hermione immediately told him to go to the
Hospital Wing but he shot that down, saying that he didn't know if it was safe to go to Madam
Pomfrey. What would happen if she was able to recognize the dragon bite?

No matter how much Hermione and Fay pressed him to go to the Hospital Wing, Ron stubbornly
refused, determined to hold out. By lunch time, however, Ron's hand had turned a nasty shade of
green.

“You're going to the Hospital Wing,” Hermione commanded. Ron put up no protest and, in the
end, Fay helped him get to Madam Pomfrey. After lessons were done for the day, Hermione, Harry, and
Fay rushed up to the Hospital Wing to see how he was doing. When they arrived, Ron was in a state
of panic.

“It's not just my hand,” he whispered frantically, “although it feels like it's about to
fall off. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a
good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me - I told her it was a dog, but
I don't think she believes me.” Hermione bit her lip to keep herself from saying of course she
wouldn't believe Ron's excuse, there were no dogs at Hogwarts except for Fang. “I
shouldn't have hit him at the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this.”

“It's all right,” Harry said quickly, trying to calm the ginger down.

“It'll all be over at midnight on Saturday,” Hermione said soothingly. Instead of calming
Ron down like she had intended, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat, his eyes widening.

“Oh no!” he said in a hoarse voice. “Oh no - oh no… I've just remembered. Charlie's
letter was in the book that Malfoy took - he's going to know we're getting rid of
Norbert.”

“What is with you lot and keeping things in books?” Fay asked. “You should've learned when
-”

Fay was cut off when Madam Pomfrey came bustling over to where they were, demanding that they
leave so Ron could get some sleep. She handed Ron a potion and then ushered Hermione, Harry, and
Fay out of the Hospital Wing, snapping the door shut behind them.

“It's too late to change the plan now,” Harry said as he, Hermione, and Fay walked back to
the common room. “We haven't got time to send Charlie another owl and this could be our only
chance to get rid of Norbert.”

“Plus we have the cloak, and Malfoy doesn't know about that,” Fay pointed out.

The next two days couldn't go by fast enough for any of them. Ron was kept in the Hospital
Wing and they were only allowed to visit with him to drop off his homework before Madam Pomfrey
would kick them out.

Finally it was time for them to go pick up Norbert. It was decided that Hermione and Harry would
be the ones to deliver the dragon, a decision that Fay didn't mind at all. She told them she
felt bad for neglecting Shae while they were helping Norbert and would be spending the evening with
her. It worked out for Hermione and Harry, who were hiding underneath the cloak in the common room,
waiting for Fay to return. Once the portrait hole opened up, they snuck past Fay and were on their
way.

The halls were empty as they walked down to Hagrid's, only being held up in the Entrance
Hall by Peeves playing tennis with the wall right by the doors. He eventually got bored with the
game and left, finally allowing Hermione and Harry to continue on their way. Hagrid was waiting for
them outside, teary eyed. At his feet was a large crate that held Norbert.

“He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy ready for the trip,” he sniffed, wiping his
nose on his moleskin coat. “And a teddy bear in case he gets lonely.”

They only had less than an hour to get to the Astronomy tower. Harry quickly covered Hagrid with
the Invisibility cloak and he and Hermione stepped under it. As they disappeared, Hagrid gave a
loud sob that he tried to muffle. “Bye-bye, Norbert!” he sobbed. “Mummy will never forget you!”

Hermione would've felt bad for Hagrid if she hadn't hated Norbert as much as she
did.

The crate was a lot heavier than Hermione had expected and she found herself huffing and
perspiring as they made their way up to the tallest tower. Just as they hit the corridor a sudden
movement made both of them almost drop the crate. They froze, Hermione praying that Norbert would
stay quiet as two figures struggling with each other came into view.

A lamp flared and Professor McGonagall, in a dressing-gown and hairnet, had Malfoy by the
air.

“Detention!” she shrieked. “And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of
the night, how dare you!”

“You don't understand, Professor! Harry Potter's coming - he's got a dragon!”

“What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies,” Professor McGonagall tugged on Malfoy's
ear, dragging him down the corridor. Her shrill voice could be heard echoing off the walls as they
disappeared, “Professor Snape will be hearing of *this*!”

Hermione and Harry snapped out of their stupor and hurried up the tower. They threw off the
cloak and put Norbert down. Hermione felt so giddy at the sight of Malfoy getting in trouble that
she started to spin and jump around.

“Malfoy got detention!” she giggled, spinning. “Malfoy got detention! Teach him to stick his
nose into other people's business! I could sing!”

“Don't,” Harry advised, laughing.

Hermione laughed and plopped down on the ground, loving the cool air on her face. About ten
minutes later four broomsticks swooped down from out of the darkness.

Charlie's friends were a friendly group, smiling and joking with Hermione and Harry as they
set up an apparatus between the four broomsticks. Soon Norbert was secured between the four brooms
and they lifted up off the tower.

Hermione and Harry watched until Charlie's friends were swallowed by the darkness,
butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she realized that Norbert was *gone*.

“Let's go,” Harry said, grinning. “I'm sure Fay's waiting for us to return.”

Hermione agreed and they slipped down the stairs of the tower, grins on both of their faces.

“Well, well, well,” a cold voice from whispered from the shadows. Hermione jumped and spun
around as Filch slinked into the moonlight. “We *are* in trouble.”

Hermione's heart dropped her eyes wide as she realized that they had left the Invisibility
cloak up on the top of the tower.

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**End Note: I hope this chapter was worth it! I don't know when the next chapter will be
written, but it'll be up sometime… soonish?**

**Please read and review, it keeps me motivated in my oh-so-busy schedule.**

**Kelci**

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19. Seventeen: Set in Motion
----------------------------



**Seventeen**

**“****Set in Motion****”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit. ALSO, I used some of the text from the**
**Philosopher's Stone** **and that most definitely belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

**Note One: A big thanks to** **the_scribbler** **for being my awesomesauce
beta/editor!**

**Note Two: If you haven't noticed, the rating for Her Story has gone up to the next
rating. This chapter is the reason why; we're getting into more violent and dark themes that
aren't fit for the kiddie rating anymore. But I hope you enjoy either way!**

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**10 May, 1992**

Hermione's mind stopped working the minute Filch led them into Professor McGonagall's
office. She sat down in a chair in front of the professor's desk, her entire body trembling as
she focused on her shoes. Tears began to prickle at her eyes; she knew that there weren't any
excuses or alibis that could cover up why they were out of bed past curfew. They were trapped, no
matter what happened she knew that they'd be in severe trouble.

Hermione felt rather than saw Harry sit down in the chair beside her. He seemed to accept the
fact that they were trapped as well, and was slouched in defeat.

Hermione took a deep, shuddery breath as she tried to steel herself for what was about to
happen. The door opened and she glanced up, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw Professor
McGonagall leading Neville into the room.

“Harry!” Neville burst out as soon as he saw the two Gryffindors. “I was trying to stop you!
Malfoy was saying he was going to catch you, he said that you two had a drag-”

Hermione saw Harry jerk his head as a signal for Neville to stop talking. Professor McGonagall
saw the action too and sunk her claws into them.

“I never would have believed it of any of you. Mr. Filch says you were up at the Astronomy
tower. It's one o'clock in the morning. *Explain yourselves*.”

Hermione felt the professor's gaze fall on her and she glanced back down to her feet, her
hands clenching her robes. A deafening silence filled the room until Professor McGonagall spoke
after several moments.

“I think I've got a good idea what's been going on,” she said. “It doesn't take a
genius to figure out. You fed Draco Malfoy some cock and bull story about a dragon, trying to get
him out of bed and into trouble. Well it's worked - I've already caught him. I suppose you
think it's funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it too?”

Hermione glanced up and winced, guilt coursing through her as Neville stared at them with hurt
eyes. He looked like someone had just squashed his toad Trevor.

“I'm disgusted,” Professor McGonagall continued, Hermione winced again at the tone of her
voice. “Four students out of bed in one night! Three of them from *my own house*! You - Miss
Granger, I thought you had more sense than this. What were you thinking going along with this
little prank?”

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. The guilt she had felt back on Halloween was nothing compared
to how she felt now. A tear streaked down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away.

“As for you, Mr. Potter,” Professor McGonagall moved on, “I though Gryffindor meant *more*
to you than this. All three of you will receive detention for this - yes, even you Longbottom.
*Nothing* gives you the right to walk around the school at night, especially these days. And
fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor.”

“Fifty?” Harry gasped. Hermione's head whipped around, her mouth dropping open at his tone
with the Headmistress.

“Fifty points *each*,” Professor McGonagall snapped, breathing heavily.

“Please - Professor -” Hermione protested.

“You *can't* -”

“Don't you tell me what I can and can't do, Potter. Now get back to bed, all of you.
I've never been more ashamed of Gryffindor students.”

Hermione shakily rose from her seat, following Harry and Neville out of Professor
McGonagall's office. She wiped another stray tear away, finding it hard to believe that such a
good night could turn out as disastrous as it did. Fifty points from Gryffindor - *each*. That
was one hundred and fifty points in total. Malfoy had only lost twenty points when he had been
caught.

“Neville,” Harry began weakly.

Neville gave a little squeak and shook his head, hurrying to walk in front of them. Hermione
again felt the guilt course through her. Neville was innocent in all of this; he shouldn't have
been punished as harshly.

They made it to the common room in record time. Fay was up, pacing by the fire in her pyjamas as
they walked through the portrait hole. She glanced up, her eyes widening as she saw the three of
them and hurried over. “What happened?” she demanded.

Neville gave a muffled sob and ran up the staircase to the boy's dormitory, tripping halfway
up the stairs. Seconds later they heard the door slamming shut.

“What happened?” Fay asked again. “Where's the cloak? Why did you come with Neville?”

“We forgot the cloak on the top of the tower,” Harry spat, throwing himself angrily into an
armchair. Hermione followed suit, putting her head into her hands and allowing the tears to fall
freely now. “Malfoy had been caught by McGonagall trying to catch us and we were so happy we forgot
the cloak. Filch caught us as soon as we hit the corridor.” Fay's mouth dropped open as Harry
told her what had happened that night, gasping when she was told how many points they had lost.

“How did you know Neville was out of the tower?” Hermione sniffled, wiping her eyes with the
sleeve of her robe.

Fay flushed and began to fidget. “He was with Shae and I in the library when we overheard Malfoy
telling Crabbe and Goyle about the dragon. I went to go help find him a book when we passed
them.”

“*What?*” Hermione and Harry both shouted.

“Why didn't you stop him?” Harry demanded, glaring angrily at Fay.

“I tried to!” Fay defended. “I really did! But he was convinced that he had to save the two of
you from getting caught. I told him he'd get caught and get in trouble and it wouldn't be
worth it but he's so *bloody* stubborn!”

“And you didn't think to follow him?” Hermione asked, momentarily stunned at Fay's
language.

Fay stared blankly at her friend. “Really, Hermione? If I followed him out of the common room
*I* would've gotten caught as well. That would've been *another* fifty points
from Gryffindor.”

“Right,” Hermione mumbled. Of course Fay would see the logical side of things.

“We should get to bed,” Harry said, getting up.

Hermione nodded. She doubted she would be able to sleep at all that night, but knew that it
wouldn't do them any good just sitting there. She and Fay said goodnight to Harry and slowly
made their way up to the dorm.

“I can't believe I had fifty points taken away from Gryffindor,” Hermione muttered, feeling
another wave of tears come. She felt so ashamed of herself; she just wanted to bury her head
underneath her pillow and never come up again.

“Tomorrow will be tough, that's for sure,” Fay said, nodding.

Hermione glared at the brunette. “Thanks for the support, Fay,” she snapped.

“What? Do you want me to lie to you and say everything will be alright?” she retorted. “How
could the two of you forget something as *important* as the cloak?”

“We were caught up in the moment,” Hermione hissed, pulling her robes on and changing into her
pyjamas. “Malfoy had gotten caught by McGonagall and Norbert was out of our lives, excuse me if we
were a little excited.”

“It was a stupid thing to do,” Fay stated. “Now the cloak is up at the tower available for
anyone who happens to go up there.”

Hermione froze, her eyes widening. “The cloak was Harry's dads…” she whispered.

“I understand how the two of you got caught up in the moment,” Fay said, slipping under her
covers. “But this entire situation was caused by a bunch of slip ups. You lot need to *think*!
You left the note about Norbert in your book - which I found, Ron left his letter from Charlie in
the book that Malfoy took, and you and Harry forgot the cloak because of being too excited. The
three of you need to use your heads.”

Hermione sunk down on the bed, picking at her quilt. Tears pooled over onto her cheeks and her
bottom lip trembled. Had they really been so stupid? Hermione took pride in looking for the logical
side of things, being more mature. But what Fay said was true - they wouldn't be in this
situation if they had been more careful.

Morning came entirely too soon. Hermione hardly managed to get a few hours of sleep before she
decided it was best to get ready for the day. She slumped down the stairs and onto a sofa by the
fire, staring blankly at the embers. It was still early enough in the morning that the rest of the
students were still in bed, giving Hermione the time to think of what she could say to the rest of
her house.

Soon students began to trickle down. Hermione felt her entire stomach turn to ice when Fay,
Shae, and the rest of the first years came down. Harry and Neville trailed after them, both looking
glum.

“You too?” Shae asked once she saw Hermione. “What is with everyone looking so sad? It's a
beautiful morning!”

Hermione gave a non-committal noise and stood up, joining them to go down for breakfast. Her
heart began to thunder in her ears the closer they got the Entrance hall. She, Harry, and Neville
stopped dead when they saw the small crowd around the hourglasses that recorded how many points
each house had.

“What's going on?” Seamus asked. Everyone but Hermione, Harry, Fay, and Neville joined the
crowd around Gryffindor's hourglass.

“Here we go,” Fay exhaled.

“*One* *hundred and fifty points?*” Hermione winced as Shae's voice echoed
throughout the hall.

“How could this happen?” Dean asked. “We were in second place last night!”

Hermione went into the Great Hall, not wanting to hear other Gryffindors talk about their point
loss. Harry and Neville followed her, slumping down at the Gryffindor table. Neville wouldn't
talk or look at either of them, but seemed to have the same feeling of shame for having lost so
many points.

Throughout the day, word somehow got out that it was the famous Harry Potter and two Gryffindor
first years that caused Gryffindor to go into last place. Hermione had expected anger from her
fellow house, but what she didn't expect was Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff to lash out as well.
Everywhere Hermione went she got the cold shoulder, even Sally-Anne, who was usually so eager to
spend time with Hermione, didn't want to talk to her.

Neville was getting the same treatment as Hermione, but Harry was the one who got the brunt of
the anger. Because he was so famous and well-known throughout the school, people spread the rumour
of how he had lost Gryffindor all those points. He'd return from Quidditch practice absolutely
miserable, saying that no one would talk to him or call him by his name, just calling him `the
Seeker' when they did have to talk to him.

The only ones who stayed by Hermione and Harry's side were Ron (who was released from the
Hospital Wing the day after they had lost the points) and Fay. Ron tried to joke it off, saying
that Fred and George had lost a lot of points in the past, but nothing Ron could say would make
Hermione or Harry feel any better.

Shae and the rest of the first years were a little more lenient than the other students at
first, but when Hermione, Harry, and Neville refused to tell them what they had done to lose all
those points, their attitudes changed. Shae stopped asking Hermione for revision help and poor Fay
had to be in the middle, feeling Shae's wrath whenever she choose to sit with Hermione, Harry,
and Ron.

Life at Hogwarts was a lot different now than what Hermione was used to. Luckily, she was able
to keep herself busy. Ron had fallen behind on his studies with the time he spent in the Hospital
Wing so Hermione made it her mission to get her friend all caught up. Every day after lessons, she,
Harry, and Ron would grab a table in the back of the library and do homework and revise for the
upcoming exams.

A week before exams were due to start, Hermione found herself at her usual table in the library,
testing Ron on Astronomy. Harry was just finishing up with Quidditch practice and said that he was
going to get cleaned up before joining them.

“Name Mars' two moons,” Hermione said, glancing down at her sheet.

“Phobos,” Ron replied after a moment. “And, uh…”

Ron lost his concentration as Harry came tearing into the library, looking frantic. “I just
overheard Snape threatening Quirrell,” he hissed, pulling the chair closer to Ron.

“What?” Hermione gasped, the Astronomy charts forgotten. She scooted her chair closer to Harry
and Ron, glancing around to make sure no one could overhear them.

“You heard Snape?” Ron asked eagerly.

“Well, no,” Harry admitted. “But I was walking past a classroom and Quirrell was making these
whimpering sounds. He was saying `no, not again' and then came bursting out of the classroom -
he looked like he was about to cry.”

“Snape's done it then!” Ron whispered. “If Quirrell told him how to get past his Anti-Dark
Force Spell -”

“There's still Fluffy though,” Hermione pointed out.

“Maybe Snape found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid,” Ron suggested. “Look around,
Hermione. There are thousands of books in here; it wouldn't exactly be hard for him to find out
if he knew where to look. You found out about Flamel in a book.”

“You also found out about him on a Chocolate Frog,” Hermione said, but Ron ignored her.

“So what do we do, Harry?”

“We go to Dumbledore,” Hermione said immediately. “This is what we should've done from the
very start. I shouldn't have listened to either you and just gone to Dumbledore and told him
myself.”

“But we've got no proof!” Harry said, slamming his fist on the table and ignoring Hermione
as she shushed him. “Quirrell's too scared to back us up! Snape's only got to say he
doesn't know how the troll got in at Halloween and that he was nowhere near the third floor -
who do you think they'll believe, him or us?”

“You made that argument last time,” Hermione reminded.

“And it's still true,” he insisted. “Look at the trouble we've gotten into in the past
month. They'll just think we're making this up to redeem ourselves.”

“Why would we make up something like *this*?” Hermione scoffed. “And why does no one want
to go to an adult? They're supposed to help us! If we had just gone to Dumbledore we
wouldn't be in this mess!”

“No one has our back on this, Hermione! No one.” Harry looked between the two of them with hard
eyes. “Filch wouldn't help us if his life depended on it - the more students that get thrown
out the better. And don't forget, we're not supposed to know about the Stone or Fluffy.
That'll take a lot of explaining. Either way, we'll have a lot of explaining to do and
we'll get into a lot of trouble - again.”

Hermione groaned, rubbing her forehead. She knew there was no trying to sway Harry's
decision. “Fine,” she relented. “But if this all blows up, I'll never forgive you Harry.”

“If we just do a bit of poking around-” Ron began.

“No,” Harry interrupted. “No more poking around. We've done enough of that.” With that, he
grabbed Hermione's chart and began studying the different moons.

Hermione had a hard time concentrating on revising for the rest of the evening. The threat of
Professor Snape getting the Philosopher's Stone seemed more real and it was beginning to
frighten her a little. After messing up on the simplest of questions, Hermione decided to call it a
night and packed up.

As Hermione left the library, she passed the table that Fay, Shae, Lavender, and Parvati were
at. She gave a small smile to them and was relieved to see Fay and Shae smile back. The redhead was
slowly beginning to warm up to Hermione again, although Lavender and Parvati were still stony
towards her. Hermione cleared her throat, and continued out of the library and down the
corridor.

“Wait, Hermione!”

Hermione stopped to see Fay hurrying toward her. She had the same look of determination she had
when she confronted Hermione about Norbert as she marched towards her, making Hermione groan, “What
is it?”

“Please tell me you aren't getting into more trouble,” Fay said quietly.

“You heard our conversation in the library,” Hermione stated flatly, her stomach dropping.

“Not all of it,” Fay admitted. “But I heard enough to know that you're up to something
again.”

“Just… don't even bother,” Hermione sighed.

“Is it that bad?” Fay asked. Hermione nodded. “Like Norbert bad?”

“Worse than Norbert.” Hermione looked at Fay with pleading eyes. It wasn't that she
didn't trust her; the whole ordeal with Norbert had shown that Fay could be trusted with
anything. But the situation between Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell could be considered
dangerous, and she didn't want to drag Fay in.

“I won't pry,” Fay said quietly, looking down sadly. “But, can you promise me one
thing?”

“Of course,” Hermione said immediately.

“Promise me that you three won't do anything stupid,” she pleaded. “You, Harry, and Ron are
my friends and I don't want to see any of you get hurt.”

“I promise,” Hermione nodded, smiling.

Fay smiled and, in an act that surprised Hermione, reached over and pulled her into a hug. She
drew back before Hermione could register what happened and turned to go back to the library.

**<><><>**

Hermione had forgotten all about the detention Professor McGonagall had handed out, so when
three identical notes were delivered to Hermione, Harry, and Neville the next morning, a spike of
fear went through her. Would news of Hermione's punishment be sent to her parents? She knew
that at her old primary school they would send home notes whenever students got into trouble - was
it the same for the wizarding world?

“Meet Filch in the Entrance Hall at eleven tonight,” Ron read from over Harry's shoulder.
“That doesn't sound pleasant.”

“They don't owl parents when students get detention, do they?” Hermione asked fearfully.

“Only when it's a really bad thing they've done,” Ron said dismissively. “Mum's only
received a few letters from Hogwarts about Fred and George and they've had loads of
detentions.”

“Don't think it'd matter either way for me,” Harry said quietly, slipping the note into
his pocket. “I'm sure getting news that I received detention would give the Dursleys a good
laugh.”

“Harry, that's not true,” Hermione scolded, frowning at him. She knew Harry's guardians
weren't the nicest people, but she was sure Harry was exaggerating. He just shrugged and went
back to his breakfast. Hermione and Ron exchanged glances before the redhead quickly changed the
subject.

At quarter to eleven, Hermione and Harry left Ron in the common room and joined Neville as they
walked down to the Entrance Hall. Filch was waiting for them and Malfoy was standing off to the
side, looking furious.

Hermione barely managed to bite back her groan when she saw him. She knew Malfoy had received
detention as well, but she didn't think that he'd be spending it with them. She shared a
disgruntled look with Harry and Neville- tonight really couldn't get any worse.

“Follow me,” Filch sneered, lighting a lantern once Hermione, Harry, and Neville joined them. He
led them out the doors and into the courtyard, a bounce in his step. “I bet you'll think twice
about breaking a school rule again, won't you?”

Hermione tuned Filch out as he began describing detentions and torturing devices from the past,
refusing to allow herself to be scared by the foul man. Instead, she looked around the grounds. The
moon was extremely bright and, even though it was slightly cloudy, lit the grounds in an eerie
silver glow.

They hit the familiar slant in the grass and Hermione realized they were heading towards
Hagrid's hut. Seconds later, they could hear Hagrid's booming voice calling out to them,
urging Filch to hurry up.

“I suppose you think you'll have it easy since you'll be with that great oaf,” Filch
sneered, looking at Harry. “Think again, boy. It's into the forest with you lot tonight - and
I'll doubt you'll make it back out in once piece.”

Neville gave a strangled whimper and grasped Harry's arm at the mention of the Forbidden
Forest. Malfoy stopped dead, nearly making Hermione run into him.

“The forest?” he squeaked. “We can't go in there at night! There are all sorts of things in
there - werewolves and monsters!”

“That's your problem, isn't it?” Filch cackled gleefully. “You should've thought
about them werewolves and monsters before you broke school rules.”

Hagrid appeared from the darkness, Fang at his heels and a large crossbow propped against his
shoulder. “It's abou' time,” he said, glaring at Filch. Hermione felt her knees go weak at
the sight of the large weapon and she edged closer to Harry.

“Been lecturin' `em, have yeh?” Hagrid continued. “I've been ready fer almos' an
hour now.”

“I'll be back for them at dawn,” Filch sneered, his lip curling up as he glared back at
giant. He turned around and began to walk back to the castle, pausing after a few steps. He turned
to look over his shoulder at the four students, the light from his lantern casting an ominous
shadow across his face, “For what's left of them, at least.”

“I'm not going in there,” Malfoy said immediately, his voice laced with panic.

“Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts,” Hagrid growled.

“This is servant work! Students aren't supposed to do this - we should be writing lines back
in the castle!” Malfoy hissed. “When my *father* hears about this -”

“He'll tell yeh that's how it's done at Hogwarts,” Hagrid interrupted. “Writing
lines! What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or yeh'll get out. If yeh
think yer father'd rather yeh were expelled, then get back to the castle. Go on!”

Malfoy didn't move and glared at Hagrid. Finally he scoffed and looked away.

“Right then,” Hagrid continued. “Listen carefully, `cause it's dangerous what we'll be
doin' tonight. Follow me.”

Hagrid led them towards the edge of the forest. He held his lantern up as he led them down a
narrow trail, stopping after a moment. Turning back to the four students, he pointed down the path.
“Look,” he said, raising the lantern higher, “see that shinin' stuff on the ground? Silvery
stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn that's been badly hurt by summat. Second
time this week - I found one dead last Wednesday. It's our job to find the poor thing - might
have ter put it out of its misery.”

Hermione felt her stomach give an unpleasant lurch at the thought of putting an animal down. She
gulped, not sure if she'd be able to handle it.

“And what if the thing that hurt the unicorn finds us first?” Malfoy asked, his voice cracking
with fear.

“There's nothin' that lives in this forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang,”
Hagrid said firmly. “Make sure yeh keep to the path. We'll be splitting inter two parties and
follow the trail in different directions. There's a lot o' blood so the poor thing musta
been hurt since last night.”

“I want Fang,” Malfoy said immediately, pointing to the large dog.

“Fine. Just ter warn yeh, he's a bloody coward.” Hagrid stated. All the colour drained from
Malfoy's face as Hagrid looked at the others. “So it'll be Draco, Neville, and Fang one way
and me, Harry, and Hermione the other. If yeh find the unicorn send up green sparks. If yeh get
yerself inter trouble, send up red sparks an' I'll be on my way.”

After they all practiced shooting off the sparks, Hagrid handed Neville a second lantern and led
them further down the path. Eventually the path forked, Neville, Malfoy, and Fang taking the left
path and Hermione, Harry, and Hagrid taking the right.

The forest was black and silent as Hagrid led the way. His large figure cast a shadow over
Hermione and Harry, making it nearly impossible for the two of them to see.

Hermione kept her eyes trained to the ground, following and making sure not to step in any of
the unicorn blood. There was a small clearing where the trees weren't as thick and moonlight
trickled down across the path, illuminating a larger pool of the unicorn's blood. Hermione
couldn't stifle her whimper as they passed.

“Yeh alright, Hermione?” Hagrid asked softly. “Don' worry, it can' have gone far if
it's this badly hurt. Then we'll be able ter put - GET BEHIND THAT TREE!”

Hermione squeaked in surprise as Hagrid whirled around and hoisted both Hermione and Harry up
and behind a large oak tree. Hermione watched fearfully as Hagrid drew an arrow and notched it into
his crossbow.

They all listened, their ears straining to hear what Hagrid had heard. A soft slithering across
the dead leaves to Hermione's left made her jump. Too afraid to move, she stood there,
listening as whatever it was slithered right by them.

As the sound faded, Hagrid lowered his crossbow. “I knew it,” he said grimly, “there's
summat in this forest that shouldn' be here.”

“A werewolf?” Harry suggested.

“That sounded more like a snake than an animal,” Hermione whispered fearfully, feeling panic set
in. She *hated* snakes.

Hagrid helped Hermione and Harry back onto the path and then continued forward. Hermione and
Harry walked as close as they could to Hagrid, Hermione's eyes darting frantically around in
the darkness. She kept getting the distinct feeling that they were being watched from something in
the shadows, the hairs on her neck standing up on end.

The bushes in front of Hagrid moved suddenly, and Hermione grasped her wand tightly. Hagrid
froze, raising his crossbow immediately. “Who's there?” he demanded. “Show yerself - I'm
armed!”

The bushes parted and a half man, half horse trotted out into the clearing. Hermione's mouth
dropped as she took him in. “Harry,” she whispered, tugging on his arm, “Harry, it's a
centaur!”

“Oh, it's you Ronan,” Hagrid sighed in relief, lowering his crossbow. “How are yeh?”

“Good evening to you, Hagrid.” The centaur, Hagrid called him Ronan, asked as Hagrid strode
forward to shake his hand. His voice was deep and sorrowful, but had a melodic tone to it. “Were
you going to shoot me?”

“Can't be too careful,” Hagrid replied. “There's summat bad loose in this forest. This
is Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, by the way - students up at the school. This is Ronan, yeh
two. He's a centaur.”

“We've noticed,” Hermione whispered faintly, still unable to take her eyes off of him.

“Good evening,” Ronan said, peering around Hagrid to look at them. “Students, are you? And do
you learn much, up at the school?”

“A bit,” Hermione replied, feeling herself shrink under the centaur's gaze.

“A bit, well that's something.” Ronan threw his head back and stared up to the sky. “Mars is
bright tonight.”

“Yeah,” Hagrid replied. “I'm glad we've run inter yeh, Ronan, `cause there's been a
unicorn hurt - yeh seen anything'?”

Hermione and Harry waited with bated breath as Ronan continued to stare up at the sky. “Always
the innocent are the first victims,” he finally sighed.

“Yeah,” Hagrid said, shifting impatiently, “but have yeh seen anythin', Ronan?”

“Mars is bright tonight,” he said again. “Unusually bright.”

A movement in the trees made Hermione and Harry start. Seconds later, another centaur walked up
behind Ronan.

“Bane,” Hagrid greeting. “All right?”

“Good evening, Hagrid,” the second centaur greeted. “I hope you are well.”

“Well enough. Look I've been jus' askin' Ronan if he noticed anythin' unusual
o' late,” Hagrid said. “A unicorn's been hurt badly.”

Bane looked up to the sky with the same sorrowful expression as Ronan. “Mars is unusually bright
tonight.”

Hermione felt frustration creep up on her as the centaurs danced around answering Hagrid's
question. Hagrid huffed grumpily, “If yeh two do notice anythin', let me know, won't yeh?
We'll be off now.”

Hagrid motioned for Hermione and Harry to follow as he continued off down the path. Hermione and
Harry looked back over their shoulders as they walked, the two centaurs continuing to look up at
the sky.

“Never,” Hagrid said irritably, regaining their attention, “try an' get a straight answer
out of a centaur. Ruddy stargazers.”

They continued on down the path until Hermione just happened to look up. Red sparks shot up in
the distance and she yanked on Hagrid's arm. “Hagrid! Look! Red sparks!”

“Yeh two stay here!” Hagrid shouted, bolting off down the path. “Stay on the path! I'll come
back for yeh!”

Hagrid disappeared seconds later, taking the lantern with him. Now enveloped in total darkness,
Hermione stared frightfully around them. “What if something's happened to them?” she
whispered.

“I could care less about Malfoy,” Harry replied, glancing around nervously. “But if anything
happened to Neville…”

Hermione whimpered and shifted closer to Harry. A wind blew through the path, kicking up the
dead leaves. The minutes dragged by with no sign of Hagrid returning. A sudden chill went through
Hermione and she whipped around; the feeling that someone was watching them returned with full
force.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“Shh!” Hermione hissed. She couldn't tell if it was her imagination or not, but Hermione
knew she was hearing the same slithering sound they had heard earlier. It disappeared as soon as a
crunching noise behind them made both Hermione and Harry jump as light suddenly filtered around
them.

“We'll be lucky ter find anythin' now with the racket yeh two were makin,'” Hagrid
announced, looking furious. Fang was at his heels and Neville and Malfoy trailed after him.
Apparently Malfoy thought to sneak up on Neville as a joke and scared him so badly he sent up the
red sparks. “Right we're changing teams. Harry and Hermione yeh'll be with Fang, I know I
can trust yeh two to not goof around.”

“Are you okay, Neville?” Hermione asked, taking the lantern from him. Neville nodded glumly.
Harry whistled for Fang and they all started walking in the opposite direction.

“I can't believe Malfoy did that to Neville,” Hermione growled.

“I can,” Harry said bitterly.

Hermione and Harry walked for about an hour in silence, both of them listening for the
slithering they had heard. As they got deeper into the forest, the trees got thicker and it was
becoming harder to stay on the path. Hermione noticed with horror that the unicorn blood was
starting to get thicker as they went along, splashing on the path and the roots sticking out from
the ground.

“Hermione,” Harry whispered. He stopped walking and pointed to a clearing in front of them.

Hermione looked up and gasped - they had found the unicorn. The poor creature was obviously
dead, and sprawled out against the roots, its legs bent at awkward angles from where it had fallen.
It was the most beautiful and sad thing Hermione had ever seen, and the moonlight that was shining
down made the entire scene take on an other-world feeling. She took a shaky step toward the
creature when Harry suddenly pulled her back forcefully.

A hooded figure came slithering from out of the bushes, crawling on all fours towards the
unicorn. Hermione watched in horror as the hooded head bent down at the unicorn's neck and
began to drink the blood. That snapped Hermione out of her stupor and a scream tore from her
throat. Dropping the lantern, she turned on her heel and ran as fast as she could the other way,
Fang bolting up the path in front of her.

Harry's scream made Hermione look back; he hadn't moved from his spot. As he stumbled
backwards, Hermione's foot caught in a root and she pitched forward. Her knees impacted with
the ground hard, making her cry out in pain. Grasping her wand, she shot up three rounds of red
sparks into the air and then scrambled to Harry.

“Come on!” Hermione cried, grabbing his arm. Harry either wouldn't or couldn't get up.
The hooded figure seemed to be finished with the unicorn and began to slither towards Hermione and
Harry. “Harry, move!” Hermione screamed and began to drag Harry away as the figure closed in on
them.

The pounding of hooves made the figure pause and, suddenly, a centaur came galloping from out of
the bushes. It wedged itself in between Hermione and Harry and the hooded figure, rearing up
threateningly on its hind legs. The figure hissed at the centaur and retreated back into the
forest.

Hermione collapsed to the ground, panting heavily as the centaur turned towards them. A sharp
stinging in her knees made her look down and she groaned at the sight; her knees were all bloodied
and torn up from her fall. A particular gash right on her kneecap was sure to need at least several
stiches.

“Are you alright?” the centaur asked, pulling Harry to his feet. He glanced down briefly at
Hermione's knees (with startling sapphire blue eyes, Hermione noticed) before returning his
gaze to Harry.

“Yes, thank you,” Harry said, rubbing his forehead. Hermione frowned; she didn't remember
him hitting his head. “What *was* that?”

The centaur didn't answer and just stared at Harry. Hermione saw his eyes flick upward to
Harry's scar.

“You are the Potter boy,” he finally stated. “You had better head back to Hagrid. The forest is
not a safe place for you.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked warily.

The centaur said nothing and turned to Hermione, bending his front legs so he could pull her up,
“Your friend requires medical healing. Can you ride? It'll be quicker that way.”

Harry's eyes travelled down to Hermione's knees and he gasped. “Hermione - you're
bleeding!”

“Hagrid should be on his way,” Hermione said as Harry helped her climb onto the centaur's
back. Harry crawled on behind her, grabbing her around the waist so he wouldn't fall off. “I
sent up red sparks.”

“We'll reach him,” the centaur reassured, straightening his legs. The sudden movement made
Hermione grasp his shoulders. “I am Firenze.”

More thundering of hooves erupted from the other side of the clearing. Seconds later, Ronan and
Bane appeared, panting and sweating.

“Firenze!” Bane roared. “What do you think you are doing? Those are humans on your back! Have
you no shame? Are you now a common mule?”

“Do you realize who this boy is?” Firenze countered. “This is the Potter boy. The quicker he and
his friends leave the forest, the better.”

Hermione saw Bane's eyes narrow dangerously from across the clearing and she shivered. They
looked dangerous - wild.

“What have you been telling them?” he demanded. “Remember Firenze, we are sworn not to set
ourselves against the heavens.”

“I'm sure that Firenze has his reasons for doing this,” Ronan said quietly, pawing at the
ground nervously.

“His reasons?” Bane scoffed. “Centaurs are only concerned with what's been foretold!
It's not our business to run around like donkeys after humans in *our* forest!”

“Do you not see that unicorn?” Firenze bellowed, pointing over at the creature. “Do you know
*why* it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that little secret? I set myself
against what is lurking in this forest Bane, *even* if I have to side with humans to do
it.”

Firenze whirled around and trotted off down the path. Hermione glanced back over her shoulder,
biting her lip. They were going in the opposite direction of where Hagrid's group should be
coming from.

“Why was Bane so mad?” Harry asked. “What was that thing you saved us from?”

Firenze didn't respond and slowed his pace to a slow walk. Hermione desperately wanted to
ask him if they'd be going back to Hagrid but was too afraid of angering him.

“Do you know what unicorn blood is used for?” Firenze finally asked.

“We've never used the blood,” Hermione answered immediately, startled by the question.
“We've only used the tail-hair and horn in Potions.”

“That's because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn,” Firenze said quietly. “Only a
man who is truly desperate, and has nothing left to lose, would slay one. For the blood of a
unicorn will keep you alive, but at a terrible price. To kill such an innocent and defenceless
creature is a terrible crime, and if the blood has been drunk, the drinker will live a cursed
life.”

“A cursed life?” Harry asked.

“You will live a half-life. Not dead, but not quite alive, either,” Firenze stated sombrely.
“Unless, of course, there was another way to make you hole again. Tell me, do either of you know
what is hiding at Hogwarts this very moment?”

Hermione went cold, her eyes widening at the realization.

“The Philosopher's Stone!” Harry rasped. “The Elixir of Life.”

“But I don't understand,” Hermione frowned. “Who would be so desperate to -”

“Can you not think of anyone who has wanted for years to return to power?” Firenze pressed.
“Someone who has clung to life?”

Hermione went rigid from behind Hermione. “You don't mean,” he whispered hoarsely, “that
*thing* was Vo-”

“Harry! Hermione!”


Hagrid appeared with Fang at his heels, relief evident on his face as they approached. Neville ran
up to them, gasping when he saw Hermione's knees.

“Good evening, Hagrid,” Firenze greeted. He bent his knees down and Harry hopped off. He and
Neville helped Hermione off of Firenze's back, only letting her go when they were sure she
wouldn't lose her balance. “This will be where we part ways. Hagrid, you'll want to take
this young lady back to the castle to be healed.”

“What happened?” Hagrid asked worriedly. He slung his crossbow onto his back and gingerly picked
Hermione up. Hermione felt herself flush from embarrassment as they began walking down the
path.

“We found the unicorn, Hagrid,” Harry said, jogging to keep up with his pace. “It's dead,
back in that clearing over there.”

“I'll check it later,” Hagrid replied, glancing over his shoulder to where Harry had
pointed. “How did yeh hurt yerself, Hermione?”

Hermione began to explain what happened, and was just about to get to the part where the hooded
figure began to drink the unicorn's blood when Harry cut her off, “Firenze saved us before the
hooded figure could get to us.”

Hermione glanced curiously at him but he shook his head. Hermione let it go for now, the
throbbing in her knees was starting to become a little too much.

Madam Pomfrey was none too pleased at the sight of Hermione's knees. She clucked her tongue
and huffed, flying around the infirmary in her nightgown as she grabbed different vials. Neville
and Malfoy had been sent back to their dorms and Filch was notified that the detention ended early.
Harry and Hagrid sat by Hermione, watching as Madam Pomfrey prepared her station.

“I don't have to stay the night, do I?” Hermione asked. She was eager to talk about what had
happened that night to Harry and Ron (who promised he would wait for them), and didn't think
she could handle having to wait until the morning.

“I'd rather if you did,” Madam Pomfrey sniffed, “but you may leave if you wish. It is a
simple procedure that'll be done in five minutes.”

“I want to leave,” Hermione replied immediately.

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips but didn't say anything and began to clean Hermione's
knees. After she finished with that, the medic handed Hermione a vial with a purple liquid in it,
commanding her to drink. Hermione did and was surprised to find that it tasted quite good, like
bananas, as a tingling sensation began around her knees. She looked down and the scrapes and cuts
had healed themselves. A thin scar traced her skin where the large gash had been.

“I was afraid of that,” Madam Pomfrey murmured, tracing the scar with her finger. “Oh well,
that'll be a reminder for you not to get detention again, won't it?”

“Yes ma'am,” Hermione replied.

“Off you go, dearie,” she said, patting her on the knee. Hermione slid off the bed and followed
Harry and Hagrid out into the corridor. They bid goodnight to Hagrid and hurried up to Gryffindor
tower, both of them anxious to tell Ron what all had happened.

Ron was asleep when they arrived. After waking him up (which took a lot more effort than
Hermione had anticipated), they proceeded to tell Ron the events of that night.

“Snape wants the Stone for Voldemort,” Harry concluded, pacing back and forth in front of the
fire. Ron flinched violently at the wizard's name. “And after all this time we though Snape was
going after the stone to get rich.”

“You don't think it was Snape we saw in the forest, do you?” Hermione asked timidly.

“No, I think that thing was saw was Voldemort,” Harry shook his head, running a hand through his
hair. Hermione shivered.

“Will you stop saying his name?” Ron hissed.

“Firenze saved us,” Harry continued on, “but he shouldn't have. Hermione, you saw how angry
Bane was at him for changing the way it was supposed to be.”

“Harry, you can't honestly expect me to believe that it was `written in the stars' that
we were supposed to die tonight,” Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Firenze saved us, and I will
be grateful for that for the rest of my life. But centaurs are *stargazers* - fortune tellers.
That's not reliable!”

“Bane thinks Firenze should've let Voldemort kill us,” Harry went on, ignoring Hermione.
“Now all we have to do is wait for Snape to get the Stone and resurrect Voldemort so he can finish
the job.”

“*Will you stop staying his* *name?*” Ron hissed, his ears turning red as he glared at
Harry.

Hermione huffed, watching as Harry continued to pace. She could see that he had been shaken up
with what happened tonight, and she couldn't blame him. But the way he was acting was starting
to frighten her. “Harry, everyone knows that Dumbledore is the only one who can stand up against
You-Know-Who,” she said slowly. “As long as he's here, we're safe.”

The three of them talked well into the morning, Hermione finally dosing off for a second before
it was decided they would call it a night. As Hermione pulled her pyjamas on, she glanced out the
window towards the Forbidden Forest, shuddering. That place was terrifying and Hermione vowed then
and there never to go into the forest ever again.

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**End notes: And there we go! We have two chapters left and then it's on to Chamber of
Secrets! Squeal with me, people!**

**ALSO****, I'm starting to work on another fanfic (H/Hr of course!). I know that I
barely have time to** **write Her Story but my muse won't leave this plot alone. The song
Hand of Sorrow by Within Temptation is what inspired me. Here's the summary:**

**“****The child without a name grew up to be the** **hand****.** **To watch you,
to shield you, or kill on demand****. H/Hr.”**

**Not sure when the first chapter will be posted, but keep an eye out for it!**

**Please leave a little comment on what you thought of this chapter. I love hearing feedback
from my readers and it definitely motivates me to finish my homework faster!**

**Kelci**

-->



20. Eighteen - The Makings of a Leader
--------------------------------------



**Chapter Eighteen**

**“****The Makings of a** **Leader****”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit. ALSO, I used some of the text from the**
**Philosopher's Stone** **and that most definitely belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

**Note One: A big thanks to** **the_scribbler** **for being my awesomesauce
beta/editor!**

**Note Two: BAM! How do you like this fast update?! This chapter just came to me so easily and
I wanted to treat you to another chapter, especially since I had SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS
ONE!!!**

**Thank you so much for the reviews! I love reading them all - it gives me a warm fuzzy feeling
in these cold Canadian falls. It was interesting to see how many people commented on the severity
of the detention and plot holes by JKR.**

**Note Three****: I will warn everyone here and now: this chapter will have a LOT of canon
in it. I'm sorry if people are put off by it, but it has to happen for the story to progress. I
just hope I've done a good enough job making it refreshing reading through Hermione's
POV.**

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**4 June****,** **1992**

Hermione sighed, leaning back on her elbows and lifting her face to the sun, enjoying the
warmth. It was a beautiful day, just warm enough without it being unbearably hot and perfectly
fitting the mood of the students. They had just taken their last exam and now had a week of
relaxation before their results came back.

Hermione, Harry, and Ron were lounging out by the lake, as many other students were. Hermione
and Ron were leaning back, enjoying themselves and getting drowsy in the heat. Harry was propped up
against the tree, rubbing his scar idly while staring blankly out over the lake. He had begun to
act weirdly ever since he and Hermione had returned from their detention in the Forbidden Forest,
more quiet and reserved. Not only that, he started complaining that he'd get sharp pains where
his scar was and Ron had told Hermione that Harry had started having nightmares.

“I wish I knew what this means!” Harry burst out angrily, making Hermione and Ron jump.

“Is your scar hurting?” Ron asked.

“Yes,” Harry nodded, “it's hurt before, but not like this. It's almost constant
now.”

“Maybe you should go to Madam Pomfrey?” Hermione suggested, sitting up.

“I'm not ill,” Harry sighed. “Its… it's a warning - I *know* it is. Something bad
is going to happen.”

“Relax, Harry,” Ron said, stretching. “Hermione's right - as long as Dumbledore is here,
we'll be fine.”

Harry huffed and went back to staring out at the lake. Hermione and Ron exchanged looks, both of
them lying back down. Hermione could understand why Harry was worried about You-Know-Who and the
Stone, she was too, but she did think that he was being a little dramatic.

Hermione didn't know how much had passed when Harry suddenly sprang to his feet. “What are
you doing?” she asked, struggling to get up. Ron gave a loud yawn and sat up, his reaction time a
lot slower than Hermione's.

“Don't you find it odd that what Hagrid wants more than anything is a dragon egg,” Harry
began, pacing in front of them, “and a random stranger just *happens* to show up with a dragon
egg in his pocket? Dragons are against wizarding law. Hagrid was either extremely lucky or…”

Harry's eyes widened and he suddenly took off in a full sprint towards Hagrid's hut.
Hermione and Ron scrambled up and ran after him.

“What are you getting at, Harry?” Hermione huffed, trying to keep up. Harry didn't reply and
kept running toward the hut.

Hagrid was sitting on his step shelling peas when Harry skidded to a halt in front of him. He
looked up in surprise as Hermione and Ron caught up to them.

“Hagrid,” Harry panted, “that stranger at the pub who gave you Norbert, what did he look
like?”

“I don' know,” Hagrid replied after a moment, “he wouldn' take his cloak off.”

“He wouldn't take his cloak off,” Hermione repeated.

“It's not like that's unusual,” he defended. “A lot o' people don' want ter be
seen at the Hog's Head. Could've been a dragon dealer, couldn' he?”

“What did you talk about with him, Hagrid?” Harry pressed. “Did you mention Hogwarts at
all?”

“Mighta come up,” Hagrid stroked his beard, trying to remember. “We talked abou' all sorts
of things… yeah, he asked what I did an' I told him I was groundskeeper here… he seemed
interested in the different creatures I looked after an' kept askin' abou' them. I
can' remember much, he kept buyin' me drinks… Let's see… yeah I told him what I really
wanted was a dragon an' he said he happened to have an egg in his pocket an' we could play
a few cards if I wanted. He wasn' sure if I could handle a dragon so I told him after Fluffy
anythin'd be easy.”

“And did he seem interested in Fluffy?” Harry asked.

“Well, yeah, how many three-headed dogs d'yeh meet? I told him Fluffy's a piece of cake,
just gotta know how to calm him down - just play him a bit of music and he falls right ter sleep -
I shouldn' have told yeh that.”

Hermione's eyes widened as she exchanged a horrified look with Harry and Ron. They
didn't even bother to answer Hagrid's questions as they bolted back to the castle, not
speaking to each other until they were in the Entrance Hall.

“We have to tell Dumbledore,” Harry panted. “We've got proof now. Tell him that Hagrid told
a stranger how to get past Fluffy and that it was either Snape or Voldemort underneath that cloak.
It would've been easy to get all that out of Hagrid once he was drunk.”

“Where's Dumbledore's office?” Hermione asked, looking around. They were never told
where the Headmaster's office was. Now that Hermione thought about it, they never saw Professor
Dumbledore except for in the Great Hall.

“What are you three doing inside?” Professor McGonagall asked, coming up behind Harry and
carrying a stack full of books.

“We want to see Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione said, squaring her shoulders.

“See Professor Dumbledore?” Professor McGonagall repeated suspiciously. “Why?”

“It's sort of a secret,” Harry said. Hermione groaned, knowing that it was the wrong thing
to say to the professor.

“Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago,” she replied coldly, her nostrils flaring. “He
received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once.”

“He's gone?” Hermione, Harry, and Ron gasped.

“Professor, this is important,” Hermione pleaded.

“Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Miss Granger?”
Professor McGonagall challenged. Hermione felt herself shrink under the Deputy Headmistress's
gaze.

“Professor, it's - it's about the Philosopher's Stone,” Harry said quietly.

Professor McGonagall's mouth dropped open as the books tumbled out of her arms. “How - how
do you know about that?” she sputtered.

“Professor, I think - no, I *know* that someone's going to steal it,” Harry explained
desperately. “We've got to speak to Professor Dumbledore!”

“Professor Dumbledore will return tomorrow,” she replied. The shock had evaporated and she was
now eyeing the three students suspiciously. “I have no idea how you three found out about it, but I
can assure you that the Stone is well protected.”

“But Professor-”

“I know what I'm talking about, Potter,” Professor McGonagall snapped. “Professor Dumbledore
will be back tomorrow. Now I suggest that you three go outside and enjoy the weather.”

Professor McGonagall scooped up the books and turned on her heel. Hermione, Harry, and Ron
turned to each other, feeling helpless.

“Now what?” Ron asked. “With Dumbledore gone…”

“Snape's going to steal the Stone tonight,” Harry said, glancing around them. “He's
found everything that he needs to know and now Dumbledore is out of his way.”

Hermione glanced up above Harry's head as he spoke, her eyes widening as she saw Professor
Snape himself walking toward them. “Shut up,” she hissed. The two of them quietened immediately as
Professor Snape sauntered up to them.

“Well, well, well,” Professor Snape drawled, looking at them. Harry and Ron paled, turning to
look up at him. “What are three young first years doing inside on such a beautiful day?”

“Prof-” Hermione began.

“You should be careful of where you linger,” he continued, interrupting her. “People may think
you're up to something, and you can't afford to lose any more points.”

“We weren't-” Harry started.

“If I hear of anymore night time wonderings, I'll personally see that you're expelled.
Have a good day.” Professor Snape sneered at them as he walked off.

Harry motioned for Hermione and Ron to follow him. “Here's what we'll do,” he whispered
urgently, glancing at Professor Snape as he entered the staff room, “one of us will wait outside of
the staff room and follow Snape when he leaves it. Hermione, it'd be best if you do that.”

“What?” Hermione asked. “Why me?”

“It's obvious, isn't it?” Ron rolled his eyes. “Just pretend to ask for Flitwick or
someone. Oh please, Professor -” Ron raised his voice an octave and batted his eyelashes, “-I think
I missed a question on the exam.”

“Shut up,” Hermione flushed, glaring at Ron. She glanced at Harry, who was staring at her, and
sighed. “Fine, I'll do it.”

“Ron and I will be outside of Fluffy's room,” Harry continued, nodding. “Good luck,
Hermione.”

Hermione wished them good luck as well and walked over to the staff room. She paused, staring at
the door and frowned. Where to stand? If she stood right outside of the staff room, she'd be
caught right away if Professor Snape exited. But if she stood around a corner…

Glancing around, Hermione hurried down the corridor and around the corner, plastering herself
against the wall. She felt tingles of adrenaline spread through her body as she began to wait - she
felt like one of the spies she'd read of in her books.

After about fifteen minutes, Hermione heard the door to the staff room open and close. She
slowly glanced around the corner to see who it was that had exited and was knocked to the ground as
Professor Quirrell came barrelling around the corner.

“S-so sorry, M-M-Miss G-Granger,” he stuttered, glancing over his shoulder and rushing off down
the corridor. Hermione gaped at the Professor in shock from her place on the ground. He hadn't
even stopped to help her up!

“I thought I told you to go outside, Granger.”

Hermione gasped and looked up. Professor Snape stood behind her, his arms crossed and lip curled
up as he looked down at her.

“I was waiting for Professor Flitwick!” she said automatically. “I had a question about the
exam.”

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow. “You were waiting for him on the floor?” he asked.

Hermione went red as she scrambled up, straightening her robes. “No! I, um, Professor Quirrell
came around the corner and -” she broke off, feeling flustered. “I'm just waiting for Professor
Flitwick, that's all.”

“I'll go get him for you,” Professor Snape drawled. Hermione's protests went unheard and
Professor Snape went back into the staff room. He reappeared with Professor Flitwick moments
later.

“You had a question about the exam, Miss Granger?” Professor Flitwick asked.

“Yes, I did,” Hermione trailed off. Professor Snape walked away, striding quickly in the
direction Professor Quirrell had gone.

“Well, what is it?” Professor Flitwick asked.

Hermione jumped, looking back at the tiny professor. “I, um,” she wracked her brains, trying to
come up with what to say, “I think I got question sixteen-b wrong on the exam.”

“Oh,” he blinked. Glancing around, he put his hand on Hermione's arm and led her away from
the staff room. “I'm not supposed to be saying this, Miss Granger, but you needn't worry
about missing a question.”

“What are you talking about?” Hermione asked, Professor Snape momentarily forgotten.

“You didn't miss any questions,” Professor Flitwick beamed. “You got full marks!
Congratulations, Miss Granger!”

“I what?” she gasped, feeling her face heat up. “I got full marks?”

“You even got the bonus questions right,” he replied. “You should feel very proud of yourself,
Miss Granger. I think we can expect great things from you.”

“T-thank you, Professor,” she muttered, blushing.

“If that's all, why don't you go find your friends?” Professor Flitwick suggested. “But
make sure to keep the fact that I gave your marks back early a secret.”

“I will,” Hermione said, smiling. Professor Flitwick went back into the staff room and she
turned around, hurrying down the corridor Professor Snape had gone down. She stopped when she was
met with a set of stairs and two separate corridors.

“Blast!” Hermione groaned, stomping her foot. She had no idea which way he had gone.

Hermione left for the third floor, hoping that Harry and Ron were there. Her heart sank when she
didn't see them and she hurried to the Gryffindor common room. She spotted Harry and Ron as
soon as she climbed through the portrait hole, sitting on a couch and looking sullen.

“I'm sorry!” she said immediately. No one was in the common room so Hermione didn't
worry about keeping her voice down. “Snape came out and saw me and then got Professor Flitwick when
I asked for him. By the time I got away, I couldn't find him!”

“McGonagall spotted us near Fluffy's room,” Ron grumbled. “She threatened to take away more
points if we stuck around.”

“That isn't all, Harry,” Hermione said. She told them about Professor Quirrell's actions
and Professor Snape following him.

“Well that's it then, isn't it?” Harry asked, standing up. Hermione and Ron gave him
curious looks. “I'll go out tonight and just get to the Stone first.”

“What?” Hermione cried.

“You're mad!” Ron said, standing up.

“You can't!” Hermione said, standing up and going over to Harry. “It's too dangerous!
And after everything you've been through - you'll be expelled!”

“If I let Snape just get the Stone there won't be a Hogwarts to be expelled from!” Harry
bellowed. Hermione took a step back in surprise. “If I don't try to do something, Snape will
get the Stone and Voldemort will be back. You've read the history books, Hermione. You know
what it was like when he was in power. If I don't do anything, it'll all come back! Losing
points, Gryffindor winning the House Cup - *none* of that will matter. Hogwarts will be
flattened and turned into a school for Dark Arts! If I get caught before I get to the Stone,
I'll just go back to the Dursleys and wait for Voldemort to finish me off there. It's only
dying a little later than I would have done, because I'm never going to the Dark Side!”

Harry finished his rant slightly out of breath. Hermione stared at him, a strange sensation
churning in her gut. Looking into Harry's eyes, so filled with passion and determination,
Hermione believed that they could get the Stone before Professor Snape. She glanced at Ron, who
nodded and turned to Harry.

“Well it's a good thing you have your Invisibility cloak back,” he stated. “Don't know
if it'll fit all three of us, though.”

“All three of us?” Harry repeated.

“We're coming with you,” Hermione said briskly with a roll of her eyes. “How do you think
you can get the Stone without us? I'll just go grab my notes and look over them until we
leave…”

“Hermione. Ron.” Harry said softly, look at his two friends. “Thank you.”

**<><><>**

Hermione, Harry, and Ron spent the evening in the common room in a corner. No one bothered them;
the Gryffindors were still sore towards them for losing the points and Fay was off with Shae
somewhere. Hermione had her notes from the year laid out on the table she was sitting at, going
over them in hopes of finding something they could use later that night. Harry and Ron sat quietly
by the fire.

Eventually the common room cleared out. Harry quickly went up to his dorm to grab the
Invisibility cloak and Hermione quickly gathered her notes up.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked, returning with the cloak draped over his arm. In his other hand
was a wooden recorder so they could play music to put Fluffy asleep. “There's still time to
back out.”

“You're daft if you think we aren't going with you,” Ron retorted, not giving Harry a
chance to say more.

“We better put the cloak on in here to make sure it covers the three of us,” Hermione advised,
starting to feel nervous. “If Filch catches us before we get there it'll be a wa-”

“What are you doing?”

Hermione, Harry, and Ron spun around to see Neville emerge from behind an armchair, a struggling
Trevor in his hands.

“Nothing, Neville,” Harry said quickly. “Go back to bed.”

“You're going out again,” he accused.

“No, we aren't,” Hermione said quickly. “What makes you think that?”

“You can't go out!” Neville replied. “You'll get Gryffindor into more trouble again.

“You don't understand, Neville,” Harry pleaded, “this is important.”

Hermione could see Neville square his shoulders. “I won't let you!” he declared, dropping
Trevor. The toad leapt for freedom as Neville hurried over to the portrait hole. “You'll have
to fight me!”

“Don't be an idiot, Neville - get away from the portrait hole!” Ron snapped.

“Don't call me an idiot!” Neville retorted. “You told me to stick up for myself!”

“Not to me!”

“Hermione, do something.” Harry whispered, turning to her.

Hermione bit her lip. They didn't have time to be dealing with this. She took a deep breath
and withdrew her wand, pointing it at Neville. If there was a chance they could be expelled for
what they were about to do, she may as well not hold back. “Neville, I'm *really* sorry
about this,” she said. Ron and Neville stopped bickering to stare at Hermione. “*Petrificus
Totalus!*”

Neville's arms and legs snapped together. Hermione could see his eyes widen momentarily
before he lost his balance and fell face first onto the floor.

“I'm so sorry, Neville!” Hermione apologized, running over to him and turning him over.
Neville's eyes looked between the three of them in horror.

“Sorry Neville,” Harry said grimly. “We had to, there's no time to explain.”

“You'll understand later,” Ron said apologetically.

Although Hermione felt it wasn't a good idea to just leave Neville on the floor, Hermione
knew that they were running out of time. She, Harry, and Ron put on the Invisibility cloak out of
Neville's range of sight and quickly headed out of the common room. They walked as fast as they
dared down to the third floor, trying to hurry to make up for the time they had lost but not make
too much noise. The air around them was tense once they hit the third floor. Their footsteps echoed
loudly down the corridor as they approached Fluffy's room.

The door was slightly ajar when they reached the room, making what they were about to do seem so
much more real. Harry handed the recorder to Hermione, whispering to her that she should play it
once they entered the room. Hermione nodded, gripping the recorder tightly to her chest. She
remembered the recorder lessons they were forced to take in primary school and hoped she could
remember a tune.

“Are you ready?” Harry whispered.

“Let's do this,” Ron said, exhaling.

Hermione put the recorder up to her lips as Harry slowly inched the door open. The three heads
immediately turned to the open door, unable to see Hermione, Ron, and Harry but sniffing madly in
their direction. They began to growl loudly and Ron hit Hermione on the arm, hissing at her to
play. She licked her lips and quickly began to play *Hot Cross Buns*.

Six eyes began to droop immediately as Hermione played. Fluffy slumped to the ground and was
fast asleep minutes later. Hermione kept her eyes on the dog as she kept playing, barely allowing
herself to take a breath for fear of Fluffy waking up.

“What's that?” Ron asked, pulling the cloak off of them. Hermione could see him point off to
the side but didn't allow herself to look, her eyes trained on Fluffy.

“Looks like a harp. Snape must've left it,” Harry whispered, tossing the cloak into a corner
of the room. He inched closer to Fluffy, eyeing him carefully as he bent down and grabbed one of
the rings of the trap door. Ron walked beside Harry as the trap door swung open.

“You can't see anything,” Harry said to Hermione, looking over his shoulder. “It's just
black, and nothing to climb down on either.”

“Looks like we're jumping,” Ron whispered. He glanced at Hermione and Harry. “Who wants to
go first?”

“I will,” Harry said immediately.

Hermione watched fearfully as Harry sat down on the edge of the trap door. Her heart began to
pound loudly in her chest. There was no way of knowing what was at the bottom, what if Harry needed
a spell to break his fall? Her playing faltered slightly as she watched Harry lower himself until
he was gripping the edge with his hands.

“If anything happens to me, go to the Owlery and send a message for Dumbledore,” Harry said,
gritting his teeth. “Don't come after me until I say it's okay.”

Ron agreed and suddenly Harry was gone. Hermione stopped playing the recorder as she tried to
listen for a sign that Harry made it to the bottom. As soon as the music stopped, a low grumbling
came from the head to her right.

“Keep playing, Hermione!” Ron warned.

Hermione took a deep breath and blew into the recorder, no long bothering with playing a song.
The growling ceased and Fluffy went back to sleep just as Harry's voice echoed up through the
trap door.

“It's okay! It's a soft landing!”

Ron glanced at Hermione and lowered himself down through the trap door. “See you in a minute,”
he grunted. Hermione nodded as Ron jumped, slowly walking over to the trap door herself. Her
stomach began to churn violently, nerves wracking her body.

“Come on, Hermione!” Harry called.

Hermione sat down on the edge, her heart in her throat as she stared at the darkness below. With
a deep breath, she chucked the recorder off to the side and pushed off the edge.

Cold, damp air rushed past her as she fell down into the darkness. Trying to hold back a scream,
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, feeling nauseous until she landed with an `*umph*' beside
Harry. She glanced up to where she had dropped; the light from the room just a tiny speck from
where they were sitting. “We must be miles under the school,” she breathed, feeling shaky from the
fall.

“Lucky this plant thing is here,” Ron said.

Hermione glanced at Harry and Ron, her eyes widening. “*Lucky!*” she shrieked. “Look at
you!”

Thin vines had crept their way onto Harry and Ron, binding their legs together. Harry had vines
climbing their way up his torso, restraining his arms. In a knee-jerk reaction, Hermione began
struggling, looking frantically around for a place to escape. She spotted a door off to her right
and began fighting at the vines trying to wrap themselves around her legs. Harry and Ron could be
heard struggling behind her as she made it to the wall, the vines giving up on her and going back
to the two boys.

She turned back and watched in horror as they struggled against the vines, desperately trying to
think of what to do. Suddenly, she realized what the plant was and began jumping up and down. “Stop
struggling!” she screamed. “I know what this is! It's the Devil's Snare!”

“I'm so glad you can remember what it's called,” Ron snarled, struggling with a vine
that was trying to wrap around his neck. “It's a great help that we know what will kill
us!”

“Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!” Hermione growled. “Devil's Snare…
Devil's Snare… oh what did Professor Sprout say? It likes dark and damp places -”

“So light a fire!” Harry choked out.

Hermione didn't need to be told twice. She whipped out her wand and sent out a jet of
bluebell flames, watching in relief as the vines began to retract themselves. Harry and Ron managed
to free themselves and hurried over to where Hermione was by the wall.

“It's a good thing you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione,” Harry panted, wiping the sweat
from his forehead.

“A *very* good thing,” Ron agreed, leaning against the wall.

After taking a moment to regroup, the trio headed through the door and into the next room. A
horrible stench greeted them, making Hermione gag and draw her sleeve up to her nose. In front of
them was an unconscious mountain troll, almost twice the size of the one they had fought against in
the girl's bathroom back on Halloween.

“I'm so glad we don't have to go up against that,” Ron moaned, almost green as they
passed by.

They went through the next door, which led them down a long, damp corridor. As they got closer
to the open door at the end of the corridor, Hermione could hear a soft fluttering and clinking
sound.

“What do you think that is?” Hermione asked.

“It sounds like wings to me,” Harry muttered. He walked through the doorway and glanced up. At
least one hundred brightly coloured birds flew around a high-ceilinged room, fluttering and bumping
into each other.

“There's a door at the other end,” Harry pointed out. He glanced up at the birds and then
took off across the room, his arms shielding his head in case the birds swooped down. Hermione and
Ron yelled out to him as he ran across the room. The birds didn't attack Harry, and he made it
to the other side of the room. Hermione and Ron ran across and joined Harry as he was yanking on
the door. “It's locked,” he cursed.

Hermione pointed her wand at the door and cast *Alohomora*, groaning when the door
didn't budge.

“Those aren't birds,” Harry said suddenly, gazing up at them. “They're keys! We must
have to find the one that unlocks this door. Yes - there are brooms over there.”

“How, though?” Hermione asked, glancing up as well. “There must be at least a hundred keys up
there.”

“We're looking for a big, old fashioned one,” Ron said, examining the lock. “Probably
silver, like the handle.”

They grabbed the broomsticks that were off to the side, lifting up into the cloud of jewelled
keys. Hermione tried to stay as low as possible, her flying skills hadn't improved much and she
didn't want to risk an unfortunate accident.

There was silence as they tried to find a key that matched Ron's description. Hermione felt
herself getting frustrated after only minutes of looking - the keys were moving too fast for
Hermione to see them in clear detail.

“There!” Harry shouted suddenly. Hermione and Ron turned to see Harry pointing off in the
distance. “That big one there with the bright blue wings! The feathers are all crumbled on one
side.”

It took Hermione a moment, but she finally saw what Harry was pointing at. She grinned. Harry
wasn't the youngest Seeker in a century for nothing. Ron sped up toward the key just as Harry
came at it from the side, nearly hitting him. Hermione bit back a scream as Ron nearly hit the
ceiling, managing to regain control of the broom just in time.

“We'll have to go at it together,” Harry called. “Hermione, circle it from below in case it
tries to go down. Ron you come at it from above and I'll come from this side.”

They got into position and waited for Harry to give the order to go. He did and he and Ron sped
toward the key, Hermione rising slightly just in case the key tried to come her way. The key dodged
Ron's attempt to grab it, but wasn't able to escape Harry.

Hermione and Ron cheered as Harry made his way back to the ground. They followed, Hermione
jumping off the broom as soon as she could and rushing towards the door. She could see the key
struggling viciously in Harry's grasp as he unlocked the door. He swung it open and let the key
go, now looking extremely rumpled.

“Ready?” Harry asked, a grin on his face. Hermione and Ron nodded and followed Harry through the
door.

The room on the other side was pitch-black. Hermione glanced around, clutching Harry and
Ron's arms so she wouldn't lose them in the darkness as they stepped forward. She
didn't have to do that, as soon as they took a few steps into the room flames roared from the
walls, igniting candles and torches.

They were standing on an enormous, life sized chess board. Black chess pieces were placed in
front of them, the pawns as large as Hermione. Facing them on the opposite side were daunting
looking white chess pieces, blocking the path to the door.

“I think we have to play our way across the board,” Ron surmised, glancing at the two sides.

“How?” Hermione asked nervously.

Ron studied the black pieces, walking up and reaching out to touch the horse of a knight. The
horse sprang to life, pawing the ground as the knight turned its helmeted head to face Ron.

“Do we, er, have to join you to get across?” he asked, looking uncomfortable.

The knight nodded. Ron exhaled and turned to look at Hermione and Harry. “I suppose we have to
take the place of three black pieces and win,” he said slowly, eyeing the two of them. “No offence
or anything, but the two of you are rubbish at chess -”

“We're not offended,” Harry said quickly. “Just tell us where to go and what to do.”

Ron nodded and turned back, surveying the chess board once again. “Right,” he finally said,
“Harry you take the place of that bishop and Hermione - go next to him instead of that castle.
I'll take the place of this knight.”

The black pieces Ron mentioned sprang to life immediately, walking off to the side of the chess
board. Hermione gingerly stepped into her spot, glancing nervously at Ron as he clambered up onto
the horse's back. The Devil's Snare was dangerous, the mountain troll had been unconscious,
so it didn't pose a threat to them, and the keys were more of an annoyance than anything.
*This*, however, was dangerous - and had the potential to turn deadly. She had been scared for
most of the duration of their adventure, but this task was the first time Hermione felt actual fear
of one of them getting injured.

“Don't worry, Hermione,” Harry reassured, giving her a smile as he moved into place.
“Ron's never lost a game of chess.”

Hermione gave a weak smile, turning back to the front as the white side moved a pawn forward.
She took a deep breath, knowing that the game had begun.

Ron began to direct the black pieces around the board confidently. Hermione and Harry followed
whatever Ron said to them unquestioningly, knowing that the redhead had a plan. That didn't
stop Hermione from trembling when their first piece was taken. The white queen was ruthless,
smashing the other black knight to the floor and dragging him off the board.

“Had to let that happen,” Ron said shakily, paling slightly. “That leaves you free to take that
bishop, Hermione. Go on.”

Ron danced around the chessboard, taking white piece after white piece. There were some narrow
misses - he realized just in time that Hermione was about to be taken by a knight and got her out
of harm's way. That had been a little too close for Hermione's comfort.

“We're nearly there,” Ron muttered, glancing around the board.

“Wait a minute,” Harry said suddenly, glancing around. “Ron…”

“I have to,” Ron replied, shaking his head solemnly.

“Have to what?” Hermione asked, glancing between the two of them. “What's going on?”

“I have to be taken,” Ron said, a slight tremor in his voice.

“No!” Hermione shouted.

“You can't, Ron!” Harry agreed.

“Do you want to stop Snape from getting the Stone or not?” Ron snapped, glaring at the two of
them. “It's the only way for us to win the game - it leaves you to checkmate the king,
Harry.”

“Ron, you can't!” Hermione cried, feeling tears prickle her eyes.

“I have to,” he repeated, more to himself than to Hermione and Harry. He turned to look at them.
“If we don't hurry, Snape will have the Stone!”

“Fine,” Harry said, gritting his teeth.

“Right” Ron nodded, a look of determination on his face. “Once I'm hit, don't stay
around - go straight after Snape.”

Hermione bit her lip, her hands grasping each other as she watched Ron direct his horse. The
queen pounced immediately, striking Ron hard on the head with her arm and sending him flying from
his mount. Hermione and Harry screamed as Ron hit the chessboard hard, rubble and pieces of stone
hitting him.

“Hurry, Harry!” Hermione shrieked. Ron wasn't moving from where he was lying and she knew
she couldn't go see if he was alright until the game was over.

Harry walked over to the king and stared up at him. There was a pause, and Hermione thought for
a terrifying moment that Ron had miscalculated. Then, the white king took the crown off his
expressionless head and tossed it to Harry's feet. The chess pieces disintegrated into dust
moments later, leaving the chessboard empty except for the three Gryffindors.

Hermione made to run for Ron, but Harry intercepted. He grabbed her arm and sprinted across the
chessboard, pulling Hermione behind him.

“But what if he's-” Hermione protested, looking back at Ron's limp form.

“He's fine,” Harry said shortly, staring straight ahead. “We have to hurry. If Snape got the
Stone first then Ron's sacrifice will have been worthless.”

“We should be reaching the end soon,” Hermione said, trying to keep her mind off of them leaving
Ron. “I think we just have Snape's left…”

Harry pushed open the door, still grasping Hermione's arm. As they entered the room, purple
flames sprang up behind them, blocking their exit. In front of them was a small table that held
seven different shaped bottles. Ahead of them, black flames were blocking the door to the next
room. The set up was so simple but looked so intimidating.

Harry dropped Hermione's arm and approached the table, picking up a note that was on the
table. Hermione waited as he read it, her stomach sinking as his expression turned to frustration.
“What is it?” she asked.

Harry thrust it at her, running a hand through his hair. She took the note and read, relief
spreading through her as she got through it. It wasn't magic at all - the last task was a
riddle! She let out a laugh and shook her head.

“What's so funny?” Harry asked.

“This isn't magic,” she breathed, a huge smile on her face. “It's logic - a puzzle. A
lot of great wizards can wave a wand, but they haven't got an ounce of logic to be able to
solve this.”

“And you can?” Harry asked.

“My father and I used to do puzzles like this all the time!” Hermione grinned. She read over the
note, pointing at the different vials and making mental notes to where they were. After about five
minutes, she clapped her hand together and picked up the smallest vial. “This one here will lead us
through the black fire - toward the Stone.”

“There's only enough for one of us to go through,” Harry said, taking the small bottle from
Hermione and examining it. He looked up at her. “Which one will get you back through the purple
flames?”

Hermione picked up a rounded bottle.

“You take this and go back to Ron,” he said. “No - listen to me. Go back to Ron. Grab the brooms
from the flying-key room. They'll get you through the trapdoor and past Fluffy - then you need
to get to the Owlery as fast as you can and send Hedwig to Dumbledore. *We need him*. I may be
able to hold of Snape for a while, but I'm not able to go against an adult.”

“But what if You-Know-Who is with him?”

“I was lucky once, wasn't I?” Harry stated, pointing to the scar on his forehead. “I might
get lucky again.”

Hermione felt her bottom lip tremble as she tried to hold back her tears. It got too much to her
and she threw her arms around Harry, giving him a huge hug.

“Hermione!” Harry squeaked, going rigid.

“You're a great wizard, Harry,” she whispered, squeezing him.

“Not as good as you,” Harry murmured, clearly embarrassed.

“Me - books and cleverness,” she gave a shaky laugh, pulling back but not letting go of Harry.
“There are more important things like friendship and bravery… oh, *Harry* - please be
*careful*!”

“I will be,” Harry returned her hug and then stepped back. “You go first - you're sure these
are the right vials?”

“Yes, I'm sure.”

“Then go.”

Hermione nodded and uncorked the vial, tipping it back and gulping it down. She shuddered,
feeling her entire insides turning to ice. She reassured Harry that it was the right vial and then
turned to the purple flames. “Be careful, Harry,” she reiterated.

“Go!” he urged.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and ran through the flames. She couldn't feel them and as
soon as she was on the other side, the icy sensation wore off. She looked back at the flames, her
brow creasing with worry. “Please come back, Harry,” she whispered.

With a last fleeting look at the purple flames, Hermione turned on her heel and ran as fast as
she could back to the room with the chessboard. Ron was still lying where they had left him and she
skidded to his side, moaning when she saw a trickle of dried blood from his hairline.

“Ron,” Hermione whispered, scared to touch him. “Ron, wake up. Ron!”

Her heart soared when she saw Ron's eyelids flutter. “S'matter?” he groaned.
“Hermione?”

“Ron we have to get out of here,” Hermione rushed out, checking the wound on his head. It had
stopped bleeding which she took for a good sign. “Harry's gone after Snape alone and we
*need* to get help - *now!*”

Ron's eyes snapped open and he shot up, groaning and clutching his head. “Are you okay?”
Hermione asked, grabbing his shoulders to steady him.

“Fine,” he grunted out, blinking furiously. “I'm fine. We have to get out of here!”

Hermione stood up, helping Ron to get up. He was a little unsteady on his feet, having to focus
to get his balance. She bit her lip - Ron had to be taken to the Hospital Wing. She knew he had a
concussion from the hit he took.

“Let's go!” Ron said, running out the door.

Hermione bolted after him, staying behind him in case he lost his balance. “Harry said to take
the brooms up the trap door,” she called. “Can you do that?”

“I'm fine, Hermione,” Ron bit out. Hermione pursed her lips, she knew he wasn't fine but
they had to get help for Harry first. Once they hit the room with the keys, Hermione didn't
even hesitate in picking up the broom. She waited for Ron, who took a moment to get steady on his
own broom, before kicking off. She pressed her body against the broom to make it go faster,
remembering all the tricks Harry talked about while riding. She bolted up through the trap door,
Ron right behind her. Fluffy gave a startled bark and began to growl low in his three throats.

The door burst open magically and Hermione was suddenly holding Harry's Invisibility cloak.
She didn't question it, and they made it through the door before Fluffy was able to snap at
them.

“Go to the Hospital Wing, Ron!” Hermione said, dismounting the broom. She tied the cloak around
her waist, making sure that her robe was covering most of it.

“No, I'm going with you to the Owlery,” Ron disagreed. He dismounted the broom, swaying a
bit before managing to regain his balance.

Hermione groaned, they didn't have time to be arguing about this. In what Hermione would
later consider to be one of her more reckless decisions, she turned around and bolted down the
stairs. She could hear Ron behind her, panting loudly.

She didn't care about getting caught by Filch or a teacher, nor did she care about losing
points or expulsion. All Hermione could think about was getting to the Owlery in time to save
Harry. She cursed Hogwarts' elaborate set up, hating the fact that they had to go down to the
main floor to get to the other side they needed to be on.

As they hit the Entrance Hall, Hermione heard Ron give a loud grunt. She looked back over his
shoulder to see him lose his balance and stumble.

“Ron!” Hermione cried, scrambling back to him. She helped him sit down as he held his head,
groaning. “Stay here, Ron. I'll go to the -”

“Miss Granger! Mister Weasley!”

Hermione's blood turned to ice as she turned to see Professor McGonagall striding out of the
staff room with a furious expression on her face.

“Professor!” Hermione cried desperately. “We need help! *Please!*”

“What happened?” As soon as Professor McGonagall took in Hermione's dirty appearance and the
blood on Ron's face, her expression turned to shock and she hurried over to them. She bent
down, gently wiping the blood from Ron's temple. “Don't tell me you three went down -”

“What's going on?”

Hermione looked as another person emerged from the staff room, her eyes bulging. “*You!*”
she sputtered, staring incredulously as Professor Snape came striding up to them. “No, no, no,
*no* - you're not supposed to be here!”

“I beg your pardon?” Professor Snape asked, sneering. “You remember what I told you, Granger.
Any more night time wondering and you're expelled.”

“Severus!” Professor McGonagall hissed, helping Ron up. “This isn't the time! We need to get
these children to the Hospital Wing.”

“No, no, no,” Hermione repeated, feeling hysterical. “*You* aren't supposed to be
*here*! You're supposed to be down there trying to get the Stone!”

“*What?*” Both Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall gaped at Hermione.

“Harry's down there and if you aren't then that means someone else is,” Ron groaned, his
eyes unfocused.

“We have to get Professor Dumbledore!” Hermione shrieked, her vision blurring as tears pooled in
her eyes. The events of the evening caught up to her and she felt herself begin to hyperventilate -
she was having a full blown panic attack. “Harry's down there and - *oh Lord* -
Harry's *down there* and he needs help!”

“Harry's gone after him, hasn't he?”

Everyone turned in shock to see the Headmaster himself came striding toward them from the
staircase opposite to where they were. His blue eyes took in Hermione and Ron. “Take these two the
Hospital Wing.”

Professor Dumbledore didn't stop as he talked, rushing past them and back up the stairs.
Professor McGonagall snapped out of her daze, took out her wand, and waved it. Ron was lifted up in
the air on an invisible stretcher as he stared after Professor Dumbledore.

“Severus!” Professor McGonagall hissed. The Potions master cast a glance at Hermione before
hurrying after the Headmaster. Professor McGonagall hissed angrily at him and put her arm around
Hermione, pulling her into her side. “Come on, dear. We'll get the two of you to the Hospital
Wing.”

“Harry - h-he'll be alright, r-right?” Hermione stuttered, trying to breath. Sobs wracked
her body as visions of what happened that night flashed through her head. The vines wrapping around
Harry and Ron, Ron being hit and knocked unconscious, Harry's figure as Hermione left him to go
face whoever it was that was after the Stone…

“Professor Dumbledore will be there soon,” Professor McGonagall soothed. With her wand in one
hand, she led the invisible stretcher Ron was on up the stairs, her other arm rubbing
Hermione's own arm soothingly as she took them to the Hospital Wing.

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**End Note: And there you have it. I hope you don't think Hermione's reaction over
dramatic. You have to remember: she is only twelve and she went through a traumatic experience.
It's only natural that she went into shock.**

**A****side from that, there you go! One more chapter and then we're on book two! I
can't believe we're here. I'm so excited!!**

**As always, I love to hear your feedback. Please leave a review, I read every one of them and
try to reply to as many as I can.**

**Kelci**

-->



21. Nineteen: Days of Summer
----------------------------



**Chapter Nineteen**

**“Days of Summer****”**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of
Joanne K. Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted. I make no money from any of this.**
**I'm just taking her world and tweaking it a bit. ALSO, I used some of the text from the**
**Philosopher's Stone** **and that most definitely belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

**Note One: A big thanks to** **the_scribbler** **for being my awesomesauce
beta/editor!**

**Note Two: There is a** **VERY IMPORTANT A/N** **at** **the end of this chapter
regarding the** **next year of Her Story****. Please read it if you want to be in the
loop.**

**Note Three: Hey guys! Hope everyone had a nice Halloween, Thanksgiving (both American and
Canadian), and any other holidays I've missed. I'm so sorry for making you wait so long for
this chapter, school has been kicking my butt and when you're writing for 5 hours at school and
then have to write some more for homework, writing is kind of the last thing you want to do to
unwind. But the course is wrapping up, I have 2 weeks for Christmas hols, a month of school and
then a month before my next term starts so I'm hoping to get at least a good chunk of Chamber
of Secrets done by then.**

**Without further ado, I give you the last chapter of Hermione's first year. Cookies for
all of you who get the two AVPS references I snuck in.**

**Enjoy!**

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**5 June, 1992**

It took Hermione a few moments to remember where she was and why she was there when she woke up
the next morning. Everything came rushing back to her, however, when she glanced over and saw Harry
and Ron's unconscious forms lying in the beds next to her. Fear, relief, terror, and guilt
coursed through her as she stared at Harry, horror becoming the dominant emotion as she spotted the
burnt hand print marks around Harry's neck.

With a strangled cry, Hermione kicked her covers back and scrambled to Harry's bedside,
terrified tears filling her eyes as she looked him over. Cuts and bruises were scattered across
Harry's face and, glancing down, Hermione saw that his hands were burned as well. For a second,
all Hermione could do was stare at the burns. There was no way she could've been wrong about
the potion riddle - she had gone over it multiple times before allowing herself to speak. A tear
slipped down Hermione's cheek as she sat down on the edge of Harry's bed. She should never
have left him alone. If she had been there, she could've helped save Harry from whatever or who
ever did this - she could've done *something*.

“Miss Granger, what are you doing out of bed?”

Hermione sprang up from Harry's bed, looking over her shoulder to see Madam Pomfrey hurrying
toward her. Before she could reply, the medic gently pulled Hermione away from Harry and back to
her own bed. “You should be resting,” she scolded, beginning to fuss over Hermione, “you've had
a terrifying experience from what I've heard and need rest.”

“But -” Hermione protested, glancing back Harry, “Those marks on Harry's neck!”

Madam Pomfrey's eyes softened and she stopped her fussing to gently brush back
Hermione's bangs. “Mister Potter will make a full recovery,” she reassured softly, “as will
Mister Weasley.”

“Thank goodness,” Hermione breathed. She felt her shoulders slump in relief and allowed Madam
Pomfrey to continue without protest.

“Now you I need to check over,” Madam Pomfrey said sternly, going from caring nurse to medic
with a mission in a blink of an eye. She whipped out her wand and began waving it over
Hermione's body. “You were so hysterical last night that all I could do was give you a sleeping
potion. I have no idea what was going through your minds - look up at me - it was an
*extremely* foolish and dangerous stunt. I daresay you three are lucky to just be
*slightly* injured.”

Hermione kept quiet and let Madam Pomfrey rant, knowing it wouldn't be the smartest thing if
she talked back. The medic continued her inspection of Hermione until a soft knock from the door
made her pause. They glanced over to see Professor Dumbledore standing in the doorway. Hermione
felt her stomach lurch; she knew the Headmaster was there to talk about what had happened.

“Good afternoon, Poppy,” he greeted, stepping into the Hospital Wing. “I see Miss Granger is
awake.”

“She just woke up,” Madam Pomfrey replied, lowering her wand. “I suppose you're here to
speak with her?”

“If you don't mind,” he said, smiling gently. Madam Pomfrey sighed and nodded, going to her
office. She quickly told Hermione not to leave her bed before the door snapped shut.

Hermione stared nervously as Professor Dumbledore sat on the edge of her bed, her heart speeding
up. She had no idea what was going to happen - were they to be expelled? Professor Snape had said
that they would be if they were caught out after hours again.

“How are you feeling?” Professor Dumbledore began.

“I'm alright,” Hermione replied slowly, staring at the Headmaster warily. “Thank you,
Professor Dumbledore. If you hadn't been there when you were -”

Professor Dumbledore held up his hand to stop Hermione. “Don't play the what-if game,” he
instructed, “instead focus on what happened.”

“What *did* happen?” Hermione asked immediately. She realized she knew nothing about what
had happened other than the person who Harry went to go stop wasn't Professor Snape.

Professor Dumbledore sighed heavily, showing his age for the first time to Hermione. “Miss
Granger,” he began slowly, “you need to understand that what happened last night could've gone
in many different directions. Fortunately, one of the better scenarios happened.”

Hermione frowned. That didn't tell her anything at all. “Who was it?” Hermione asked when
she realized Professor Dumbledore wasn't going to say anything else. “We - we thought that
…Professor Snape was after the Stone.”

Professor Dumbledore gave a soft chuckle. “Yes, I suppose from your perspective, Professor Snape
would be the most likely suspect. But this should be a lesson learned - the most obvious
explanation isn't always the right one.”

“But who was it?” Hermione asked again, feeling frustrated.

Professor Dumbledore sighed. “It was Professor Quirrell,” he admitted.

“What?” Hermione exclaimed. Her eyes widened and she slapped her hand over her mouth when she
realized her volume. “Are you sure?”

“Quite sure, unfortunately,” Professor Dumbledore said seriously.

“Why?” Hermione frowned, her mind reeling.

“I'm afraid I can't answer that question, only Harry can. All I have to offer is that
the Stone has been destroyed.”

“Can't you tell me anything else?” Hermione pleaded. “What happened when you got down there?
Why does it look like Harry was strangled? Did Quirrell do that to him?”

Hermione knew she was working herself up but she couldn't find herself caring. She was
getting frustrated by the lack of information the Headmaster was giving her. Yes, she could
understand not being able to reveal information to just anyone, but Hermione was directly
involved.

“You'll find these things out in time,” Professor Dumbledore said gently, patting her
knee.

Hermione bristled, feeling like a child being patronized. She realized that the door to that
conversation had been closed tightly and sighed. “Are we going to be expelled?” she huffed, going
right onto the next thing she wanted to know.

“Why would you be expelled?” he asked, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

“Professor Snape said if we were caught out after hours we'd be expelled,” Hermione said,
fidgeting.

“Miss Granger, you may not have noticed it but you three did a great service to the wizarding
world if even for a little bit,” Professor Dumbledore said, smiling. He gave a small wink. “I think
we can let it slide this time.”

“Thank you,” she breathed. A sudden thought hit her and she gasped, “Neville! Oh, Professor, we
did something to Neville last night before leaving! We didn't mean to, he didn't deserve it
and he was only trying to stop Gryffindor from getting more points taken away.”

“We already know,” Professor Dumbledore interrupted. “This morning Miss Dunbar and Miss Bevern
found Mister Longbottom petrified and went immediately to Professor McGonagall. No points will be
taken from Gryffindor, but that brings me to another important matter.”

“What is it?” Hermione asked.

“Rumours of what happened between you three and Professor Quirrell have already spread
throughout the school. I must ask that you and Mister Weasley keep what happened a secret.”

“Of course, Professor,” Hermione nodded immediately.

“Thank you, Miss Granger,” Professor Dumbledore smiled gently. He patted her knee again and
instead of feeling frustrated, Hermione felt a calm wash over her. “I'm happy you weren't
seriously hurt. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some a staff meeting to go to. Please tell
Mister Weasley what I told you when he wakes up.” Hermione nodded, noticing that Professor
Dumbledore hadn't mentioned Harry. She had a feeling Harry would be getting a private audience
with the Headmaster just like she did.

**<><><><><>**

Ron finally woke up in the late afternoon, groaning and moaning as Madam Pomfrey fussed over
him. Hermione watched with mild amusement as Madam Pomfrey gave the same rant to Ron as she did to
Hermione as she examined his head. After Madam Pomfrey gave him a potion to help his headache, she
left to go make sure food was being prepared to be brought up.

Hermione took that time to explain everything that Professor Dumbledore had said to her. When
she was finished, Ron leaned back against his pillow with a look of adoration on his face,
“Dumbledore sure is something, isn't he?”

“He is,” Hermione allowed. “But it felt like he wasn't telling me something, he kept
answering my questions in a round-about way.”

“So he may be a bit mad,” Ron shrugged, “he's still brilliant. Shame we can't tell
anyone what happened, though.”

Hermione rolled her eyes but said nothing. She was getting antsy, Harry showed no signs of
waking up soon and that was making her extremely nervous. It didn't help that all she had to do
was look over and see the burn marks on his neck to remind her of what happened. Hatred coursed
through her every time she did and she hoped that Professor Quirrell was being severely
punished.

Madam Pomfrey returned shortly after, telling Hermione and Ron they both would have to stay in
the Hospital Wing for one more night before she would let them go. Hermione and Ron protested
immediately.

“I can understand why Ron should stay,” Hermione said loudly. Ron stopped his protests and
glared at her. “But I'm not hurt at all - I feel fine!”

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips as she narrowed her eyes at Hermione. Hermione instantly realized
she crossed the line with the medic and put her head down. “It's just that I'm bored is
all,” Hermione offered.

She heard Madam Pomfrey sigh. “I'll get one of your classmates to bring up a book or two,”
she appeased. Hermione thanked Madam Pomfrey and watched as she left the Hospital Wing once
again.

“Thanks for that,” Ron snapped.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “It makes sense for you to stay, Ron. You hit your head really hard
last night.”

Ron grumbled but didn't reply, sulking into his pillows.

Madam Pomfrey returned a quarter of an hour later with food in tow. “A friend will be up soon to
bring you books,” she said shortly, handing a plate of chicken and mashed potatoes to Hermione.

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione said. She didn't realize how hungry she was until the
aroma of the food hit her and dug in. Ron tore into his food almost violently as Madam Pomfrey
began to tidy up.

“What are you doing?” Ron asked, somehow managing to get the words out through a mouthful of
chicken. Hermione glanced up to see the medic pull a curtain around Harry's bed.

“Mister Potter is in no shape to be seen by other students,” she replied. “Not until those marks
go away.”

Hermione and Ron paled and glanced at each other, their appetites gone.

Almost an hour later, Madam Pomfrey reappeared with Fay beside her, clutching three books to her
chest. “You have ten minutes,” Madam Pomfrey told her before walking back into her office.

“Hermione!” Fay exclaimed, bolting to the space between Hermione and Ron's beds. “Ron! Are
you okay?”

“We're alright Fay,” Hermione reassured. “Madam Pomfrey's making us stay for the night
to watch over us.”

“Good.” Fay said. She dropped all but one book onto Hermione's bed and began smacking
Hermione *hard* with the tomb.

“Fay!” Hermione cried, trying to grab the book from the brunette.

“You - promised -” Fay grunted, accentuating each word with a hard smack to Hermione, “- that -
you - wouldn't - do - anything - *stupid!*”

“I'm sorry!” Hermione exclaimed. She finally got a grip on the book and yanked it out of
Fay's hands. “I'm *sorry* - I wanted to tell you! But we couldn't because it was
too dangerous!”

“Obviously,” Fay spat out, sitting down on Hermione's bed. She shot both Hermione and Ron a
glare. “You two owe me an explanation of what happened. And where's Harry?”

“We, uh, can't really say,” Ron said slowly, scratching his nose.

“*What?*” Fay exclaimed, her eyes narrowing into tiny slits, “Why not? Do you have
*any* idea how worried you three made all of us when we found out you were in the Hospital
Wing this morning? And *where's Harry?*”

“We can't say because Professor Dumbledore told us not to,” Hermione said softly. “Maybe
when Harry wakes up we can, but right now…”

“When Harry wakes up?” Fay echoed. “Merlin, Hermione what happened? There are all sorts of
rumours about how you three went off into the night to fight off a dragon. And now Professor
Quirrell is missing too.”

“We can't tell you,” Ron reiterated. “If it was McGonagall or someone who told us that, you
know we'd tell you -” Hermione let out a sound of protest and was waved off, “-but Professor
Dumbledore told Hermione directly.”

“Was it really that bad?” Fay whispered, her eyes wide with horror.

“Probably worse than what you're thinking,” Hermione muttered, glancing down and picking at
the lint on her blanket.

Fay exhaled loudly and looked around the room, her eyes settling on the curtains around
Harry's bed, “Is he in there?”

Hermione and Ron nodded. “Madam Pomfrey said he isn't in any shape to be seen by students,”
Ron said softly.

“Even we don't know what happened to Harry,” Hermione sighed, guilt tearing away at her
again. “We were split up and… well**…** we just don't know what happened afterwards.”

Fay remained silent and looked down at her hands. Hermione saw Fay's eyes water slightly and
winced. “How… how is Neville?” she asked. Ron's eyes widened, he clearly forgot what happened
last night with Neville.

“He's fine,” Fay sniffed, rubbing her eyes. “Shae and I were the ones to find him. After I
unpetrified him he told us what happened. You could tell you really hurt his feelings, but when we
went to go tell Professor McGonagall what happened and she told us you were in the Hospital Wing he
was really worried.”

“I feel horrible,” Hermione moaned. “I didn't want to, but he wasn't listening.”

“Just apologize to him and everything will be fine,” Fay reassured. She glanced at her watch and
sighed. “It's been nearly ten minutes, I should go. Everyone is anxious to see you three,
we've been trying all day but Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let any of us in.”

“Thanks for the books, Fay,” Hermione said, grabbing them and putting them onto the bedside
table.

“You're welcome,” she smiled, standing up. “I'll see you two tomorrow?”

“Absolutely,” Ron nodded.

Fay smiled again and began walking out of the Hospital Wing, faltering as she passed the
curtains hiding Harry. Hermione heard her sigh before continuing out of the room.

**<><><><><>**

Hermione and Ron were released from the Hospital Wing around lunch time the next day.
Unfortunately there was still no change in Harry's condition, which made leaving the Hospital
Wing very hard for the two Gryffindors.

“I'll send someone to notify you when Mister Potter wakes up,” Madam Pomfrey snapped,
annoyed that they hadn't left when she told them to. “You two were so eager to leave the
Hospital Wing yesterday, should I make you stay *another* day?”

Hermione and Ron quickly declined and scurried off towards the Gryffindor common room. The halls
were unusually empty as they made their way up to the tower; the only students they came across
were a couple of second year Hufflepuff boys.

“Where is everyone?” Hermione asked, glaring at the two boys when they pointed and whispered as
she and Ron passed by.

Ron stopped dead and let out a painful moan. “What is it?” Hermione asked quickly, worried his
head was bothering him.

“The Quidditch match!” Ron moaned. “It's today!”

“Gryffindor can still win without Harry,” Hermione offered, feeling relieved and frustrated at
Ron's over exaggeration. Ron just mumbled under his breath and continued up to the seventh
floor.

“Ron!” Hermione called after him, jogging to keep up. “Ron, shouldn't we go down to the
pitch?”

“The match will be over soon,” Ron shrugged. “There's no point. We'll find out who won
when everyone comes up.”

“What's gotten into you?” Hermione snapped, not liking Ron's tone. Ron didn't
respond and continued to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

Hermione huffed and followed him. They were alone in the common room for not even ten minutes
when the portrait swung open and the students of Gryffindor piled in, looking extremely
disappointed.

Shae was in front of the group, a scowl on her face until she looked up at the sofa Hermione and
Ron were sitting on. Her eyes widened and she made a squeaking noise, her hands flapping excitedly
in front of her.

“Hermione!” she shrieked. “Ron! You're back! You're back!” Shae rushed over to the two
of them, grabbing Hermione's arm and pulling her up. Hermione winced, preparing herself for
another assault and was surprised when the tiny redhead brought Hermione into a tight hug.

Everyone else crowded around Hermione and Ron, talking at once. “What happened?”

“Is it true you battled against a *dragon?*”

“Where's Harry?”

“Is Harry alright?”

“Why isn't Harry with you?” Shae asked, pulling back. Everyone hushed and stared at them,
waiting for an answer.

“Harry's still in the Hospital Wing,” Ron said. “He, uh… hasn't woke up yet.”

The crowd began firing off questions again, all centered on Harry's well-being. Ron looked a
smidge proud as he answered the questions as best he could, mentioning Professor Dumbledore told
them not to say what had happened a few times more than was necessary.

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned back to Shae, letting Ron have his moment. “Neville?” she
asked.

Shae looked over her shoulder to where Neville standing off to the side. Hermione made her way
through the growing crowd to the boy.

“Neville,” Hermione began, “I am *so* sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was petrify you…
but you have to understand we needed to leave right away.”

“I understand… I think,” Neville said, frowning. “You're alright?”

Hermione nodded. “I really am sorry,” she apologized again. “If there's anything you need
help with - *anything* at all - let me know, okay?”

“It's fine, Hermione,” Neville said, smiling. “I'm just glad you three are alright.”

“So what really happened?” Shae jumped in, latching onto Hermione's arm, “Ron's just
telling everyone you can't tell us what happened, right?”

“They really can't tell anyone,” Fay said, grabbing Shae and pulling her off of Hermione. “I
asked yesterday.”

Shae pouted but didn't say anything. Hermione took that time to ask about the Quidditch
match. All three Gryffindors groaned as soon as she asked. Hermione sat down on a chair as Fay went
into an extremely detailed account of how Gryffindor lost to Ravenclaw. Harry was more of a crutch
to the team than Hermione realized, and their reserve Seeker stood no chance whatsoever in catching
the Snitch.

After a while, the spectacle of Hermione and Ron's return from the Hospital Wing died down
and they were left alone. The rest of the first years stayed around, telling them all the rumours
that went around the castle when they were in the Hospital Wing.

As the day wore on, Hermione began to grow restless. She felt guilty for being so hysterical and
accusing Professor Snape, no matter how much she disliked the professor. It got to be too much for
her and she sighed, standing up and drawing the attention of everyone else.

“Where are you going?” Fay asked.

“I need to go do something,” Hermione mumbled. “I'll be right back.”

Hermione hurried out of the common room and down the many staircases. Once she hit the ground
floor she walked briskly to staff room and stopped in front of it. Taking a deep breath, she raised
her hand and rapped on the door.

Hermione heard shuffling and the door opened a moment later. Hermione's stomach dropped as
Professor Snape looked down at her coolly.

“Yes?” he drawled.

“I, uh…” Hermione swallowed thickly. She licked her lips, “May I speak with you, Professor
Snape?”

Professor Snape said nothing but raised an eyebrow. Hermione exhaled, realizing this was as
close to talking to him as she would get.

“I want to apologize for the other night,” Hermione said softly. It took everything in her power
not to look away from Professor Snape - his glare was making her uncomfortable. “The way I acted
and how I accused you of being the one to go after the Stone… it was very rude. I'm sorry.”

Hermione finished her apology and stared at him, waiting for a response. Professor Snape was
glaring at her, looking like he was struggling with something.

“Apologize accepted,” he finally said, looking like he just swallowed something foul. “Is there
anything else you need, Granger?”

“No, that's all, sir,” Hermione stuttered.

“Good day, then.” Professor Snape snapped the door shut, just narrowly missing her. She stared
at the closed door in shock, unsure if she felt better or worse after apologizing.

**<><><><><>**

“Granger, Weasley, come with me please.”

Hermione looked up to see Professor McGonagall approaching the Gryffindor table. She put down
her goblet of pumpkin juice and slowly got up, sharing a look with Ron. Ron shoved a last spoonful
of his breakfast into his mouth and got up as well. A hush went down the rest of the table,
everyone stopping to watch as Professor McGonagall led them out of the Great Hall.

“Mister Potter has woken up,” she said simply.

Hermione's eyes widened and she glanced at Ron, who had a huge grin on his face. They both
sprinted up the stairs, missing the soft smile on Professor McGonagall's face as they did
so.

Madam Pomfrey seemed to know that Hermione and Ron were on their way and was waiting for them as
they got to the Hospital Wing. “You have five minutes,” she told them sternly, pushing the door
open.

Hermione and Ron pushed passed her and immediately went to Harry's bed. Hermione's heart
swelled when she saw Harry propped up on his pillows, all marks on his neck gone. It took all
Hermione had not to throw herself at him again.

“About time you woke up,” Ron grinned, sitting on the edge of Harry's bed. Hermione sat down
on the other side. Sweets and cards covered both tables on either side of Harry's bed.

“How are you feeling?” Hermione asked.

“Little sore, but fine,” Harry replied. “You two weren't hurt, were you?”

“Like a little bump on the head could take me out,” Ron scoffed. He glanced around to make sure
Madam Pomfrey's office door was closed shut. “What happened down there? The whole school's
been talking about it and all we know is that it was Professor Quirrell.”

Harry shifted so he could lean towards them, “It *was* Quirrell. We've had it all
wrong. All those times we thought Snape was trying to kill me was him trying to *save* me from
Quirrell.”

“But Snape hates you,” Ron pointed out.

“I know but Dumbledore told me Snape owed my dad and that's why he's been looking out
for me,” he explained.

“But why would Quirrell want to kill you?” Hermione asked. “It doesn't make sense.”

“It does, actually,” Harry glanced around and leaned in closer. “His turban was hiding
Voldemort.”

“What?” Hermione shrieked.

“Don't say his name!” Ron hissed angrily.

Harry glared at Ron but kept on talking. “*Voldemort's* been living off of Quirrell
this entire school year. He's too weak to have a body of his own so he latched onto
Quirrell's. He was the one we saw drinking the unicorn blood, he was the one who gave Hagrid
the dragon egg - it was so Voldemort could get the Stone.”

“The Elixir of Life,” Hermione breathed. “Of course, if You-Know-Who got it he'd be
immortal. He's already barely living because of you, Harry.”

“The Stone's been destroyed so we don't have to worry about that anymore,” Harry said,
leaning back into his pillows. “So what happened to you two?”

Hermione and Ron quickly explained what happened after they left Harry, Hermione filling in most
of it because it was all so blurry for Ron.

“Do you think he meant you to do it?” Ron asked after Hermione finished, “Dumbledore sending you
your father's cloak.”

“That's a terrible thing to do!” Hermione exploded, earning looks from Harry and Ron. “It
was dangerous and stupid - you could've been killed!”

“I think Dumbledore wanted to give me a chance,” Harry replied, shaking his head. “I reckon he
knows a lot more of what's going on in this school than he lets on. I bet he knew what we were
going to do, and instead of stopping us, taught us what we needed to know.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. She had gotten the same feeling from Professor Dumbledore when he had
spoken with her a couple days ago and didn't agree with his methods *at all*. She could
tell Harry and Ron adored the Headmaster though, so decided to keep her mouth shut for now.

“Hey, Harry…” Hermione began softly, interrupting him and Ron as they started talking about the
Quidditch match. Ron looked annoyed as they glanced at her but Harry gave her his full attention.
“Did, uh, did Quirrell try to choke you?”

Ron's eyes bulged and he turned to stare at Harry.

Harry looked surprise and slowly brought a hand up to his neck, “How did you -?”

“I saw the burn marks when I woke up,” she said, feeling embarrassed as tears began to fill her
eyes. “What happened?”

“Awe, Hermione, don't cry,” Harry said quickly, sitting up. “I'm fine now! He did try
but he couldn't touch me. When he did, I would burn him.”

“How you manage that?” Ron asked, glancing at Hermione warily as she sniffled.

“Dumbledore reckons because my mother died saving me, Voldemort couldn't touch me,” Harry
explained softly, glancing down. “It was my mother's love that saved me.”

Hermione couldn't stop herself as a sob escaped. She covered her mouth and quickly wiped her
cheeks. Both Harry and Ron looked terrified that she was crying, Ron shoving a box of tissues into
her chest.

“I'm sorry,” Hermione sniffed, grabbing a tissue and wiping her nose. “I'm so happy
you're okay, Harry.”

“I couldn't have done it without you two,” Harry said, grinning at them.

“What happened to Quirrell?” Ron asked.

“He's dead,” Harry replied quietly. “Voldemort left him to die after the plan to get the
Stone failed.” An awkward silence followed. Hermione worked on composing herself, trying hard not
to think about Professor Quirrell dying. She briefly wondered where Voldemort went before quickly
stamping that thought out.

The conversation turned back to Quidditch and Ron quickly gave Harry the rundown of what
happened at the Quidditch match the other day. “Slytherin won the House Cup, too,” he grumbled.
“But the end of year feast should be good. You'll be there, right?”

“Oh, Harry!” Hermione gasped, suddenly remembering. They glanced apprehensively at her, both
afraid she'd start crying again. “Our exam results came out this morning.”

“Hermione is that really more important than the feast?” Ron asked, rolling his eyes.

“Of course it is!” Hermione gasped. “Ron if we don't pass the exams, we don't get into
second year.”

“We passed,” Ron informed Harry with another roll of his eyes. “McGonagall will be giving you
your sheet as soon as you're out of the Hospital Wing. And of course Hermione got top
marks.”

“What's with the tone, Ronald?” Hermione asked, her eyes narrowing.

Madam Pomfrey came bursting out from her office at that moment, glaring at Hermione and Ron. “I
gave you fifteen minutes, now out! You'll see Mister Potter at the feast tomorrow.” Madam
Pomfrey wouldn't let Hermione or Ron see Harry at all the next day, no matter how many times
they tried. Every time she told them he would be at the feast and they would have to wait until
then.

All the first years were informed that Harry would be at the feast so when it came time for the
students to start heading into the Great Hall, they were already sitting at the table. A spot was
cleared in between Hermione and Ron for when Harry arrived.

The feast was just about to start when a hush fell over the Great Hall. Hermione looked over to
the doors, a grin spreading on her face as she saw Harry step into the room. He turned bright red
when people started pointing at him and hurried over to where they were sitting, keeping his head
down.

“Welcome back, Harry!” Shae cheered.

Professor Dumbledore stood up and called attention to the hall, effectively cutting off the
whispers about Harry.

“Another year gone!” he called, clapping. “And before we tuck in to this fabulous feast, please
pardon an old man's rambling…”

Hermione groaned as Professor Dumbledore went into the final count of the House Cup. As he
called out Gryffindor's final score, Hermione and Harry shared a look. Gryffindor was behind
the rest of the houses because of their stupidity.

The Slytherin table cheered loudly when Professor Dumbledore announced they were in the lead.
Ron slouched down and glared murderously over to where Malfoy was banging his goblet loudly on the
table.

Professor Dumbledore held up his hand and the applause died down. “However,” he began, “recent
events must be taken into consideration.”

The hall went silent and the Gryffindors perked up. Hermione stared at Professor Dumbledore.
`*There's no way…*' she thought.

“I have a few last minute points to give out. First - to Mister Ronald Weasley for the
best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many generations. I award Gryffindor… fifty
points.”

Ron went so red his face turned purple as Gryffindor cheered loudly. Hermione could see the
twins jumping up and down and Percy was shouting `that's my brother!' from near the Head
Table.

“Second,” Professor Dumbledore called over the noise. The hall went silent yet again, “to Miss
Hermione Granger. For the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor fifty
points.”

Hermione stared at Professor Dumbledore in shock as the Gryffindor table broke out into loud
cheers again. Harry and Ron patted Hermione on the back and Fay and Shae reached across the table
to grasp her hands.

“Third - to Mister Harry Potter,” Professor Dumbledore began again. The room went deadly quiet.
Hermione glanced over to the Slytherin table and was thrilled to see the smug grin melting from
Malfoy's face. “For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor…sixty points.”

The uproar was deafening. The people who figured it out were screaming Gryffindor was tied with
Slytherin. Even Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were getting in on the noise. Professor Dumbledore held up
his hand and the hall quietened instantly.

“There are all kinds of courage. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies,
but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mister Neville
Longbottom. And if my calculations are correct, then Gryffindor wins the House Cup.”

The Great Hall exploded with cheers as Professor Dumbledore clapped his hands. The green and
silver tapestries that decorated the hall changed into scarlet and gold. A large banner of a lion
fell down behind the Head Table in place of the serpent.

People jumped up and crowded around Neville, who was sitting in shock with his mouth open,
hugging him. Hermione jumped up with everyone else, screaming and cheering. The twins started
chanting `Longbottom got `em!' which quickly caught on with the other houses.

The rest of the night was a blur, Hermione having the time of her life as she and her friends
celebrated into the night. It was hours until Professor Dumbledore finally told everyone to go to
bed. The train would be leaving at eleven the next morning and everyone needed their rest.

“This is the best way to end the year!” Dean crowed, laughing as the Gryffindor first years made
their way up to Gryffindor tower.

“Can you believe we only have seven years at Hogwarts?” Lavender asked, skipping up next to
Hermione. “This year's gone by *so* fast.”

“That's just more of a reason why we have to make the next six years *really* count,”
Seamus said, grinning.

Hermione heard Shae sniffle and quickly wipe her face, keeping her head down. “What's the
matter, Shae?” she asked, going up to her.

“Nothing,” she replied in a small voice.

“It doesn't look like nothing,” Fay said, appearing on Shae's other side. “Tell us
what's the matter, Shae.”

“I don't want to leave!” Shae burst out. Everyone stopped walking to look at her. “I know
it's only two months but I've made so many friends here and I don't want to go
back!”

Hermione stared at Shae in surprise, glancing nervously at Fay. “We'll write to you,” she
offered. Fay nodded in agreement. “And I can give you my phone number so we can talk.”

“Phone number?” Shae asked, scrunching up her nose.

“Right, the wizarding world doesn't have phones,” Hermione muttered, flushing slightly.
“We'll still write to each other at least once a week.”

“Don't focus on us having to leave,” Harry piped up, walking up to them. “Just think of how
the excitement you're going to feel when you're boarding the Hogwarts Express on September
first.”

“Exactly,” Fay nodded. “I think we need a break from Hogwarts. If we're here all year long,
it would lose its … magic.”

“I guess you're right,” Shae said, giving a watery smile.

“You know what this calls for, right?” Ron said as they continued the trek up to Gryffindor
tower. “We stay up late and have the best night ever so we'll have these great memories to go
home to.”

“I don't think so.”

Everyone jumped as Percy appeared behind them, glaring at Ron. “You will go right to bed so you
can be ready to board the train tomorrow morning. If I catch any of you in the common room,
I'll be sure to take points away as *soon* as we return in September.”

Ron turned red as Percy marched through the group and through the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“No offence, Ron,” Seamus stated, “but your brother's a prat.”

“At least you get the summer away from him,” Ron grumbled.

“That does makes me feel a lot better,” Shae joked. Hermione laughed and followed everyone as
they made their way into the common room and up to their dormitories.

Hermione quickly dressed into her pyjamas and went through her nightly routine. After she was
finished, she grabbed her toothbrush, toothpaste, and all other toiletries and put them in the
traveling bag her mother gave her. A wave of sadness washed through her as she took all of her
belongings that made the circular room her home for the past year and put them in her trunk. She
could understand how Shae was feeling.

The train ride back to King's Cross Station went by quickly. Hermione, Harry, and Ron spent
most of the ride talking and reminiscing about the past year. Occasionally people would drop into
their compartment for a while to socialize. Halfway through the ride, Hermione left to go find
Sally-Anne to spend some time with her. The raven-haired girl was slightly cold towards Hermione,
but warmed up as the conversation carried on.

Hermione returned just as it was time to change into normal clothes. She grabbed her clothes and
hurried to the same bathroom she had changed in back in September. After changing, she made her way
back into the compartment and stowed away her robes. Hermione couldn't believe how weird it was
to wear jeans after the entire school year of wearing a skirt. She grinned to herself, before
Hogwarts Hermione would fight to not have to wear a skirt or dress.

The train slowed to a halt and the corridor was filled with students piling off the train.
Hermione dragged her trunk off the train, thanking guard who got a trolley for her. Together with
Harry and Ron, they waited in the growing line to pass through Platform Nine and Three
Quarters.

She saw her parents and Viola as soon as she stepped onto the Muggle side. Viola started jumping
up and down as soon as she saw Hermione and she began to laugh. Hermione rolled her trolley over to
them and gave everyone a big hug.

“Oh, Hermione!” Mrs. Granger sobbed, clutching Hermione to her chest. “Welcome home!”

“Mum,” Hermione pulled out of the hug, blushing slightly.

“Go say goodbye to your friends, sweetie,” Mister Granger said, ruffling her hair. Viola
protested as Hermione left her trolley with her parents and went back to Harry and Ron.

“Ronald!”

A plump, fiery red haired woman came hurdling towards them, pulling Ron into a tight hug. Dean
and Seamus sniggered as they passed by. Ron's ears were bright red as he struggled to get out
of her grip.

Hermione knew right away that was Mrs. Weasley. A tiny little redheaded girl was jumping
excitedly beside Mrs. Weasley, openly pointing at Harry. “Look, mum! Look! It's Harry Potter!
It's *really* Harry Potter!”

Mrs. Weasley pulled back and glared at what Hermione assumed was her daughter. “Hush Ginny. And
it's rude to point.”

The young girl looked properly chastised and glanced down, peeking up shyly at Harry through her
bangs. Hermione giggled and glanced at him, who went slightly red.

“How are you, dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked, pulling Harry into a hug. “Busy year?”

“It was,” Harry replied, looking shocked. “Thanks for the jumper, Mrs. Weasley.”

“You're welcome, dear,” she pulled back and turned to Hermione, also pulling her into a hug.
“Any friend of Ron's is welcome in our family.”

“Thank you,” Hermione replied, hugging her back. “And thanks for the Christmas present - you
didn't have to do that.”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Weasley scoffed. She pulled back and glanced up as Fred and George walked up.
“How many detentions did you two earn this year?”

Hermione and Harry laughed as Ron pushed them away from his family.

“Well, this is it,” Hermione sighed. “Where are your family, Harry?”

“Dunno,” Harry mumbled, looking around. “I wouldn't be surprised if they forgot to pick me
up.”

“Harry,” Hermione frowned.

“Ready, boy?”

The three turned to find a huge, beefy looking man with a purple face glaring at Harry. Hermione
stiffened, recognizing him instantly from the summer before. She glanced behind him and saw the
same boney woman and `Dudders' huddled nervously behind the big man.

With wide eyes, she turned to look at Harry. She couldn't believe she hadn't recognized
him from the reptile house at Claire's birthday party. He had been talking to that boa
constrictor after the glass containing the snake vanished. A chill went down Hermione's spine
as she remembered how Harry looked at the snake, acting like he could actually talk to it.

Harry sighed and pushed his trolley towards his uncle, waving goodbye to Hermione and Ron. Ron
bid farewell as well and went off to his family, leaving Hermione alone to stare after Harry's
retreating back.

**<><><><><>**

**7 August, 2016**

Karen snapped the journal shut with a snap, glancing at Lindsay with a grin, “We're finished
the first year!”

“Finally,” Lindsay grinned back. “This is taking a lot longer than I'd like it to.”

“Well we could always bring the next journal home,” Karen tempted, tossing the journal onto the
table.

“That's sounding better and better every time you say that,” her friend replied, standing up
and stretching. “But it's still a no - we can't afford to risk it.”

Karen rolled her eyes. “I'll win you over yet,” she said, checking her mobile.

“Yes, yes. Come on, let's go home. I have to open up tomorrow.”

The two girls grabbed their purses and went around Just Imagine, turning off all the lights and
double checking that things were ready for tomorrow. With a last glance around the shop, Lindsay
ushered Karen out onto the street and closed the door, locking it.

**{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}**

**End Note: And here it is - the end of the first year. I honestly can't believe I made it
this far. It's taken me a year for this to be a little idea in my head to actually flesh it
out… I may or may not be getting a little emotional.**

**So I want to say thank you to each and every one of you who reviewed, put Her Story on your
favorites or alert. Without all of you,** **Her Story** **would definitely not be where it is
today. Please continue on doing what you do best, and let's see this monster of a story go
right to the seventh year!!! Alright, now for the VERY IMPORTANT END NOTE!**

**VERY IMPORTANT END NOTE****: I have decided to make Her Story a series of seven stories,
exactly like the books were. So, in a sense, Her Story is** **now** **complete. Her Story:
Chamber of Secrets is currently in the works.** **I will also be trying to figure out a more
creative name for it, but it's not really working out. IF ANYONE HAS A SUGGESTION, PLEASE SAY
SO IN A REVIEW.** **=D**

**I will try to get the first chapter uploaded as soon as possible. I'm going to
shamelessly** **plug myself now too. Please add me to your favorite authors or put me on author
alerts. It'll be much easier to find when the next year begins because I will NOT be posting in
this story anymore. It is done, ready to hit the fanfic shelves, so to speak.**

**It WILL be out before Christmas, I guarantee you that. So, see you then! And thanks so
much.**

**Kelci**

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