The Spells of Snakes
AN: This is my first published piece of writing, sorry for any grammar errors you encounter.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and neither do you.
Chapter 1
"Harry, you're zoning out again."
"Sorry 'Mione, I'm just worried about the team. We haven't been able to practice in weeks. I wish one of these spells could influence the weather," I replied.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "I know you care about quidditch, but this is important Harry. These spells could really give you an edge in the tournament."
Hermione recently had had a stroke of brilliance, most spells are derived from latin so that witches and wizards all around the world could easily learn, speak and understand them. Hermione realized that some spells created in other languages might be the secret weapon I so desperately needed if I were to have a fighting chance in this tournament. Now, I spent all of my downtime in the restricted section of the library, a secluded cove impossible to enter for most students, but accessible with only a nod from Hermione. The librarians loved her like a child.
In front of me were manuscripts written in Greek, Hieroglyphics, Sanscrit, and various other languages, some of which I'd never even heard of. Hermione was translating an inscription on a piece of old parchment from Hieroglyphic to Greek, Greek to Latin, Latin to Russian, and Russian to English. Though the spell could only be cast in Arabic, the details needed to be translated to be understood, and Hermione didn't believe that just casting blindly was the proper procedure to determine the use (So what if there was an easily managed incident involving a sickness curse).
"This spell is for encasing a body in burial cloths," said Hermione, her wrinkled nose indicating obvious disgust at yet another mummification spell. "I suppose it would at least surprise someone, I just wish that half these weren't all just the basics. Summoning, healing, fire, and attraction, none of which compare to their modern upgrades."
"Let's pick this up tomorrow," I suggested, "you're doing that thing you do before exams where you forget to do petty little things like, you know, eating and sleeping."
She brushed her hair out of her eyes and set down the scroll she was reading, "I suppose you're right Harry," with a flourish of her wand, she sent all of the materials flying back onto the shelves, according to the Dewey Decimal System of course, a spell only she would know.
It was then that something caught my eye, a slight movement at the edge of my vision. Failing to see it again, I dismissed as me being overtired and Hermione and I walked back to the common room to catch up on some rest.