AUTHOR'S NOTE: I do not own Harry Potter, that is all J.K. Rowling.
3. Protego
After rehashing the previous day for the tenth time in her mind, Hermione finally mustered up enough energy to get out of bed, trudging to her bathroom where she desperately hoped her morning ablutions would help to make her feel more human.
When she was clean, dry, and dressed in her standard issue Hogwarts uniform- knee-length grey skirt, white oxford button up, soft grey sweater-vest, green and silver tie- Hermione grabbed her bag and Slytherin adorned robes from the squashy black armchair across from her bed. It did not escape her notice, as she made her way down to the front room in the silent house, that Tom had still seemingly not come home. His erratic schedule was already making the prospect of living with him more much more bearable.
The clock above the mantle chimed eight times, signifying that she was already running late for breakfast in the Great Hall. She snatched a handful of Floo powder and stepped into the fireplace as she called out, "Severus' office."
From a whirl of green flames, Hermione stumbled rather unceremoniously out of the fireplace and onto the thin carpet in front of it. Unable to cease her momentum, she smacked her face directly into the high back of a black leather armchair that was sitting only a few feet from the grate.
"Owww," she moaned, rubbing her sore nose. "Who puts their desk right in front of the Floo? Bloody masochist."
When Hermione managed to finally right herself and spell the soot from her clothes and skin, she couldn't help but take a few moments to look around. The large window to the left of his desk did not look outside, but rather into what seemed like a large body of water. In the daylight, the murky waters bathed the office in a soft olive glow, illuminating the hundreds of specimen-filled luminescent jars that lined the shelves on the walls. She ran the pads of her fingers over a few of them, squinting to try and decipher what could possibly be inside. It wasn't until she felt the distinct magical tingle of wards surrounding some of the jars behind his desk that Hermione remembered where she was supposed to be going. She picked her bag up from the floor in front of the fireplace and went out the only door in the room but was surprised when she didn't encounter a hallway, but rather a spotless Potions classroom.
Luckily there were only two other doors in the classroom, a small closed one to the far left which was most likely to storage cupboard and a large rounded open one at the front, where she could see wrought iron sconces casting warm glows over the castle's stone walls. Once in the hallway, Hermione dug in her bag for the enchanted map of Hogwarts that had been left for her among her school things.
"Where in the…" It took her a moment before she remembered. The map was sitting on the desk in her room and she had forgotten to grab it. "Oh, that is just wonderful." How was she supposed to get around now?
"Potions at 8 in the morning? You must be lost."
Hermione turned to see a girl about her height with a short, inky black bob and light green eyes assessing her thoughtfully. Her face was slightly squished, like that of a pug, but when she noticed the Slytherin sigil on Hermione's robes, she smiled and her face became quite pretty.
"I am," Hermione admitted. "And it seems I've forgotten my map."
"Ah, so that would make you Hermione Granger, right?"
She gave a small nod.
"I'm Pansy Parkinson. Slytherin, obviously. I'm on my way to breakfast if you want to join me?"
"That would be great, thank you."
If Hermione had been nervous regarding her somewhat lacking social graces, Pansy quickly dispelled her fears by taking the lead. "When Professor Snape told us you were going to be coming here and that you were Sorted into Slytherin, we almost couldn't believe it. Everyone had heard of you of course, but no one had ever seen you before. I think some of us were starting to doubt you actually existed."
Her brow furrowed, "Even before I was set to come here, you all knew about me?"
Pansy seemed confused by the question, "Of course we did. There have rumors going around about you for as long as I can remember."
"That seems so odd."
"Does it?"
"Most definitely."
"Mmmm," said Pansy noncommittally. "Maybe it just seems strange to you because he's your father."
"What do you mean?"
The other girl seemed thoughtful for a moment, "Your father is very powerful these days. Maybe he wasn't always like that, but it's hard to imagine him any other way now. I think most people just have a hard time imagining him as a normal man with a wife and a family. I think a lot people refused to believe it all. That's probably why so many didn't really think you were real. Salazar's ghost, your mother must have been quite a formidable witch to end up with him, even if he wasn't as powerful back then. I…" Pansy cleared her throat. "I'm sorry for your loss, by the way."
I expect you to keep you and your father's blood status to yourself. "Thank you," Hermione managed in a soft voice. "She was quite extraordinary."
"Do the Aurors know what happened?"
She shook her head, not wanting to discuss her mother any further. Pansy seemed to take the hint and refrained from speaking of it again.
Sooner than Hermione expected, they arrived in the main foyer outside of the monstrous wood and iron-wrought double doors of the Great Hall.
"Here we are," Pansy said. "It's pretty much a straight shot from the Potions classroom so you should be able to find it easy enough from now on, assuming that's where you'll be coming from every day."
"Thank y—"
The other girl simply shook her head, "Don't worry about it. Now I don't know about you, but I'm starving."
Hermione followed Pansy into the Great Hall, which was already packed to the brim with students at their respective house tables and the staff at the head table adorning the dais at the front of the cavernous room. Scanning the staff table quickly, Hermione caught sight of Severus, who gave her an almost imperceptible nod before returning to his conversation with a wrinkled older woman in a large witch's hat. At his acknowledgment, she felt a small measure of peace settle over her, but that only lasted until she and Pansy crossed the threshold together; suddenly, it was as though a silencing charm had been cast over the entire student body. Everyone, save the Slytherins who immediately stood, froze in their seats and turned their eyes to her. It wasn't difficult to discern how they felt about her presence from the identical looks in all of their eyes. Hermione blushed furiously and ducked her head a little. She didn't consider herself a coward by any means, but there was something rather daunting about being in room full of people that decided to hate you before they had ever laid eyes on you.
"Perhaps I should…"
Before she could take even a single step back, Pansy grabbed her sleeve and dragged her to the Slytherin table where all of her housemates waited respectfully. When they reached a clear stretch of bench, Pansy took a seat and pulled Hermione down next to her. Once she was seated, everyone in Slytherin house sat back down and the rest of the student body seemed to come back to life as the dull roar of conversations continued.
"Now what do we have here?" A tall, dark-skinned boy across from her smiled, flashing a set of dazzling, white teeth. "You must be the elusive Hermione Granger we've all heard so much about. So lovely to finally meet you."
A pale boy with regally styled white-blond hair elbowed him directly in the ribs, eliciting a pained hiss from the darker boy, "Salazar's bollocks, Blaise, she hasn't even been here five minutes and you're already preparing to proposition her. Have you no shame?"
The darker-skinned one, Blaise, grinned wolfishly in her direction, "Not when it comes to beautiful witches, I don't."
"Give it a rest, Blaise," Pansy grunted, spooning scrambled eggs onto her plate. "Her father would make mince pie out of you if you ever touched her." She inclined her head toward Hermione. "Just ignore him, we all do."
"I will have you know that I have personally bedded over half of the available, of-age witches in this school. And correct me if I'm wrong but… you were one of those witches, weren't you Pansy?"
She waved her elegantly manicured hand dismissively in the air as she simply said, "Firewhisky lowers even the best of us."
Hermione had to stifle a small laugh at the group's antics.
The blond boy rolled his eyes, "I apologize for the uncouth behavior of these two, Hermione. I assure you, most Slytherins are much more respectable."
Blaise laughed heartily, "Draco Malfoy calling someone uncouth? Now that's hilarious."
Suddenly, Blaise's face began sprouting large pustules as Draco twirled his wand in his hand, "Keep it up, Zabini. I would be more than happy to practice my non-verbal spells on you all day."
He looked horrified, "Alright, alright I'm sorry! Cancel it!"
"Sometimes it feels like I'm the only mature one in this little trio," Pansy sighed dramatically. Once the two boys across from them were sufficiently engrossed in their breakfast, Pansy lowered her voice to Hermione, tilting her head towards the red and gold adorned table at the opposite end of the room, "Speaking of which, do you see those three boys over there?"
Attempting to be subtle, Hermione looked up towards the Gryffindor table where three boys were sitting together, somewhat isolated from the rest of their peers. The first boy was obviously built for Quidditch, with broad shoulders and thick bands of arm muscles. His skin was milky under a shock of bright orange hair and he shoveled mounds of food into his mouth like there was a nationwide egg and bacon shortage. The second one was taller, leaner, with smooth chocolate brown hair and an easy crooked smile. After laughing at something the redhead said, he pulled out a book- Advanced Herbology? She couldn't be certain from such a distance. Unlike his two friends however, the third boy simply sat with his chin in his hand staring off into space. He had a thick mop of unruly black hair sticking up in every direction and his eyes were framed by a pair of thick-rimmed, round glasses. As if sensing her gaze, he turned to look directly at her.
She was immediately taken aback by the level of loathing in his face.
Hermione could feel her body's fight-or-flight response kicking in, "Who are they?"
Choosing to resurface from his plate, Blaise turned his head around to see who they were speaking of. When he turned back to the girls, he simply grunted into the pumpkin juice now at his lips, "Here we go."
"Really, Pansy? The Golden Trio already?" Draco asked contemptuously. "She hasn't even eaten her breakfast yet."
"She needs to know!" Pansy hissed. "You know what Professor Snape told us: it's our job to look out for her. And if anyone's going to be trouble, it's those three."
He seemed to agree, "Well, go on then."
"You have to be careful around those three," Pansy told her, frowning. "The redhead, that's Ron Weasley. Not terribly smart but he's filled out over the past few years thanks to Quidditch and now he's even stronger than he looks. The one with the book is Neville Longbottom. He may look like he could charm the knickers off a nun but he has a wicked eye for Herbology and has been known to grow illegal, dangerous plants. And that's Harry Potter, with the glasses. Average intelligence and skill but reckless with a violent temper."
"Those names…" Hermione said. "They sound so familiar."
Blaise nodded absently, "They've been all over the papers the past few years. Even living in France, I'd be surprised if you'd never heard of them."
Pansy tsked her tongue at him before returning her attention to Hermione, "Those three have been the most… affected by your father. Professor Snape told us that you don't really know him that well or and aren't involved in the things he's doing but…"
"But that won't matter to them," Draco interceded. "You are related to the Dark Lord. That's all they need to know."
"Are you saying that those boys might try to… hurt me?"
Each of them nodded.
"What did my father do to them?"
They all shifted uncomfortably before Pansy spoke up, "One of Weasley's older brothers was killed a few years ago in a fight with some Death Eaters at the Department of Mysteries. The brother that was killed was a twin and rumor has it the other one went a little barmy afterwards. Longbottom's parents were… actively outspoken against the Dark Lord and one of his most, er, loyal followers Crucioed his parents right into insanity. They've been in St. Mungo's for something like 16 years now. And Potter's father was killed when he was a baby; he somehow managed to stave off the Dark Lord long enough for Potter's mother to escape with him to safety. And… well, Potter is the Chosen One." At the look of confusion on Hermione's face, she frowned. "You know, the Chosen One. The one they say is destined by prophecy to defeat the Dark Lord."
Destined to kill her father? Hermione had admittedly conflicted feelings about that. She was well aware that the crimes he and his followers committed all in the name of, what she considered to be a sham of a cause, to be utterly heinous and reprehensible… but he was still her father, wasn't he? "But I am not a part of any of that. None of those things have anything to do with me."
"Like Draco said, Hermione, it doesn't matter to them. You and your father share the same blood, so to them, hurting you is the same as hurting him."
"We've all seen how they operate," Blaise added. "None of them are confident enough to try anything on their own, so if they want to get to you they'll most likely do it in pairs."
She could feel her notorious temper simmering just below the surface, confirmed when her bushy curls began to frizz at the edges. How dare these people condemn her for the sins of her father? They didn't know her. They didn't know that she had fought tooth-and-nail not to be sent to him. They didn't know how horrified she was at the thought of being anything like Tom. They didn't know that, while she did feel some semblance of love for the man, she never wanted to follow in his footsteps. They didn't know that she didn't give a shite about purebloods or half-bloods or muggleborns, that she believed everyone with magic was equal. How dare they plan to harm her when they didn't even know her? When she spoke, her voice was sharp as glass, "Let them try."
Both boys burst into surprised laughter and Pansy gave a wry smile, "I'm not so sure you need us to watch out for you after all."
x-x-x
After breakfast concluded, all the students began making their way from the Great Hall to their respective classes. As they were following everyone else out, Blaise let out a long, dramatic groan.
"Divination at nine in the morning! Merlin's left testicle, they should torture prisoners with that in Azkaban."
Draco snickered, "I tried to tell you."
"Hermione, what do you have first today?" Pansy asked.
She rummaged through her bag for a moment before she found her slightly crinkled timetable, "Mmm… looks like Arithmancy is first for me."
Blaise made a gagging noise, "I take it back. That is the worst form of torture imaginable."
"Here, let me see," the other girl nabbed the schedule from Hermione's hand and scanned it quickly. "Hmm… Arithmancy with Ravenclaw, Muggle Studies with Gryffindor, Ancient Runes with Hufflepuff, then Potions with Gryffindor. And after Potions you have free period to work on your N.E.W.T. project. That isn't too terrible, I guess. We have all of our classes together anyway."
The girls began to make their way up the large central staircase when Hermione tripped over something and stumbled against the banister. When she looked down, she found the source: a single, purple trainer with bright orange shoelaces.
"Sorry about that," came a dreamy voice. "It seems that someone has misplaced my favorite shoe again." A pale, slender girl with silver-blond hair bent down to grab her trainer but paused when she noticed Hermione. "Oh, hello Hermione Granger." The girl seemed contemplative, "You know, you are much less frightening than everyone thought you would be. In fact, you seem exceptionally ordinary to me."
"Thank you… I think."
After slipping her foot back into her shoe, the girl grabbed her small bag from the stair and placed a pair of large, odd-shaped glasses on her face, "Be careful on the third floor, Hermione Granger. Nargles like to hide behind the portraits up there."
And with that, the girl disappeared into the crowd.
Nargles? How odd.
As Hermione turned back towards the top of the stairs, she realized that Pansy, Draco, and Blaise were gone and she was completely lost in a crowd of unfamiliar people.
Unfamiliar people who kept staring and whispering behind their hands.
Her palms began to sweat. The enchanted map was still lying on her desk at home and now she had no idea where to go. She didn't dare ask anyone for directions. Hermione tried to find the familiar curtain of silky black hair over the crowd ambushing the staircase, but to her dismay, Severus was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she could make her way back to the Potions classroom and slip into his office long enough to dash through the Floo and grab her map. Perhaps if she hurried…
"You'll never make it to class with all those wrackspurts milling about in your head," the dreamy voice came from behind her again. It was the same girl whose shoe Hermione had tripped over. "If you're on your way to Arithmancy, which I suspect you are, I would be more than happy to walk with you."
Hermione gave the girl a hesitant smile, trying not to be cowed by the frightening amount of blue, rather than green, adorning her robes, "I would greatly appreciate that."
They walked in silence for a while, with Hermione desperately trying to ignore the tension she could feel rolling off of everyone she passed in great waves. It wasn't until they cleared the moving staircase to the fifth floor that the girl spoke, "Try not to let their hostility frighten you, Hermione Granger. Most people fear things they don't understand, that's all. I suspect they are concerned because you do not look like an evil person and that disconcerts them."
"I think they are less concerned about what I am actually like and more apt to comparing me to my father," she said quietly, gripping the strap of her bag a little tighter as some large boys shoved roughly past her.
"Yes, you are probably right."
Once they were more alone in the hallway, Hermione cleared her throat in embarrassment, "How rude of me, I forgot to ask your name."
"It's perfectly understandable Hermione Granger, I imagine you were quite distraught after all. My name is Luna Lovegood, although some people tend to call me 'Looney' and I don't care for that at all."
"Not to pry, but do… do people misplace your things often, Luna?" Hermione asked, though she suspected the answer.
She shrugged, seemingly unbothered, "Like I said, they fear anything they don't understand. If absconding with my things from time to time makes them feel more at ease, then that's fine with me."
"You are quite a unique person, you know."
Luna stopped in front a classroom that was already half-full and gave a wistful smile, "Thank you for the compliment, Hermione Granger. You are most unique yourself and already the wrackspurts are beginning to disburse, which is just as well considering we have Arithmancy so early in the morning."
She chose not to ask what on earth wrackspurts were.
As they entered the intimate classroom, Pansy came darting over to them, "Hermione, I am so sorry I lost you. Once second you were right behind me and the next thing I knew, you were gone! You didn't run into any trouble did you?"
Hermione shook her head, "No, Luna was kind enough to walk with me to class."
"Lovegood?" Pansy glanced hesitantly at the ethereal girl she just now seemed to notice was standing beside Hermione. "That was… nice. Thanks, Luna."
"Oh it was no problem at all. Hermione Granger is quite lovely and not at all the terrifying Death Eater everyone assumed she would be."
Pansy stiffened a little and lightly fingered the sleeve of her left arm.
"Well have a pleasant day, you two. Oh, and there is a Blibbering Humdinger milling about in the bathroom on this floor so I would avoid it if at all possible," and then Luna drifted away towards a desk on the other side of the room.
Hermione didn't even have a chance to ask Pansy what a Blibbering Humdinger was before their exotic-looking Arithmancy professor, Professor Vector, appeared at the front of the room and started mapping out equations with her multicolored chalk. Throughout the class, Hermione raised her hand when appropriate and answered several questions that no one else had been able to. This had earned Slytherin some admittedly reticent House points, but more importantly, by the end of the lesson Professor Vector seemed almost comfortable interacting with Hermione. It was a small step, but a step in the right direction nonetheless.
Muggle Studies with Gryffindor, however, was a decidedly less pleasant animal altogether. First and foremost, their instructor, Professor Binns, was dead. More accurately, his portrait was teaching them and it did not seem terribly thrilled at the prospect.
"Good morning N.E.W.T. class," Professor Binns said in an utterly disinterested tone. "Before we begin, I'd like to see who knows their Muggle literature. Hmm... Mr. Weasley," the painted hand pointed to the burly redhead Hermione had seen in the Great Hall. "Can you tell me who wrote Hamlet?"
Ron Weasley scratched the back of his head, "Uh… Romeo or something, right?"
"Try again, Mr. Weasley."
"Er, he's got one name I think but…"
Hermione tried, she really did, but she couldn't help it. She stifled a small snort. This was a seventh year N.E.W.T. course. How did he not know who Shakespeare was? Beuxbatons covered a broad variety of his works when she was only a fifth year, after all.
Professor Binns turned and eyed her warily, "Miss Granger, I take it you know the correct answer?"
She nodded, flushing at having been caught, "Yes, sir. William Shakespeare wrote Hamlet. Romeo Montague was a character in Shakespeare's play Romeo and Juliet."
Weasley did not look happy.
"Very good, Miss Granger. Five points to Slytherin. Which brings me to our lesson: today we will be starting a new book," he gestured to the stack on his desk. "Hamlet by William Shakespeare. This is a literary classic and if not now, when?"
The class groaned in unison but Hermione was thrilled. She loved to read and Shakespeare, though not necessarily one of her Muggle favorites, certainly had a way with plots that she could appreciate.
"Mr. Thomas," Professor Binns gestured towards a dark-skinned boy sitting beside Weasley at the back of the class. "Please give everyone a copy of Hamlet and then we'll begin."
He quickly grabbed the small pile and began to pass them out, starting with the back of the classroom where the Gryffindors sat. She could see that the top of the pile held the newest copies while those on the bottom were much rattier. Hermione rolled her eyes at such childish antics; House rivalries were obviously strong here.
She came back to reality at a loud thud on her desk. The book was now laying open in front of her and one quote in particular stood out:
"Frailty, thy name is woman!"
So it was to be one of those.
At reading the single line, Hermione slammed the book shut. She hated the preconceived notions about woman from Shakespeare's time. Not all women had been flighty, helpless creatures. Queen Elizabeth I, who had been in power when Shakespeare was born, was proof of that fact.
"Is there a problem, Miss Granger?" Professor Binns asked, obviously noticing her sudden annoyance at the book.
She felt an immense number of eyes turn to her in unison, waiting. She was hesitant to answer, seeing as how everyone had already made such harsh judgements about her. Would he take House points due to her strong opinion? Hermione really didn't want to alienate her Housemates when Severus had made it clear that they were the only ones she would be able to count on for support.
"Well?" He persisted, raising a bushy white eyebrow.
Hermione took a deep breath, "I admire Shakespeare, sir, please don't get me wrong, but I am not exactly a fan of his notions regarding women."
"And what brings this up, Miss Granger?"
"When my book was dropped onto my desk, it opened to a page where the first quote I saw was 'Frailty, thy name is woman' and I suppose it bothered me."
"I see your point, but it raises the question: how do you know that Shakespeare himself had this somewhat common idea about the weakness and fickleness of women? How do you know that the people he surrounded himself with didn't urge him to put it in the play for the sole purpose that he would relate to his audience better? Also, how can you be sure that he didn't just put this in his play as a way of describing Hamlet's feelings towards women, his mother in particular, instead of his own?" His eyebrows raised and the room was silent.
Hermione frowned, "I suppose that is a possibility, sir. However, if that is indeed the case, then I would simply go from being angry with Shakespeare himself to angry at the character he wrote."
"That hardly seems rational."
"Anger rarely is, sir."
He gave a slight nod before addressing the entire class, "For those unfamiliar with Shakespeare, it is important to remember that he lived in and wrote about times when women were seen very differently than they are today. You will want to remember that as we read. And Miss Granger," the man in the portrait eyed her again, "Five more points to Slytherin."
Her face was impassive as she nodded, but inside she was beaming.
"For your first assignment, I would like you to pair with someone from the opposite House and turn to any random page in your book. It doesn't matter where. Then I would like you to discuss what you think is happening in the story at that moment. I am very curious to see how you all interpret this particular piece of Muggle literature."
As everyone began to somewhat reluctantly pair off, Hermione realized that not a single person she could partner with in the entire room would be comfortable with her presence. With each successful grouping of Slytherins and Gryffindors, the tension in the room racketed up another notch. By the time there were only two of them left, she was practically choking on it.
"Do I need to start taking House points for daydreaming, Miss Granger?" The professor's portrait asked.
"No, sir, but I think it would be best for me to—"
"Mr. Weasley, would you please bring your things to the front of the room so you and Miss Granger can begin? We don't have all day, after all."
Ron Weasley shoved his chair back roughly, snatching his things angrily from his desk and shoving them into his bag, "Sorry Professor, I'd rather take a zero for the day than work with Princess Death Eater."
Hermione ground her teeth as he stormed out of the room, employing every trick she had ever been taught to suppress the raw magic that threatened to burst from her clenching fists.
Professor Binns seemed at a loss for words before he cleared his throat noisily, "Right, yes. Ahem. Well everyone, begin."
x-x-x
Thankfully, Ancient Runes went over like a dream compared to Muggle Studies. Not only was it Hermione's favorite subject, but Professor Babbling was much like Professor Vector had been: teach the subject and pretend like there wasn't Death Eater royalty in class. Once again, Hermione had earned House points and answered questions correctly. Even the Hufflepuffs seemed to relax by the time the class was over.
"What a morning," Pansy sighed as she stretched her arms above her head and rolled her neck from side to side. "Whoever said having fewer classes this year would be easier certainly didn't choose our schedule. 36 inches of parchment assigned already."
A few Hufflepuffs waved timidly to Hermione as they departed the classroom and she felt her heart lighten a little, "It does seem a tad excessive for the first day, I suppose. Although N.E. are rumored to be quite difficult, so…"
"Whatever, I'm just glad we made it to lunch. At least all we have left for the day is Potions then we can relax a little."
"Do Draco and Blaise have their free periods this afternoon as well? We could all work on our N.E.W.T. projects together."
Pansy laughed, "I'm not sure, but I can tell you confidently that those two will definitely not be using their free period for anything constructive. If anything, Blaise will spend it chasing girls around the castle and Draco will be lounging around the Common Room with a ridiculously expensive bottle of Ogden's finest."
Hermione was surprised, "Sev—ah, Professor Snape allows drinking in the Common Room? That seems so unlike him."
"Of course not," she chuckled again. "But that's never stopped any of the boys from getting pissed in the middle of the day anyway."
A long arm wound around's Pansy's shoulders as Blaise materialized from around the corner, "Who's getting pissed now? And why wasn't I invited?"
Draco fell into step next to Hermione, "I believe she meant us, Blaise."
"Hey, if we didn't still have Potions today, I'd say let's ditch lunch and start early."
Pansy rolled her eyes, shaking his arm off and smiled at Hermione, "Told you."
The boys entered the Great Hall but a small hallway to the left of the large doors caught her eye. She vaguely remembered seeing it on her enchanted map. "Pansy? There is a loo down that hallway, isn't there?"
"Yeah. Do you want me to come with you?"
Hermione thought for a moment, judging the distance between the hall and the large doors as close enough to be safe, "No, I think I will be alright. I doubt anyone would bother me so close to the Great Hall. Go on to lunch, I will meet you at the table."
Pansy hesitated for a second before nodding and leaving her alone.
Hermione was already too far from the entrance to see the look of alarm and anger cross her keeper's face.
