Hermione stalked through the snow, holding a pop-gun to her chest. She knew the wolf was nowhere to be found. She had the impression of overlaying music in her mind, but she couldn't hear it outright.
She kept walking, becoming more confident with each step. Her walking was coming easier, as if the snow wasn't holding her back like it once was. She looked down to see if snowshoes had appeared on her feet and she abruptly stopped walking.
She had wolf paws, not feet, and she hadn't even noticed that she was no longer holding a pop gun.
She smelled something that made her raise her head and sniff. Spices, sandalwood, cooking food.
She loped towards the smell, sensing that it was the sign of something friendly. She broke into a small clearing and stopped when her eyes met Snape's.
He was as he was before, but this time the food was ready and set out. Hermione's mouth watered and she cautiously stepped forward.
He smiled at her. More of a smirk, but still more genuine and warm than Hermione had ever seen.
He made a clicking sound with his tongue and patted a space beside him. Hermione felt compelled to join him, so she trotted over to him and settled into the snow.
He stroked her fur, his slender fingers working through any knot he came across.
She sighed and he passed her a helping of meat. She gulped it down and it was far more delicious than anything she had ever tasted.
He put an arm around her and she settled in. It was so comfortable, how could she not?
He poked at the fire as he hummed Peter and the Wolf and she snuggled closer to him. She closed her eyes and faded into the darkness of dreamless sleep.
She avoided his eyes all day long, going as far as jumping into an abandoned classroom and hiding behind the door.
She couldn't help herself. She had seen him in an entirely different light in her dream and she couldn't shake it. By the end of the day she was jumping at the sound of swishing robes and taking her dinner with the house-elves instead of in the Great Hall.
As she paced in front of the Room of Requirement she tried to think about one of the other pieces she had been introduced to.
She walked into the room and unceremoniously flopped onto the bed that appeared instead of the couch. After the last time on the couch she had a sore neck for two days.
The music started and she closed her eyes. As soon as she began to drift off, the music stopped.
She opened her eyes and saw that the instruments had disappeared. In their place was a piano and Snape was just sitting down to it.
She sighed. If the room wanted him here, then here he would be. At least it wasn't the real Snape.
He began playing Peter and the Wolf, but not any version she had heard. There were no words, but the story played itself out just the same.
She thought of her dream, how it felt to have his hands stroking her. She let her hands wander over herself.
The music never stopped, but she looked up at the sound of footsteps. He was standing over her and the piano was playing itself.
Her eyes raked over him in spite of herself. His face was soft, his lips parted as his eyes slid over her. Her eyes fell on his growing member and she bit her bottom lip. She felt one of her eyebrows twitch and he smirked.
He leaned his pelvis forward, stretching his trousers. She reached up cautiously, hesitating before running her fingers lightly over him. His eyelids fluttered and she heard his voice catch in his throat.
She tugged at his zipper and he jumped at her touch. She drew him out and licked her lips.
She stopped touching herself and knelt on the low bed. She looked up at him as she began to touch him.
He let out a small cry that sounded completely helpless.
She moved faster, manipulating the sounds he made and enjoying the sway she held over him. When she had had enough she pulled him onto the bed.
To her surprise, he began responding, kissing her neck and chest and stroking her back; in return she buried her fingers in his hair.
He kissed her mouth and her mind flew. It had been so long since she had been kissed like this.
When she and Ron were young it was passionate, but over time and through middle-age they had settled into a comfortable routine. It was satisfying, but nothing like this.
She would have felt bad if she were starting another relationship, even embarrassed, but if the Room thought she needed a roll in the hay who was she to argue?
Snape tugged her robes up and she gasped. Finally he found a spot to nestle in and he began rocking her.
Her eyes widened and he kissed at her more furiously. She began to squirm and groan, but he held her tight and stayed at a steady rhythm. She shuddered and cried out as she reached her pleasure.
He thrust into her furiously and she rolled her body against him, gripping his clothing in her fists.
He flipped the both of them so she was on top and he ripped the front of her robes open. She put a hand on either side of him and began pounding.
To her surprise, he cried out as he finished: wrapping his arms around her and drawing her close.
He held her tight for a few moments before loosening his grip on her. She slid off him and searched for her wand to clean them both and to repair her robes. She lay beside him, an arm thrown over him and his curved around her. He kissed her on the forehead before settling in. Moments later he was breathing deeply and snoring like a thunderstorm.
Hermione chuckled to herself. It wouldn't do to sleep here all night and the Room knew it. They still didn't know everything about it, but she never failed to be amazed whenever it did something amazing. Like a not-so-subtle alarm to prevent her from staying the night.
She stretched and disentangled herself from him. She sat on the edge of the bed for a moment and looked down at him.
He really wasn't bad looking when he wasn't scowling. She felt a corner of her mouth creep up and she chuckled.
He had never looked like this before. It was obvious that the room had romanticized him for her benefit. How else could she explain the things she'd never noticed before? The curve of his nose, the slope of his ears, the long eyelashes.
She sighed as she stood up and she ran her hands over her robes to smooth them down before stepping out into the hall.
"Well, you're looking chipper this morning!" Flitwick remarked as he plunked down into his seat during breakfast.
Hermione nearly choked on her tea.
"Got a special lesson tonight!" Sinistra beamed. "Venus is going to be in a most unusual place!"
Flitwick chuckled. "Going to tell us anymore?"
"Spoilers." Sinistra clucked her tongue.
The little man rolled his eyes at her and busied himself with shelling a hard-boiled egg. "One day you'll trust us not to tip off the students."
"Fat chance." Sinistra sniffed.
"And what about you? Gotten any further in the archives?" Flitwick asked.
Hermione groaned.
"I told you, you were taking on too much!" Sinistra scolded her. "See where it's gotten you?"
"I know, I know!" Hermione moaned. "But I'm finally getting sleep…" She trailed off knowing how lame she sounded, but no one else seemed to notice.
"Well, that's good to hear!" Flitwick popped the egg into his mouth and nodded.
"You're so unused to sleep you're bursting full of energy." Sinistra giggled. "Get a calming potion from—"
"I'm getting sick of taking potions!" Hermione groused. "I know they're supposed to be safe, but I just don't think it's good to be drinking them all the time."
"Professor Weasley is correct." A deep voice behind Hermione made her jump. "Potion popping is becoming a serious problem."
"Well, you're up early, Severus!" Flitwick beamed widely. "Join us!"
To Hermione's horror, Snape swept into the seat next to Flitwick and flicked his wand towards a pot of coffee.
"Surely just taking a calming draught in the evening can't cause any harm?" Sinistra asked. "There's a whole industry around it!"
"If any of it worked there wouldn't be a need for an industry." Snape pointed out. Hermione busied herself with her meal. With any luck he'd ignore her like he usually did. "How many potions have you been taking?"
Hermione almost squeaked when she realized he was talking to her. She calmed herself down before spearing a sausage with her fork. "Not many these days. I'm finally getting settled in."
Snape nodded but said nothing. She briefly wondered what it was like when he had come to Hogwarts. Was he already moved in when James and Lily Potter had been killed? What had happened to his own family?
"I'm sure having all your meals prepared for you is somewhat of a perk!" Flitwick grabbed an orange and carefully broke the skin with his knife. He set it down and picked at the fruit with his fingers.
"I'm sure it was, for you!" Sinistra snorted. "I swear you eat three times as much as everyone else!"
"And yet, I manage to keep my girlish figure," Flitwick smiled and scrunched his nose up.
Thankfully, there were no more surprises during breakfast and Hermione managed to slip off, leaving the rest of the professors behind. She didn't breathe normally until she was in her quarters.
When she entered the room he was already there: his back to her and his hair hanging loose around his shoulders. She watched him silently for a moment, wondering what the room had in store for her.
A silky tune started with percussion softly joining it. It reminded her of the wind in the desert and the scent of open markets and spices.
The walls churned and turned into thick hangings, the floor to intricate rugs, her couch to a lounging platform decorated with silk pillows. She made her way to it quietly, slipping onto it and making herself comfortable. She accidentally bumped a large pink pillow to the floor and as it rolled over to him, Snape looked up and met her eyes.
Was it her imagination or did he blush? What did the Room think she needed?
He made notations on the score in front of him and the music changed into something deeper, something that took over her senses and made her cheeks hot.
He put the quill down and walked towards her.
"Anything interesting?"
Hermione jumped as the voice came from over her shoulder.
"I didn't hear you come in." Hermione grinned sheepishly. "According to most of the records the Room was used for storage."
"How far back have you gotten?" Flitwick asked her.
"Sixteenth century." She made a face. "It's awfully dry reading."
"I've been on working on a charm for that." Flitwick walked to a cabinet in the Faculty room and rustled around until he came up with a bottle. "Something to cut down on research time."
"Well, let me know when you've got it working. I could use it."
Flitwick snorted. "You and everyone else. You know, you might try asking the Room. You spend enough time in there, it might just tell you."
Hermione quirked a corner of her mouth as she closed the thick book. She ran her hands through her hair without thinking, and then scowled at what she knew she must look like. She nodded at the bottle. "Don't you have rounds later?"
Flitwick snorted. "Hours from now and I'm not taking the whole bottle."
"Oh, fix me one as well." She stretched like a cat and rolled her shoulders. "I've lost track of time, but it's probably late enough."
"You've got twenty minutes before dinner." Flitwick poured each of them a drink in small glass tumblers, and then conjured ice that clinked against the sides.
"It's later than I thought." Hermione blinked.
"When's the last time you took a break?" He peered at her.
"I started reading after Arithmancy." Hermione confessed.
"This morning?" He raised an eyebrow at her.
"It was almost noon," she said weakly.
"Should I give this to you?" He smiled slyly at her. "Or will you be gracing us with a song during dinner?"
"Oh, for pity's sake, it was only once!" She grumbled. "And it took a lot more than this."
"Such a shame." Flitwick shook his head as he handed her the drink. "We could use a bit of entertainment."
She made a face at him as the glass met her lips. It burned, bit it was only a sip. She rolled it over her tongue before swallowing. "I may need an escort to get me up to the Head Table."
Flitwick chuckled as he threw back his glass and reached for the bottle again.
"Had a rough day?" Hermione remarked.
"I swear, the Hufflepuffs are out to kill me this year—"
The door to the Faculty Room banged open and Snape stepped through it calmly. Hermione froze in place and Flitwick forgot he was pouring. He looked down at the almost-full tumbler and swore.
"Thank you," Severus said as he swept by, picking it up as he dropped dramatically into an overstuffed armchair.
Flitwick continued to stare, but Hermione's eyes were starting to water.
"What, in the name of Merlin, happened to you?" Hermione asked, her voice just above a whisper.
"Rogue Hufflepuff." Snape growled. There were wisps of grey seeping from his robes, but steam or smoke, Hermione didn't know. It was a rancid, dank smell that made Hermione want to fling open a window. His hair was standing on end and it looked noticeably singed. Strangely, it seemed to be letting off vapor in the shape of flower petals that reeked of rotting roses.
"I told you!" Flitwick squeaked excitedly.
Hermione rolled her eyes, and then gave Snape a wary look. "Shouldn't you go to the hospital wing?" She waved her wand at him and his clothing briefly disappeared, only to be replaced with plain black robes. Then she waved her wand again and the windows flew open.
"You may want to wallow in that stink, but I don't have to put up with it. That hair's quite enough." She tried to sound normal, but in that blink between sets of clothing she had gotten a good look at his upper chest and shoulders and the Room of Requirement had been fairly accurate.
He opened his mouth, but ended up shutting it and knitting his eyebrows at her as he drank.
Hermione finished her drink before looking to Flitwick. He held out his arm to her. She smiled and let him help her to her feet. She teetered, but managed to stay upright.
"Come to dinner, Severus," Flitwick called over his shoulder. "You'll pay for it in the morning if you don't."
He made a grouchy noise as the other two professors walked out.
"You know I'm right!"
Snape did not, in fact, join the rest of the staff for dinner, but Hermione and Flitwick had it on good authority that he had finally made his way to the hospital wing and Madame Pomfrey had forced him to eat some soup and a sandwich as she applied a special potion to his head.
Flitwick had asked for pictures, but sadly, there weren't any.
Hermione made her way, nervously, to the Room of Requirement. When the door opened the instruments were there, as usual, but there was no Snape.
She almost hoped he wouldn't appear tonight. She liked it very much when he did, but it made the next morning difficult. She avoided him during the day if she could, but that was proving to be more difficult lately. He, as well as every other professor in the school, was seeking out Professor Flitwick at all hours, inquiring about his latest project.
Her eyes darted around before they let upon the bed. It seemed much smaller than usual, but Hermione still fit onto it comfortably.
The strains of Peter and the Wolf started and she took a deep breath. She lay back on the pillow and sighed as the music washed over her. It sounded strange, to hear it without any narration, but it still relaxed her.
She closed her eyes and dreamed.
She was floating, high above Hogwarts. She wasn't afraid; it was if she were being held up by something she couldn't see.
She watched a pelican with horn-rimmed glasses fly by her. It opened its mouth and a tiny baby Hugo was fast asleep inside the satin-lined pouch. It closed its mouth and flew off and Hermione sang to it until it disappeared. She heard a piano and she looked up to see Snape on a cloud above her, playing a piano made of glass and humming a song she had never heard before.
He looked down and saw her. His hand reached down to her and she felt him pull her up to where he was. She didn't know what to say to him before he opened his mouth.
"If down is up, and up is down, then how do we know which one of us is real?"
"What?" She asked.
She opened her eyes to see the instruments had disappeared and low-burning torches lit the bare room around her.
She blinked and shook her head. Her heart was pounding, but she didn't know why. For some reason she was scared to step out into the hall; into the darkness where anything could be lurking. She shivered and pulled the covers up to her chin before closing her eyes. She forced herself to breathe deeply and was soon drifting off again.
In her dream she continued to float over Hogwarts, but when she looked up, Ron was there instead of Snape. She felt guilty and Ron seemed to know it.
He tilted back his head and laughed at her. "It's 'til death do us part,' you ninny."
"I—I—"
"Forget about me, can you imagine Hugo's face?" Ron cackled wildly. "Keep it fresh in your mind so you can show me when you get here!"
Hermione sat straight up in the tiny bed and flung the covers off herself. She couldn't stay in the Room no matter what was out in the halls. She made her way to the door and peered out. The hall was empty and dimly lit by torches.
She skulked through the castle until she got closer to her quarters. She heard a soft tapping that became sharper and insistent the closer she got to her room. She rounded a corner and saw Sinistra and Flitwick murmuring and knocking on her door.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked. Both of the other professors jumped at the sound of her voice.
"I finished my class and he finished his rounds," Sinistra said sheepishly. "We thought you might be up, but then no one answered…"
"Basilisk ate me up. No Arithmancy professors here." Hermione grinned at the pair. "Come in for some tea?"
"That would be nice," Flitwick said in a hopeful voice.
Hermione muttered the password that unlocked her door and they walked into her quarters. Dim candles burned all around the room and a plate of sandwiches waited for her. Hermione frowned. "Did you do this?"
"We thought you might be coaxed out of bed with a snack." Flitwick blushed.
Sinistra snorted. "I'm fairly certain that's just you."
The little man scowled at her, but said nothing.
"Put the kettle on, will you?" Hermione sighed. "I'm going to wash my face."
"So, where were you?" Sinistra asked as Hermione busied herself in her bathroom.
"Fell asleep like a nitwit. Decided it was probably better to continue in here." Hermione rinsed her face and yawned. She walked back into her room and plunked down in a chair. "What would you have done if you couldn't find me?"
"Asked the ghosts to go look for you." Flitwick shrugged. The teapot began pouring itself into the three teacups Flitwick had transfigured from quills. "But, you showed up, after all."
Hermione closed her eyes, raised her eyebrows, and smoothed them down. "I really should get back to those Archives. See if there's anything in the room that messes with your dreams."
"How?" Sinistra looked interested. Hermione blushed deeply. "Oh, now you have to tell us!"
Hermione opened and then closed her mouth. "Ron told me I should date Severus."
Flitwick choked violently and tea splattered out of his nose and onto the small table.
"See? I shouldn't have told you!" Hermione cried as she pounded him so hard on the back he fell from his chair.
Sinistra was laughing too hard to be of any use to anyone. "What else has been going on in there?"
Hermione blushed even redder.
"You know what? I don't want to know!" Flitwick spluttered. "Not one bit!"
Hermione had to giggle, in spite of herself.
"Well, I do!" Sinistra looked as if Christmas had come early.
Hermione shook her head furiously. "Not on your life!"
"Humph! You know you'll tell us eventually. You always do." Sinistra crossed her arms.
Hermione turned even redder. "Not this time."
This time the clearing was free of snow. Hermione knew there was no wolf about and she happily frolicked with the animal friends in a large field. She sensed Snape nearby, in the forest.
Somehow, she knew that if she decided to join them, the wolf would be as tame as a dog and would do her friends no harm. But she couldn't. She wanted to, Gods only knew how much she wanted to, but she couldn't.
Bubbling up in her chest was a feeling she had tried to push away, but now she couldn't avoid it.
She wouldn't be able to take it if he thought she was a fool. That she was desperate. Pathetic. Of all the things that could happen that was the one that stood out, blaring like a thousand trumpets, a song she couldn't ignore.
She stopped playing with her friends and stood still for a moment. The skies began to darken and it began raining. She and her friends ran to a small cabin nearby. The animals ran in easily, but the cabin had begun to shrink and in the end, she had to pull her foot inside quickly before the frame caught her.
The lights dimmed. She was wet, but the room was warm and there was room for everybody. A small window remained, but it quickly began fogging up.
She saw Snape walk into the clearing and knew he hadn't a chance of spotting the tiny cabin. She rubbed her finger against the glass to see better, but all he was doing was standing in the rain and looking around.
Hermione strode through the hallway, her cheeks glowing and her mind clear. She headed for the Room of Requirement with a bounce in her step. She had finally shook free of her nervousness and looked forward the the scenarios the Room of Requirement created for her. The door swung open fluidly for her and Hermione smiled when she spotted Snape at his instruments. He looked at her blankly as she went to her couch and sat, waiting for him to begin.
He stared at her for a moment. Hermione settled comfortably and closed her eyes, sighing. There was a sound like a violin hitting the floor and her eyes flew open to see him back towards the door. His face was pale and his eyes were scared.
Her lips parted but no sound came out.
He fumbled behind himself until he found the doorknob. He flung it open and retreated from the room. Hard footsteps ran down the hallway, away from her and the Room.
Her heart tried to beat itself out of her chest. Her mouth kept opening and closing. She felt numb, she felt faint, she felt like her blood was going from fire to ice and back again. She felt nauseous.
She got to her feet shakily and walked softly to the doorway. There was no one in the hallway. Even the air seemed still.
She ran to the nearest laundry chute and dove into it. As it zipped towards her floor she found herself mentally urging it to go faster. When it stopped she peered out into the hallway. She could see nothing besides the tapestry outside her room and the castle was silent.
She carefully got out of the chute and tiptoed to her room. She paused before walking in. What if he was here waiting for her? What if he had told McGonagall? What if he was pressing charges?
She began to prepare some tea, measuring out the ingredients as if it were a highly volatile potion. Concentrating on something so delicate helped.
There was a knock at the door and she jumped, upsetting the pot and pouring water down the front of her robes.
She swore and felt a wave of hysteria.
She opened the door and saw Flitwick standing there, beaming at her.
"I've got it!" He squeaked. "The end actually needs a flourish at the end! Temperamental little thing, but it works!" He squinted at her. "What happened to you?"
She opened and closed her mouth, this time irritated at herself for doing it. She took a deep breath. "Something unexpected."
He pressed a folded up piece of parchment into her hand and took her by the elbow. "You sit. I'll get tea."
Hermione did as she was told, not even blinking when he waved his wand to tidy up the mess she had made. She swallowed when he glanced at her.
"You look like you just realized you handed over national secrets to You-Know-Who by accident."
Hermione groaned and laid her head on the table, into her folded arms.
"No…" Flitwick teased. "If you'd done that you'd be mad and working up some plan to use it to our advantage." There was no response from her. "It's that bad?"
"It's beyond bad," Hermione said in a quavering voice. "And I don't think I can tell anyone."
"Why not?" Flitwick looked at her seriously.
"It—it involves someone else."
"Anything to do with a certain professor?" Flitwick was looking more amused by the minute, but Hermione felt worse.
"I don't want to talk about it." Her head was beginning to throb.
"All right." Flitwick transfigured them teacups and placed them on the table before summoning a plate of sweets. "Eat a biscuit. Everything always feels a little better after tea and a biscuit."
Hermione gave him a crooked smile, in spite of herself. "Wish it was that easy this time."
"Think about it this way: one day this day will be far in the past." Flitwick shrugged as he filled their cups. "I need to get one of these."
"Gift from Molly, but I examined it and it's just a few localized Hot Hexes. You can even do it to a single cup if you want to." Hermione shrugged. "It's rather handy, though."
There was a knock on the door and Hermione jumped, spilling the hot tea down the front of her robes. Again.
Flitwick gave her a look of concern as he waved his wand, cleaning her robes. Again.
"You let me in!" Sinistra's voice was muffled.
Flitwick hurried over to the door and opened it.
The witch strode in and peered at Hermione. "What have you done to Severus?"
"What haven't I done to Severus?" Hermione groaned.
"What?" Sinistra looked confused.
Hermione shook her head dismissively. "Nothing. What's he doing?"
"Draining the school's supply of rum and cackling like a madman." Sinistra looked confused.
"It's not magic, if that's what you're thinking. I haven't hexed him yet." Hermione let out a sigh and refilled her teacup.
"Well, that's a relief," Sinistra said seriously. "What happened?"
"She doesn't want to talk about it," Flitwick scolded her.
"All right," Sinistra said warily. "But if you change your mind—"
"I'm sure you'll be the first person she tells, nosy." Flitwick rolled his eyes.
Hermione nodded in agreement, which seemed to satisfy the older witch.
"Make sure you do."
Hermione dreaded breakfast, but there was no excuse for missing it. People would notice if she turned into a hermit after she had finally turned things around and started acting social.
She hoped he would stay to his end of the table. Prayed he would keep to himself.
To her surprise, though it really shouldn't have surprised her at all, his seat was vacant.
"Did you hear?" Sinistra asked in a teasing voice. "Severus is taking a leave of absence."
Hermione's heart sank. "He isn't."
"He is," Flitwick said as he waved a fork at her.
Hermione groaned as she sank into her seat.
"Still don't want to talk about it?" Sinistra said cloyingly.
"Absolutely," Hermione said firmly.
The first few days were hard, but when it became a full week with no sign of Snape, Hermione began to worry in a different way than before. She didn't want to look strange by inquiring, but wanted desperately to ask about his well-being.
"I've got news for you." Flitwick was poking at the food on his plate with a long, gold fork.
"What's that?" Hermione asked.
"Severus is in Gay Parée!" Flitwick said with a flourish of his fork and a horrible fake-accent.
'The City of Love.' Hermione thought before she got angry at herself again. Idiot.
"Seems like an odd spot for him," Sinistra said as she cut up a sausage. "What's he doing there?"
"Research," Flitwick said with a twinkle in his eye.
Hermione groaned.
"Are you ever going to tell us what happened?" Sinistra asked impatiently.
"If you give me Veritaserum, I swear I'll jump out a window before I talk," Hermione said with a shake of her head.
The older woman put a hand on her arm. "We're serious this time. You need to tell us what happened."
"I'll—I'll tell you tomorrow," Hermione promised. "I just need another day to process it."
Flitwick gave her a look of concern. "You know we're discreet."
"It's not just about me, this time." Hermione felt tears of frustration rising, but she blinked them back down.
Hermione walked through the dark halls of Hogwarts. Her rounds had been over hours ago, but she discovered that long walks in the castle at night could be peaceful. She found that she loved shadows. Her experiences with the invisibility cloak had been amusing, for the most part, but it was nothing like the thrill of hiding in plain sight. She could understand why Snape did it so much.
She felt a lump in her throat as a wave of guilt rushed over her.
She went back to her rooms and threw herself into an overstuffed chair. Her eyes fell on her table and the small piece of folded paper.
Flitwick had said it was tricky. Maybe even tricky enough that it would distract her.
She flicked her wand and the paper flew to her. Flitwick hadn't been exaggerating, it certainly looked complicated. Hermione's first attempt fizzled. The second blew the book off of the table. The third backfired silver sparks that caused Hermione to drop her wand and shake her hand.
She narrowed her eyes at the parchment as she reached for her wand. She tried the spell again, this time paying extra attention to the flourish at the end.
The book Sinistra had lent her rose into the air, its ancient pages separating itself into distinct groups to make up for lack of a bookmark. Hermione screwed up her face. That might be something to consider when suggesting things to Flitwick.
She picked up several lengths of ribbon before approaching the book. As she slipped the ribbon between the pages the book almost seemed to relax and she plucked it from the air easily.
She began reading and her eyes went wide. She almost made for her door, but she realized most of the castle was still asleep and professors liked being woken up about as much as anyone.
She sighed and set the book down. Tomorrow was Saturday. She could spend the whole day tracking people down if she needed to.
Hermione woke and stretched her arms. She had stayed up so late she had grabbed an early breakfast in the kitchens instead of facing the Hall right before she went to bed. She looked at her clock and groaned. Nearly 1 o'clock in the afternoon and she was still short of a full night's rest.
Her eyes fell on the book lying on her table. It hadn't been a dream, after all. She shook her head and it started pounding. She glanced at her tea pot, but this time she needed something a bit stronger. No one would ever know. It didn't have to leave her rooms.
She glanced around for a moment before realizing how silly she she was acting.
She waved her wand and a tall glass appeared in front of her. Fizzy brown liquid swirled around from the trip, but not a drop had been spilled.
Hermione took the glass and drank deeply. She sighed as she conjured some toast and a boiled egg. She drank again, this time scrunching up her nose. She had always enjoyed the bubbles, but at her age the only thing they did was tickle her nose. She burped, and then giggled at herself. She hadn't had a breakfast this unhealthy since uni. What on earth would the children think?
She scarfed down the rest of her extremely late breakfast and finished her fizzy drink before washing her face and getting dressed. She slid the archives into a small satchel and made her way to the Astronomy Tower.
The grass was lush and long. It had drizzled the night before and it made her walk difficult, but she finally got to her destination.
There was a sound like an explosion above her and she shielded herself before she looked up. Bits of paper fluttered through the air; twisting on the wind before they softly landed on the grass.
Flitwick's scowling face appeared from a window, but it lit up at the sight of Hermione.
"Bring those up, will you?" His head popped back into the tower.
Hermione looked around and sighed. She waved her wand and the scraps of paper flew through the air, funneling themselves into the satchel she was carrying.
She began the march up to the third floor, feeling slightly winded when she got there.
The room looked even worse than the mess outside. Hermione shook her head and dumped out her satchel on a table laden with a tea service and little cakes, decorated liberally with small bits of paper.
Hermione raised an eye at Sinistra, who was blushing bright pink. "Forgot the little flourish at the end, didn't you?"
The older professor nodded and looked deeply embarrassed.
"We'll have everything back to normal in a few minutes," Flitwick scoffed. "I said it was tricky. I shouldn't think anyone would have gotten it right their first time."
"I didn't," Hermione admitted. "Wand backfired and singed me."
Flitwick raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Well, that's a new one. What did you do wrong?"
"If I knew I wouldn't be so nervous about trying again. I used bookmarks." Hermione shrugged as she waved her wand. The other two professors joined her and soon bits of paper were swirling around the room as they put themselves back together, finally settling down and gently placing an enormous book on the table.
"Great Merlin, what on earth is that?" Hermione asked.
"Astronomy archives for the last thousand years. Some of those old wizards sure liked to blather on." Sinistra rolled her eyes.
Hermione smiled and tried to suppress a chuckle. Her eyes went to the table of tea and cakes.
"Help yourself," Flitwick encouraged her. "What have you brought us?"
Her eyes flicked to Sinistra for a moment. "I found the origin of the Room of Requirement and its original purpose. It was only mentioned in bits and pieces here and there, but the spell helped compile everything together."
Sinistra went to the archival book as Hermione helped herself to a tiny piece of cake decorated with a pink and yellow rose.
As she began paging through it, Flitwick's eyebrows went up as he craned his neck to read. "So that's what you've been up to!"
Sinistra closed the book before she had read everything.
"You need to go after him and make him read this, whether he likes it or not. Then you can decide what to do."
Hermione nodded somberly. "I wouldn't even know where to begin."
"But you know someone that can help with that," Sinistra said in a reminding sort of voice.
"Really?" Hermione looked bewildered. "Who?"