Chapter six: Castles and Letters
Hermione had once again been offered the Prefect badge with Ron, but this time she sent it back- surprised they'd even offered it with everything she would have in front of her for the year. NEWTs were only a year away, and as much as she told herself she wouldn't, she knew she would end up helping Ron and Harry through them. Not to mention Evie needed her. She would be preoccupied with taking care of her to do rounds and bed checks. Not only that, but she hadn't forgotten about Professor Dumbledore's blackened hand. In fact, two of the extra books Mrs. Weasley had picked up for her were about curses and the effects of dark magic. Not to mention the mystery of Malfoy and Harry's growing obsession with the Slytherin. She hadn't said so because she didn't want to encourage him, but she agreed with Harry that he had perhaps taken the Dark Mark. She also remembered Professor Snape's implication of such a few weeks ago, but that was another thing she wasn't going to mention.
The night before the first of September, Hermione stayed up putting together her new trunk- having to carefully arrange things so that Evie's things would fit as well. She hadn't been able to afford two new trunks on top of the new clothes she and Evie both needed and all of the books. And she'd gotten a lot of books. She quietly promised herself, as she tried close the trunk while Ginny sat on it, that in her next life she would choose a less expensive and more easily transported obsession.
"Are you okay?" The redheaded girl asked in a whisper. Evie was asleep, not having been too happy to be told to go to bed early. "I mean, I know you're not. And I know we've been a bit, well, overbearing. It's just, it's like you haven't been here. You've just been distant. Oh Merlin, I didn't mean-"
Hermione huffed something of a laugh. "I know what you meant, Gin. It's alright. I just- I'm okay. I'm not fine, and I'm not really sure how to feel, but I'm okay. And, I think I'm going to be fine, even if I'm not right now. Does that make sense? Got it!"
The trunk clicked closed and Ginny hopped off of it. "I just worry about you. We all do."
"I know," Hermione told her. "Thanks, Gin."
It was late when she finally got around to writing No One back, and she tried to argue that it was too late. She knew they would be getting up early, and she knew she would have to make Evie eat breakfast as her sister wasn't much for food first thing in the morning. Especially when she's woken up early and on a schedule.
No One,
I feel like I should know who you are. Your hints leave something to be desired, but it won't stop me from requesting more of them. I will tell you about my home, if you tell me more about yourself. I grew up just outside of London in Theydon Bois. My parents were both dentists (teeth healers), but only my mother was a cosmetic dentist- having a practice in London proper. My father worked as an oral surgeon, also in London. Evie will be eight in January. All her teachers said she's the brightest in their class. She loves to read, but hates to read in public. Probably because, like me, you can tell how much she likes her book by how much she talks to it.
I find it odd that you asked to know more about Evie and my parents, rather than asking about me. That would imply that you know enough about me not to need to ask, but you don't know me on too personal a level that you would know about my home life. I never talk about Evie at Hogwarts because I always feel like its telling stories, so it's possible you didn't even know I had a sister until the first letter. This increases the chances that you aren't in my House. And you're older. I can tell by your vocabulary (if there was someone else my age who spoke like you do I would notice), and the fact that you speak about your parents like they're long gone.
You're in a position of authority. Perhaps a prefect or even Head Boy or Girl now. It is my guess that you are male. You don't flourish your words to be impressive the way girls have the tendency to do, and the way you talk about wanting a sister. In a protective way, rather than in longing for someone to gossip with.
Are you a Death Eater? I only ask because you seem to know how I feel, to a point of also being on a side of the war. And the way you wrote 'summoned' and about having impossible things asked of you. I suppose you could just as easily be working for Professor Dumbledore, but there seems to be more to it.
I'm scaring you, aren't I? Please don't not write back because you're afraid I'll figure it out. I will. You must have known that when you sent your most recent letter. I promise that if I do, I won't say anything. I won't even tell you if that is what you wish. Let's just, ignore the war. Ignore the fact that we 'know' each other. Let's be strangers. Let's be no one.
I, for example, am a no one who has a particular fondness for porridge with blackberries in it. I like to read, though not as much as people tend to assume. I actually prefer music to studies, and the only reason I read as much as I do is because I like knowing things others don't. My favorite subjects are Transfiguration, Potions, and Ancient Runes (in that order). I know French, Bulgarian, and a little Latin. My favorite color is blue. Tell me yours?
-No One.
"Evie, eat your breakfast."
"I don't want to."
"I didn't ask if you wanted to. I told you to do it."
"You aren't eating your breakfast," the girl said obstinately, crossing her arms and leaning back in the chair with a challenging look on her face.
Hermione groaned. It was to be that kind of day, was it? "I'm not eating because someone, not to point fingers but their initials are Evangeline Cordelia Granger, didn't give me all of their books last night to pack like I asked her to. Do you realize how long it took to pack? How long it's going to take on a morning that we are already rushing to repack everything in a way to make room?"
"You're magic. You can do it."
Hermione realized she was leaning in to the girl and stepped away, her balled fist against her forehead and pounding it lightly, to keep from strangling her sister. "It is a day-long journey. It will be very late when we get there, and aside from candy this is all the food you'll be offered or made available to until then, eat your bloody breakfast!"
Everyone else looked at her in surprise that she was yelling, but Evie only returned the glare evenly and took a bite toast before throwing it back to her plate. "There!" She said as she chewed angrily. "Happy?"
Hermione stood there looking at Evie for a moment before shaking her head. "Fine. Starve. I had better not hear a single complaint from you on the train, or Merlin help you you will go to bed as soon as the feast is over. Am I understood?"
She didn't wait for an answer before running up the stairs and to their trunk. How had Evie accidentally 'missed' seven books when helping Hermione put their stuff together.
Are you sure? She'd asked. Is that everything? She'd questioned. And Evie had insisted that she hadn't forgotten anything. How does someone forget seven books? Particularly when two of the seven were ones she was currently reading. You don't. Hermione had read that Evie might 'test' her to see how far she could go. But this? What was the point of this?
Once the books were stuffed in the trunk, Hermione sat on it sighing to herself. She wasn't sure if she could handle being tested right now. Not when they would be at Hogwarts with potential dangers. Suppose one of Evie's tests included running off alone after curfew? Well, Hermione knew Harry had the Marauders Map, but still.
When she came back downstairs, Evie still wasn't dressed.
"Evie, we talked about this. Go get dressed."
"I don't want to."
Hermione and Evie stood across the sitting room from each other, the former's hair crackling in a way her friends recognized. They knew that pushing past this point was never a good idea. They hoped, for the girl's sake, that Evie knew this too.
"Evie, please go get dressed."
"No." Apparently she didn't know.
"Evie, dear, maybe you should listen-"
Evie interrupted Mrs. Weasley, who'd laid a gentle hand on her arm. "I'm not doing it. I don't want to."
Hermione nodded, looking around to see that everyone else was ready and waiting for she and Evie. "Well," she said in a dangerous voice. "If you don't want to then I suppose there's nothing else I can do about it. You'll just have to stay here."
Evie looked startled. "What?"
"Well, if you won't listen to me here, then you obviously wouldn't listen to me at Hogwarts either. And you can't go to King's Cross in your nightclothes, can you? Shall we, everyone?"
Everyone sent Hermione uneasy looks, except for Mrs. Weasley who knew from experience that when children were difficult you sometimes had to do what it took. Many a time she had threatened to leave one of her brood because they couldn't behave. The group made it outside and to the Ministry cars where the assigned Aurors began helping them load their things.
"Don't look back," Hermione said, startling Harry who was in the process of doing so. "She's watching and trying to figure out if I'm being serious or not."
"Well, you aren't," Ron said, "are you?"
Hermione gave him a look. "No, but I cannot put into words how sorely tempted I am."
Once everything was in place, and Hermione's bag with her that she still had from her parent's storage unit, she was the last to get in one of the cars- the others already having left. She opened the car door and began to get in when the front door of the Burrow banged open and Evie came running out as fast as she could, wearing the clothes Hermione had laid out for her and carrying her Pygmy Puff close to her chest.
"Wait!" She yelled at them with a tremor in her voice. "I'm right here! Wait!"
Hermione paused and glanced over as Evie reached them. "Oh! Hello. Decide to get dressed did you?"
Evie looked up at her with tearful eyes. "Please don't leave me here."
"No?" Hermione asked with fake surprise. "I'm sure Mrs. Weasley would love to have you."
The girl's eyes widened, tears in them, and Hermione sighed. "Are you going to behave from here on out?"
Evie nodded.
"Are you going to give me anymore problems?"
She shook her head. Hermione softened her expression.
"Are you hungry?" Evie nodded with a sniff and a near sob. Hermione sighed. "Get in the car."
Once they were all buckled, and on the road to the station with Harry, Ron, and Ginny giving her awed expressions- and Mrs. Weasley giving her one of pride- Hermione dug through the large purse/diaper bag and pulled out a granola bar for Evie.
"Anything off the- oh! Hello, dear! You must be Miss Evangeline. Headmaster's told us all about you."
Hermione, Harry, and Evie were sitting with Neville and Luna- who absolutely adored Evie, telling her about something called 'Nargles'. Evie looked up at the woman pushing the treat trolley bashfully, a faint blush rising to her cheeks at the recognition.
"Hello," she said quietly.
"Um, two licorice wands please," Hermione said, "and a pack of sugar quills. Evie, see anything you want? Is there anything you want to try?"
"Chocolate Frog?" she asked. Ron had gotten her addicted to them over the summer. "Are there any Cauldron Cakes?"
Hermione added those and paid the woman, coming back to sit down. Once the woman was gone, and no one ever seemed to know her name, there was some commotion outside of their compartment before the door opened again. It was a group of giggling girls- oh, how Hermione loathed giggling girls- from fourth year it appeared. Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to their string game.
"You ask him!"
"No, you!"
"I'll do it!" A girl with dark hair and a bold attitude stepped forward to Harry. "Hi, Harry. I'm Romilda, Romilda Vane. Why don't you join us in our compartment? You don't have to sit with them."
She scoffed at Luna and Neville in particular. Hermione almost rolled her eyes again, but stopped herself when she saw Evie looking at her. That was the last habit she wanted her sister to pick up. Especially today when she'd already been difficult.
"They're my friends," Harry said coldly.
After they left, Evie asked, "If they only wanted to sit with you, why didn't they just sit in here with us? There's room."
"Because Harry is famous," Hermione reminded. "They expect him to have cooler friends. And they don't really care about Harry the way we do, they just care that he's famous."
Evie frowned. "Well," she said, looking down at their cat's cradle. "That's rude."
The door to their compartment rolled open again and Ron stood there. He briefly greeted everyone in the cabin, gratefully taking the chocolate frog Evie offered him, before turning his eyes to Harry.
"Malfoy wasn't doing his Prefect duties," he told him.
"What?" Hermione asked in surprise.
Ron looked over to her with a spark of excitement in his eyes. "Yeah," he told her breathlessly, as though he couldn't wait to tell them. "He was just in a compartment with some other Slytherins when we passed."
"How did he seem?" Harry demanded.
Hermione tried to make eye contact with Ron and give him a signal that he shouldn't answer, but he was too excited with his information. Hermione wasn't sure Harry's newfound, or perhaps only strengthened, obsession with Malfoy was healthy.
"He acted about how one might expect, but its odd innit? Not like him at all. Well, I mean of course the insults, but when does he turn down a chance to terrorize firsties?"
"Firsties?" Evie asked.
"He means first years," Hermione explained offhandedly, looking back to the redhead. "And- sure its strange, but honestly. Imagine what his summer was probably like? With Voldemort returned and his father on the run from Aurors?"
"Now don't go defending him, Mione," Harry said in a frustrated tone.
"She's not defending him," Luna said in a mild, placating tone. "She was trying to give some perspective and keep you from doing something dangerous that would likely end with you covered in blood. You're always covered in blood, you know."
At the Ravenclaws interruption, Harry immediately calmed down, losing the tension in his shoulders but not the glint in his eyes that Hermione knew too well.
There was a knock.
Ron, being closest and not having sat down yet, turned and slid the door open- revealing a trembling third year who looked at everyone in terror before her eyes found Harry's scar.
"I'm supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom and H-Harry P-Potter."
She held out two rolled up pieces of parchment, tied with violet ribbons. When Harry took his from her, she drew away- practically throwing the parchment at him before fleeing the compartment. They could hear sobs as she ran. Everyone turned their glances to Harry, who sighed.
"At least this one didn't scream," he said in a mumble, looking at the door she'd ran from before untying and unrolling his parchment as Neville did the same.
Hermione turned back to Evie, whose hands were tangled trying to make Jacob's Ladder. She tried to undo the chaos, pointing and moving loops to the appropriate fingers.
"What is it?" She heard Ron ask. She glanced up when Harry said it was an invitation.
"Who's Horace Slughorn?" Neville asked, offering his to Hermione to read.
"New teacher," Harry told him, obviously thinking of Defense Against the Dark Arts. "Well, I suppose we'll have to go, won't we?"
"But what does he want me for?" Neville asked nervously.
"No idea," Harry lied.
Hermione could always tell when he was lying, glancing up from Neville's invitation to tell him so with a look. He caught it, guiltily looking away, and she went back to studying the flourished writing- trying to remember what she knew of graphology. He was a people person; ambitious, cunning, non confrontational. Perhaps a Slytherin, maybe he'd even been Head of House before Professor Snape. Remus had told her he liked to 'collect' people. That would explain Neville being invited- son of two tragic war heroes.
After Harry and Neville left, under the Invisibility Cloak despite her mild protests, she found herself thinking about No One. His writing indicated a withdrawn, meticulous, and perhaps studious person. Logical, systematic, skeptical, stressed. Oh so stressed. And empathetic- which didn't exactly feel consistent with the rest of his personality, but at the same time fitting perfectly. And each of these were supported by the content of his letters as well.
Harry and Neville were gone longer than she'd expected, but she wasn't worried until Neville and Ginny entered the compartment without him. Then she was even more so when they told her that he'd gone to spy on Malfoy. What was he thinking so close to the school? He should be getting into his uniform.
Ron and Neville left the cabin to get changed so she, Luna, Ginny, and Evie could do the same. Hermione knew that her sister wasn't technically a student (hopefully yet), but didn't think it right that she dress casually when attending Hermione's classes with her. She'd bought her her own little uniform to wear, that was different that everyone else's, but still appropriate with its white button down shirt, black tie, gray vest, and black skirt. And with her outer robes, she could almost be taken as a first year.
When everyone was dressed and the train was stopped, Harry still hadn't returned. Hermione was tempted to go looking for him, and if she didn't have Evie she very well might have, but instead she followed her other friends to the carriages. And this time, all of their group could see the Thestrals.
The six of them stopped short at the sight of the skeletal creature- staring at them and, with perhaps the exception of Evie, accepting to themselves that the war had truly begun.
"What's that," Evie asked, looking at it in amazement and wonder.
"That," Hermione said, conflicted at the thought that her seven year old sister could see Thestrals, "is a Thestral."
The group shook out of their thoughts, stepping up and into the carriage. Hermione helped Evie up before following, hearing Luna wistfully tell Evie about riding the Thestrals to London. Hermione watched Evie's face that entire ride, waiting for when her sister would get her first glance of Hogwarts. Just as Hermione was thinking to herself that they should be close, Evie's eyes widened- causing Hermione to grin.
"Oh my gosh," she whispered, staring wide eyed at the castle. The louder. "Oh my gosh." Then a shriek as she stood up. "Oh my gosh! Is that Hogwarts? That's Hogwarts! Oh my gosh- wait. Witches don't say gosh. What do witches say?"
She looked to Hermione for an answer with a grin and light in her eye that Hermione hadn't seen in the past few weeks.
"Merlin," Hermione supplied. "We say 'Merlin'."
"Merlin," Evie tested, smiling even broader. "Merlin. Oh my Merlin."
Hermione only barely stopped her from jumping up and down in the carriage. Evie sat back down, her blue eyes glittering from the combined light of the castle and the stars and her leg bouncing from excitement and impatience.
When they entered the Great Hall, Harry was still nowhere to be found. Hermione scanned the Head Table for any sign that someone knew something and found Slughorn- Professor Slughorn, she reminded herself- almost immediately. He sat between Professors Snape and Flitwick, a portly, balding man with a calculating look in his eye as he watched the students. No doubt he was wondering who he could add to his collection. As she studied the new Potions teacher, her eyes moved over to Professor Snape who was looking at her as well. Hermione blinked, adjusting to the involuntary change, and he was gone- his sweeping robes disappearing through a door on the far wall as Professor McGonagall came in with the first years.
Hermione only felt slightly guilty that she paid no attention to the Sorting, staring at the door Snape had left through and hoping in some vain attempt to see Harry come in through it. Until the Sorting Hat called Slytherin and the entire Great Hall seemed to pause their lazy attention and idle conversations to look at the trembling boy on the stool. Sterling, she thought was the name. Ira Sterling. He reminded her much of eleven year old Harry, in looks and countenance. She briefly wondered if his life was similar.
He was a scrawny thing, but not in the sickly sort of way Harry had been- or found himself being again at the end of each summer with the Dursleys. He had dark hair that was neither tame nor wild. The first Slytherin since Voldemort's very public appearance. He was shaking, terrified, not being able to move as everyone stared accusingly.
"Stay here," Hermione told Evie, standing up and walking towards the stool where Professor McGonagall didn't seem to know what to do- having already removed the Sorting Hat.
He looked up at her when she approached with wide, violet eyes. He flinched when she lightly touched his arm, but climbed down from stool and she began leading him to the Slytherin table- whispers following them.
"I was supposed to be in Hufflepuff," she heard him mutter to himself, looking back longingly at the girl who was just now being sorted into his preferred House.
She smiled, what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Slytherin is lucky to have you," she told him. And Professor Snape is an honorable man. You'll be okay. Besides, you'll look better in green than you would in yellow. Very few look right in yellow."
It made no visible change in him, and he still hunched in on himself to make himself smaller. "Da's going to kill me," he said in little more than a whisper.
"He'd have to go through me first," she promised offhandedly, not sure why this stranger reminded her of Evie. She added in a whisper, "And I happen to be friends with Harry Potter."
It brought forth the smile she'd wanted, if a bit hesitant. "I'm Ira Sterling."
"Hermione Granger."
They reached the Slytherin table and she brought him to Malfoy, though she was unsure why particularly other than the fact that she didn't know many Slytherins. He was a Death Eater. After further consideration, she'd accepted this as true. Despite what Ron and Harry thought, though, she didn't think he was evil. He was a prat, sure. Prejudiced? Absolutely. Did she often just want to punch him upon looking at him? Yes, yes she did. But a murderer? Definitely not.
"Malfoy," she said as politely as she could muster. She could tell he was surprised and trying not to appear so. "This is Ira Sterling. Keep an eye on him?"
Most of the Hall's attention was turned back to the Sorting, but Malfoy made brief eye contact with her and gave a curt nod- without so much as a sneer.
Hermione returned to her seat as the last student was sorted to Ravenclaw and the feast began. Evie was predictably "so hungry I could eat a elephant" and Hermione was helping to make her plate, while correcting her grammar, when Harry finally came into the Great Hall- his face predictably bloody. Professor Snape was back as well, looking at her again with an expression she could place, but it gave her chills.
Harry wouldn't tell them what had happened to his face, but he seemed embarrassed enough in his refusal that she felt safe to assume it had to do with Malfoy. She felt bad for not blaming the Slytherin, knowing Harry had gone to spy.
Dumbledore stood to give his usual speech, and this time Hermione didn't seem to be the only one looking curiously at his blackened, shriveled hand, as before he seemed to wave the worries off. "Nothing to worry about," he told them airily. "Now... to our new students, welcome. To our old students, welcome back! Another year of magical education awaits you..."
"What's wrong with Professor Dumbledore's hand?" Evie asked, watching the headmaster with wide, worried eyes. "It looks dead."
"It's nothing," Hermione whispered, even more determined to find out. "Keep your voice down."
"We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff," Dumbledore went on. "Professor Slughorn is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."
"Potions?"
"Potions?"
The word echoed through the Hall as people wondered whether they heard right- Ron and Harry among them.
"Professor Snape, meanwhile, will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."
"No!" Harry said, so loudly that many heads turned to him and Professor McGonagall sent a disapproving look down the Gryffindor table.
"Harry," Ron said, "You told us that Slughorn was going to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"I thought he was," Harry cut off, staring angrily at Evie and Hermione who seemed to be the only ones clapping aside from the Slytherin table. He snapped at Evie- who was closest to him. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"
She stopped immediately, giving him a startled look. "I like Professor Snape."
"You can't like Snape!"
Evie flinched and Hermione laid a hand on her shoulder, glaring daggers at her friend. "she can like whomever she damn well pleases, and don't ever talk to her like that again."
"Well there's one good thing," Harry said darkly, moving back to the original topic. "Snape'll be gone by the end of the year."
"What do you mean," Ron asked, looking uneasy at where the conversation had gone.
Harry nodded to where Snape was sitting. "The job's jinxed. No one's lasted more than a year... Quirrell actually died doing it... Personally, I'm going to keep my fingers crossed for another death..."
"Harry!" Hermione said, shocked and startled.
"I don't want Professor Snape to die," Evie said in a small voice.
Hermione looked up at Harry sharply, her lips forming the silent words 'I'm going to kill you', before trying to reassure her sister. "Nothing's going to happen to Professor Snape, Evie. He's too smart."
"Are you saying Remus wasn't smart," Harry challenged.
"Those were extenuating circumstances, Harry, and you know it."
Ron reached over and ruffled Evie's hair, using his own name for her, "He's too mean to die, Eves. He'll outlive us all out of spite. Likely he'll just go back to Potions after this year."
Hermione smiled thankfully to him, fixing Evie's hair where he'd mussed it. Dumbledore cleared his throat to silence the Hall's buzz of conversation, but said nothing more about the staff. Instead, he called attention to a matter Hermione had no idea he would address- and to be honest, she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Or more, how she felt about him not telling her ahead of time.
"Now, as some of you may have already discovered, we have a future student joining us this year. Because of unfortunate events this summer, Miss Evangeline will be attending classes with her sister, Hermione Granger, until such a time Miss Granger is no longer attending this school. I ask you all to be careful and courteous, but let me assure you. There will be no mercy to any that lay harm to her."
Once Dumbledore's end of feast speech was over, everyone began to file out to go to their dorms. She could hear Prefects calling for their first year, but she and the very tired Evie stayed behind until they heard Professor McGonagall calling for them to follow her. She led them towards the Gryffindor Tower, taking a different corridor just before getting there. They stopped outside a portrait that Hermione recognized.
"Sir Cadogen," she greeted him cautiously, "What are you doing so far from the North Tower?"
The portrait swiped his sword and gave a haughty laugh that unpleasantly reminded her of Gilderoy Lockhart. "I am to be your protector, madame! You may sleep well knowing that I shall let no one in to harm you. No one shall get past me. No one-" he caught sight of Evie, who was looking at him in awe, and he bowed deeply to her. "My lady!"
Evie giggled, which Professor McGonagall smiled fondly at before clearing her throat to get the portrait's attention. He straightened, ready for his command.
"Now there will no changing of passwords," she said sternly. "And you will not admit anyone without consent from the eldest Miss Granger first. Am I understood?"
"I would never!" He exclaimed, seemingly scandalized at he thought. She gave him hard expression, likely to remind him that he had before- earning him his reputation and the tendency of being avoided for such jobs.
Sir Cadogen sniffed, "I admit, I have made mistakes in the past, madam, but never again! I shall defend these ladies to the death! I will maim anyone who dares attempt them harm. I shall-"
"Yes, yes," Professor McGonagall said somewhat impatiently. "That will do. Now, Miss Granger, the password?"
Hermione opened her mouth to answer when Evie said suddenly and with more enthusiasm than she seemed awake enough to give, "Hopscotch!"
Everyone looked to her and Hermione smiled, looking back to her Head of House. "Hopscotch it is, then."
At least Evie would remember it. Professor McGonagall followed them into their new sitting room- decorated in pale green and gold with love seat and an armchair in front a freshly lit fireplace. On the far wall, at an inordinately large window, was a desk- and on either wall were doors.
"I can do something about the color," McGonagall offered, looking around appreciatively, "if you wish."
"No, I like it. What do you think, Evie? Evie?" Hermione glanced over from her looking around the small sitting room. Evie was laying on the armchair, her eyelids drooping. "I'd better put her to bed."
"Oh," Professor McGonagall tittered, covering Evie with a blanket from the back of the love seat. "Let her sleep. You never know if you'd be disrupting a beautiful dream. Now, will there be anything else?"
Hermione's smiled at her sister's sleeping form before looking back at her favorite teacher. "Only my thanks. Really. Thank you, professor, and the headmaster as well."
Professor McGonagall stepped closer and laid a gentle hand on her cheek. "Oh, my girl. What a mess you've been trapped in the middle of. I'm afraid it's likely to get worse before it's better. But you'll be strong. I know you will."
She turned back to leave. "Good night, professor."
"Goodnight, Hermione."
With McGonagall gone and Evie sleeping, Hermione let herself relax and breathe. It seemed the only time she didn't feel like she had to be someone else was when she was alone. Or writing No One, but saying that seemed ridiculous. They'd only exchanged a few letters, but in her mind he was as close a confidante she'd ever had. She wondered if he'd read letter yet, or if he'd reply.
Deciding that wasn't the best train of thought, Hermione went to explore their rooms. From what she could tell, the windows over looked the Forbidden Forrest and the path to the front gates, but it was too dark to tell for certain. The first door Hermione opened was obviously the room meant for Evie with its pale pink and gold, her sister's things already unpacked and put away. Her own room was in pale blue and gold, and slight bigger than Evie's with an owl on her bed.
"Hello," Hermione said cautiously, slowly approaching the owl she'd never seen before. She knew she would have remembered such a magnificent bird- it's wings a shiny black that almost had a blueish purple tinge.
When she got closer, the owl merely offered his leg where there was a letter tied- all the while his eyes studied her with a spark of intelligence she'd never seen in another bird aside from perhaps Hedwig. She immediately recognized the writing and untied the letter from No One- this time with a blue ribbon. She couldn't help but grin as she unfolded it and pace as she read.
No One,
I am very aware that you will discover who I am. It is another thing I agonized about before I wrote you. When you do, I would like you to tell me and to not hide it. Actually, I imagine that I shall know immediately. I can imagine you confronting me, unable to stop yourself in your- shall we say shock? I only ask that you don't bring it to someone else. That would cause more questions and trouble than I have the time or inclination for.
My hints leave something to be desired, do they? I never claimed to be a master hint giver. And aren't you supposed to be the brightest witch of the age? I'm not going to do your work for you, Granger. That's bad form.
I grew up in a mill town called Cokesworth, a few hours from Leicester. It's a vile place, even after the mill was closed, and I truly hope you never have the displeasure of visiting. In the winter months it is colder than the ninth circle of Hell, stinks to high heaven in the summer, and is generally unpleasant in between. I have no good answer for why I still live there. My father was a Muggle, perhaps the worst sort, and I have no inkling of why my mother put up with him. Especially as a pureblood whose family deserted her after she married him.
When I came to Hogwarts, it became my home and sanctuary, as I know it has for countless others. At first I thought I couldn't be happier, but children are cruel. Jealous boys even crueler.
My favorite color is red, though anyone else I would lie to and say green. I despise porridge, and truthfully most breakfast foods, but I occasionally enjoy a souffle. My favorite food would probably be custard. I have something of a sweet tooth, you see.
How are you and Evie getting settled? Are you looking forward to classes? It was noble of you- helping the first year Slytherin. I'm sure you've just become his hero. As I hear, he was quite shaken up. How does Evie like Hogwarts? Are you remembering to breathe? In through the nose, Granger, and out through the mouth. You can do this.
-No One
Hermione found herself grinning at the letter, holding it to her chest. She felt a sort of lump in her throat and a sunrise in her heart. Hermione's eyes flashed open where they'd closed and her face fell as she scowled.
"Oh no," she scolded herself, refolding the letter. "We are not doing this. You shut down those feelings right now."
But as she fell asleep on the sofa across from her sister all she could think was, the sunrise felt like love.
A/N: Sooo, sorry it's been so long since I updated anything. I have been in the process of getting a new computer.. and now that I've got it I'm not sure I don't prefer my old one. Please let me know what you think of it. I am really enjoying writing it. We're getting into the story more. And there's more Evie! There will definitely be more of her to come, but there will be chapters where she's there a lot, and others where she isn't. I love Ron's little nickname for her.
I think within the next three chapters she will figure it out. It's likely to be sooner- in the next chapter maybe- but I'm giving myself a wide berth in case the story goes a different direction that I didn't intend. Let me know any requests or ideas. Constructive critism and kudos are always welcome.
Dasvidanya, Mia