"My name does spell Death, yes." I said calmly, not betraying my inner panic. She'd worked me out already, and I'd been here but a week.
"No, I mean you're Death, the Grim Reaper. You don't have to hide any more. I know what you are." she said, her voice trembling a little; she was horribly afraid she'd made a terrible mistake.
"How did you work it out?" I asked, eyeing her.
She sat up a little and took a breath.
"Well, when I asked you about the learning curriculum when we met, you told me you'd learnt non-verbal magic in your fifth year. Durmstrang doesn't teach non-verbal until seventh year, no matter how advanced the students are. I asked Viktor about it and he told me it was impossible, and that he'd never heard of you, and he knew everyone. Then there's the fact that I heard Luna call you Death, of course, with it being Luna, I dismissed it, but you knew everything I was going to say, before I even knew I was thinking it. Not even a clairvoyant would be that good. You also seem to know far too much about all the House Ghosts, and speak to them as if you know them. I did some research and realised the only one who would know so much about them, especially such personal things, is Death."
I smiled at her. She really was smart.
"You're good." I said. "I thought you'd figure me out sooner or later."
"So. . .You really are Death?"
I chuckled. Humans. They say they have things all worked out about you, you admit it and they still want proof. Very well then. If it was proof she wanted, proof she would have. I dropped the disguise, revealing myself as the Grim Reaper the human race saw me as and she gasped and shrank back a little.
I simply stared at her, unmoving while she got over her fear.
"I'm not going to hurt you Hermione." I said.
"W-why are you here?"
"I can't tell you that right now. All I will say right now, is that I really am your friend. Yours, Harry's and Ron's."
Her wide eyes took in my skeletal appearance, and not for the first time, I cursed the mortals who had started this all off. I only appeared as a hooded skeleton with a scythe because mortals believed that was how I looked. Centuries ago, they believed I was a God. That's mortals for you, changing their minds all the time.
"I promise." I said softly, reverting back to the form of Dean. She nodded and let out a shaky sigh.
"This is all so. . ."
"You're telling me."
"I think I need to lie down. . ." she said, sounding faint. I nodded as she stood up, took a few steps towards the girl's dormitory and collapsed.
"Damnit!" I cursed, running over and lifting her into my arms. I started walking up the girl's staircase when I sensed the stairs changing into a slide, and Hermione and I slid down them. I forgot the stairs would not allow a boy up them. Very well. I wouldn't be a boy. I transformed again, and, holding Hermione's limp form in my arms, walked up the stairs, which now allowed me access. As the Grim Reaper I was neither male nor female, I simply was. I just sounded male. I actually had no gender, I was simply more comfortable appearing in male form to humans. I walked into her dormitory to where the other girls were sleeping soundly, Lavender making little whimpering noises in her sleep. Using a small piece of magic, I moved Hermione's bedclothes back as I approached. Placing Hermione into her bed and covering her up, I gazed down at her. She had so much heartache and sorrow coming her way, but she would survive. She had Harry and Ron, and now me. I intended to be there with them all the way until Tom Riddle was dead in front of me. His soul would be mine.
The next morning, Hermione came downstairs to where I was sat by the fire and sat next to me.
"I. . .sorry about last night. I've never fainted like that before."
"It's alright. Your brain overloaded with information. I gave you too much to take in at once. I apologise." I replied, smiling at her.
She gave a weak smile in return, then looked up as Harry and Ron came downstairs.
"I'm telling you Harry, I don't want to! I'm rubbish!" Ron moaned, slumping into a chair.
"Rubbish at what?" I asked, wondering what on earth he was complaining about now.
"The Quidditch match today. I'm rubbish, I don't know what I was thinking trying out!"
"Ron, you got the part didn't you? You're going to be fine!" Hermione said, shaking her head. "You have nothing to worry about!"
"Easy for you to say! You haven't got to face a load of people on brooms throwing balls at you!" he exclaimed, putting his head in his hands.
"Let's just go. . .get some breakfast." I suggested, getting my tongue around the words. I hadn't eaten in centuries, had no reason to. Still, food was something to enjoy every now and then.
Ron nodded, standing and pulling his Quidditch top straight and walking out, followed by Harry. Hermione stayed behind a moment to look at me.
"What you said last night. It was real, right? You're really. . .?"
I nodded and she simply nodded back and left. I smiled to myself and followed her to the Great Hall, where everyone was sat eating. The Slytherins booed loudly when Ron walked in and began singing a song that seemed to be something along the lines of 'Weasley is our King.' I had no idea why they'd sing it, as Ron was a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin. However, as I listened, I soon understood the meaning behind their cruel song. Weasley cannot save a thing, hm? We would see about that.
I watched as Ron ate little food, certainly not acting like the human garbage can he usually was. As he looked away for a moment, I saw Harry tip his hand over Ron's drink, almost as though he was putting something into it.
"Is that a tonic?" Luna asked, appearing suddenly out nowhere and peering at Ron's drink.
Ron whipped round and stared at Harry.
"Did you put Felix in my juice?" he asked hoarsely. Hermione looked horrified.
"You can't do that Harry! It's cheating!"
"Never mind that, I can't lose!" Ron said, cheering immediately and walking out. Hermione stared at Harry in disbelief. Harry simply grinned and followed Ron.
Hermione looked at me.
"Did you see what he just did?" she asked incredulously.
I shook my head silently and followed her to the Quidditch Pitch, watching as Ron proceeded to save every single shot that was fired towards him, much to the crowd's delight, except, I noticed, the Slytherins. No surprise there, then.
After the match, Hermione and I met up with Ron and Harry in the changing rooms.
"That was wicked!" Ron grinned, ecstatic at Gryffindor's victory.
"You only won because you cheated." Hermione said sternly.
"No we didn't." Harry grinned, pulling out a full vial of Felix Felicis. I never understood why humans wanted to make themselves lucky.
"I. . .I did it by myself?" Ron gaped.
Suddenly, he rounded on Hermione.
"That's cheating, is it? I can play perfectly well by myself!"
Hermione ran off in tears and I stared at him.
"Make your mind up, Ron. Just this morning you were convinced you were rubbish, and now you can play perfectly well by yourself? Don't take it out on her, just because she disagreed with something she thought Harry did. She was right anyway, if Harry had put Felix Felicis in your drink and giving you luck, the game would have been forfeit."
I walked out, leaving a stunned Harry and Ron in my wake. I had no idea why I'd defended Hermione like that, I didn't normally get involved with mortals as a rule, as I sometimes found myself getting emotionally attached, then missing them when they inevitably died. I couldn't afford to let myself form any emotional attachments. . .not this time. Not when Harry Potter had such a huge destiny ahead of him.