The Hidden Door

Hermione and Draco were sitting in the window seat of their nook, talking quietly about nothing in particular, sometimes making up new insults just to have something to say.

The school year was almost over. Harry Potter was lying unconscious in the hospital wing, but Madam Pomfrey and Headmaster Dumbledore had both announced that they expected him to awaken within hours and make a full recovery in a day or so. Hermione and Ron had agreed that they'd see him today even if they had to use Harry's invisibility cloak.

Gryffindor had lost the last Quidditch match of the season to Ravenclaw. Their substitute Seeker hadn't even seen the Golden Snitch before the Ravenclaw Seeker had captured it. With the loss of the game, Slytherin was certain to win the House Cup.

They talked about their plans for the summer. Since both Draco's and Hermione's parents would be in London to pick them up from the Hogwarts Express, and Draco's parents rarely came to London without spending at least a few days (and sometimes several weeks), they figured they could probably meet on the sly the very next day. An unobtrusive gate just three blocks from Malfoy House opened on a quiet side street in Muggle London. Hermione had asked her parents to stay in a hotel in that same neighborhood. She hadn't told them why, but was on fire to introduce Draco to them.

Draco had no intention of reciprocating by introducing Hermione to his parents—not until he knew more about their mood and plans. As always, he mentioned only his father, as if his mother did not exist. Hermione had learned better than to ask about such things. He tended to become either angry or sad when his family was mentioned unless he raised the topic himself. He'd tell her when he was ready.

Somehow they got onto the subject of fairy tales and discovered that neither had ever heard the other's favorites. Hermione was just launching into The Three Billy Goats Gruff when she looked up and saw Professor Dumbledore smiling down at them.

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy," he said. As they started to rise, he added, "Please, remain seated."

They gazed at him in silence, embarrassed. Hermione was painfully aware that she was holding Draco's hand.

"Have you ever wondered," asked Dumbledore pleasantly, "why so few people venture into this part of the library, and even fewer seem able to see you?"

"I have, actually," said Hermione, relaxing.

"Around two hundred years ago, a fire damaged this section of the library. It was a small fire and destroyed only a few books, but the area needed remodeling. A powerful, wealthy, and rather subtle witch named Esmeralda Valentine took charge and added some characteristic touches.

"I've always felt that this window seat is her masterpiece. Only a young person in love finds spending time here pleasant. And two people cannot share the window seat unless they are in love with each other. To anyone else, the seat is uncomfortable. When the seat was more widely known, people would sit here on a dare. The record stands at five seconds.

"But the most important feature is that, once accepted, a person can return here. Then memories and feelings from their earlier visits are as clear as if they happened only yesterday.

"From time to time you may see an older person sitting here, quite alone. I suggest you give them their privacy. On the other hand, people for whom the window seat is not appropriate rarely venture into this part of the library at all."

"Professor Snape saw us here," said Draco.

"Yes, and he asked me to keep an eye on you two. He feels your path will not be easy, and I must say I agree with him."

"Who did he love?" asked Hermione.

"Alas, Miss Granger, that is not my secret to tell. But I will tell you this, though perhaps I shouldn't, because it will help you understand. When he was a boy at Hogwarts, Severus Snape found this nook and sat here many times. But he always sat alone. The great love of his life did not love him back, and eventually she loved and married another. She is dead now. Severus returns here from time to time, and remembers."

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. Not so much for Snape, because she couldn't imagine Snape as a boy, let alone as a boy in love. But somehow her imagination gave her a clear image of the mischievous, sensitive boy Albus Dumbledore had been, and she felt the pain of the love he had lost so long ago.

"Yes, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore in his slow, unhurried voice. "I, too, was once a student who sat here with my beloved. We were very young, though not so young as you, and like you and Mr. Malfoy, we got the top marks in all our classes. His name was Archie. (Don't look so startled, Mr. Malfoy! Ask Miss Granger to explain it to you later.)

"He had the most amazing way with animals, especially dragons. He could calm up to three at once using only his voice. He had the most wonderful voice. In the summer after our sixth year, he was doing field work. He encountered five dragons unexpectedly and was killed. It was just as simple and pointless as that. He is forgotten now; it has been nearly a century. But sometimes I sit here and remember my first and best love, and it's as if no time has passed at all."

Hermione was weeping. Draco had an arm around her. He looked up at Dumbledore and asked, "Can you help us, sir?"

"A little, Mr. Malfoy. A little. Come along, both of you. I have something to show you." He turned and walked off. They followed, Hermione weeping silently into her handkerchief.

A short distance away was a row of doors. Most had bronze plaques marked "PRIVATE." The others bore names that Hermione did not recognize.

Dumbledore touched the lock of of a door marked "PRIVATE" with his wand and the door swung open. Candles lit inside, revealing a study room with a desk, two chairs, and a bookcase. Dumbledore looked it over briefly and said, "This will do nicely." He tapped the bronze plaque on the door with his wand. The letters squirmed, and then the plaque read, "H. GRANGER." He pulled a key out of his robe, touched it to his wand, and handed it to Hermione.

"And now you, Mr. Malfoy." He had Hermione lock her study room and led them down several short corridors to another row of study rooms. Soon Draco had a key of his own and a room marked, "D. MALFOY."

Inside Malfoy's room, Dumbledore said, "Touch your key to the back wall. Anywhere will do." Draco did so, and a blank patch of wall suddenly showed an outline the size of a low, narrow door. Draco put has palm against it and pressed, and the concealed door swung open. On the other side was Hermione's study room.

Draco asked, "What kind of spell connects these rooms?"

"No spell," said Dumbledore, "Geometry. The rooms are back to back, but it's hard to realize this because the two corridors connect by a roundabout path. Professor Valentine's work, of course."

Dumbledore continued, "These rooms have been the scene of secret diplomacy and surreptitious collaboration many times over the years. And a great deal of ordinary scholarship. Professor Valentine, though sentimental, was a true scholar. Most room assignments are to students, visiting professors, and other scholars who have no idea that the hidden doors exist, and whose keys will not reveal them.

"By the way, these rooms are assigned for life. Sometimes they are assigned to students who achieve unusually high exam scores, which, I tell you in confidence, includes both of you."

"If you two were older, I would admonish you not to use these study rooms as places of revelry. But I will save that lecture for another time.

"And now, my young friends, is there anything else I can do for you?"

Draco asked, "Is there any hope for us, sir?"

"Yes, my boy, there is always hope. Your path was never going to be easy. It will not be easy now. But you may find a better destination and a more bearable journey.

"Let me offer you some personal advice: Love is powerful, with a magic all its own. In addition, when properly applied, incompetence and procrastination are also powerful, sometimes almost as powerful as love. Resist the temptation to rush to your doom. If Romeo had been unable to uncork his bottle of poison, if his dagger had been dull, both he and Juliet would have survived. When doing something foolish or wrong, always apply as much delay and incompetence as you dare. Miss Granger may find this technique difficult. As a Gryffindor, she has a troublesome streak of directness. It took me many years to overcome mine. Teach her as best you can."

"I will, sir," said Draco with a slight smile.

Hermione asked, "Are we under some kind of love spell? There must have been one at first."

"I'm sure you are right, Miss Granger. Love magic never creates love, of course, only obsession. But anything that causes two people to really notice each other can lead to love, if they are the right two people.

"The window seat cannot be fooled by love magic. The experiment has been tried many times. Professor Valentine had no patience with imitation love. You can be confident that your love is both real and precious."

Hermione asked, "Who could have done it?"

"If neither of you were involved in the magic (and I see from your faces that you were not), I would guess that it was the Siberian love potion. Perhaps administered as a practical joke. As for who, I can't seem to think of any practical jokers who have both the unwisdom to try and the skill to succeed."

Hermione breathed, "The Weasley twins."

"Quite possibly. Mr. Malfoy, I want you to understand that I have taken you under my wing on your own merits, not simply because Miss Granger loves you, ample testimonial though that is. You can always call on me for assistance. As can you, Miss Granger."

He smiled at them again and said, "Farewell for now, my young friends. I believe I will visit the window seat. It has been quite a while. Archie has been very patient."

He departed, closing the door behind him. Draco stood like a statue until Hermione asked, "What's wrong?"

In a dull voice, Draco said, "Is he trying to bribe me? To set me against my father?"

"Why would he do that?"

"My father hates him. Says he's the worst headmaster in Hogwarts history."

"But … wait, that can't be right, can it? You're here! Your father sent the last of the Malfoys to Hogwarts! He knew Dumbledore was headmaster. Your father's friends send their children here, too. So it can't be that bad. Think logically, Malfoy! It can't be a real feud at all. It has to be more like a rivalry. Or a tiff. Maybe just a snit."

He considered this. "So it's not a bribe when I'm given a study room with a secret passage to my girlfriend?"

"You called me your girlfriend!"

"My mistake. I meant to call you—" But he couldn't continue because she was kissing him.

A moment later, she said, "Issued for life, Malfoy. He said the rooms are issued for life."

"I heard. And Snape asked him to look after us," said Draco. "Not just me. Us."

"I heard that, too," said Hermione.

They considered this for a while. Finally, Draco said, "There's a lot about Hogwarts that we haven't been told; that we don't understand. Let's not rush into anything. We'll just keep doing what's expected of us and see what happens."

Hermione smiled at him, "Very scientific of you, Malfoy. And let's both make sure that the corks in our bottles of poison can't be removed and that our daggers are as dull as loaves of bread."

"I don't know, some of that flatbread has quite an edge."

"As dull as bowling balls, then. Or Goyle."

"Bowling balls. Agreed. Nothing's as dull as Goyle. Let's not ask for the impossible."

The last days of the term passed in a rush. Hermione and Ron waited in the hospital wing until Harry was awake, then fretted when Dumbledore made them wait some more while he talked to Harry first. But they got to see him at last, and spent much of the following day with him, too. He told them over and over what had happened with You-Know-Who, and what Dumbledore had told him.

Hermione found herself on the point of revealing her own secret several times. After all, if Dumbledore approved, it was all right, wasn't it? But she stopped herself each time. She was so happy today, almost giddy, that she might make any kind of foolish mistake. That wouldn't be fair to Draco.

Harry was released just in time to attend the end-of-year feast. He sat between Ron and Hermione. They kept grinning at each other, delighted to be together again.

Draco was sitting between Crabbe and Goyle at the Slytherin table. They were a bad influence on him, Hermione decided. He seemed more Crabbe-like and Goyle-like when he was with them. They didn't seem any more Malfoy-like. If Draco's father realized this, would he take steps to separate them? Now, there was a thought …

Professor Dumbledore awarded last-minute points to Gryffindor, including fifty points to Hermione, "for the use of cool logic in the face of fire." Hermione didn't feel cool and logical at all, but burst into tears. Being praised by Dumbledore in front of the whole school overwhelmed her. She buried her face in her arms.

The points awarded to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville meant that Gryffindor won the house cup! This came as a complete surprise to everyone. All the Gryffindors were jubilant and many went out of the way to praise and congratulate Hermione. She had never been very popular among the Gryffindors, and their sudden good feelings nearly overwhelmed her again.

Her heart went out to Draco. Slytherin's loss not only disappointed him personally, but it robbed him of a ray of sunshine to offer to his father. Worse, Gryffindor had won by just ten points. Had Draco not been penalized twenty points for sneaking out to see Norbert the baby dragon that night, Slytherin would have won. He'd find his lapse hard to explain.

Then the exam results were posted. She was so proud of Draco! He had done spectacularly well, matching the all-time record for first-year students, a record that had stood unchallenged for more than fifty years.

Hermione had done even better, just as Draco had predicted, besting Draco in every subject, even Potions, and setting a new record that everyone said would last forever. Hermione Granger would be remembered long after the previous record holder, Tom Riddle, was forgotten.

Draco's other prediction also came true: no first-year even came close to their performance. But that was all right. Harry, Ron, and Neville had all passed. All the Gryffindors had. Sadly, so had Crabbe and Goyle.

And then it was time to leave for the summer holidays. Hermione hardly got a glance at Draco on the little boats. She didn't see him at all on the Hogwarts Express or at the Kings Cross Station. It was just as well, because she was overflowing with happiness and didn't think she could treat him as coldly as she was supposed to.

At Kings Cross Station, she left the train with Harry and Ron. As they walked towards the gate, Ron delighted them by asking them to visit over the summer. She and Harry accepted at once. It was going to be the best summer ever.

And then she met Ron's mother and his little sister, Ginny. She liked them at once. Ron's family was delightful! This was followed immediately by the appearance of Harry's Uncle Vernon, looking angry. His wife and son trailed in his wake, looking frightened. Were they always that way around Uncle Vernon? That wasn't right! Poor Harry.

Soon after Harry and Ron and their families departed, Hermione caught sight of her own parents. She ran to them. They looked so proud! After hugs all around, all three of them began talking at once. Their confused, joyful, familiar babble lasted until they were all in the car.

Her father said, "We're booked into a hotel near the spot you mentioned. What's it all about?"

This completed Hermione's happiness. With luck, she'd see Draco tomorrow morning, just as they'd planned!

She knew Draco wouldn't approve, but she couldn't help herself. She took a deep breath and said earnestly, "Mum, dad, there's this boy …"

[Next: London (Chamber of Secrets)]