This is how Harry finds himself roaming outside the History teacher's classroom late at night.
One thing that hasn't wavered with the obsession is Hermione's likelihood to abide by rules. One thing which has been sharpened by her delusion is her grasp on how to use others to her advantage.
She knew that Harry had been somewhat bored for the whole of December and that he needs something extra to do so this side quest is the perfect way to get more information, help Harry be not bored and not technically be breaking any rules herself.
Still not keen at being caught wandering around after curfew Harry shields himself with all the spells he can think of. There's no point being caught by Filch's cat if he doesn't have to be- he wondered if the cat was magic sometimes with how often it seemed to turn up when he was wandering.
To be fair he isn't moving so much tonight as spying- maybe that would make his luck improve.
Harry sits beside the door to Professor Tim's office, standing every few minutes to stretch his legs. It's beyond boring. He's already counted all the flagstones in the corridor, poked at half of the stones in the walls to see if any are secret passages (no such luck yet) and made stupid noises just to check his shields are still working.
It's eleven at night when his eyelids start to droop and he thinks about leaving more earnestly.
Auntie Rowena would possibly be vaguely concerned if he didn't turn up when expected and his bed is calling him- he can almost hear it whispering through the ancient walls of Hogwarts.
Come to me Harry- come to me...
He stands and stretches again, looking at his watch for the third time in the last forty seconds. The boy sighs, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.
Hermione didn't expect him to stay all night, did she?
Come to me...
The bed calls out.
Harry is just about to take the first step of walking away with nothing to report when there's a crack which splits the silence. The boy falls over and screams in shock, breathing heavily as a man in a turban straightens out his robes.
Apparently his charms are holding.
Quirrel knocks at the door to the History teacher's office, one hand on his wand.
Harry collects himself from the floor extremely glad that his spells worked as planned because a) it ensured he hasn't been caught snooping yet and b) his reaction is so embarrassing he would hate for anyone to have seen it.
Tim opens the door and Harry notices that the Professor looks extremely healthy- oddly so for someone who he has never seen outside and never seen in the Great Hall.
"Tim." Says Quirrel, head held high. He doesn't stutter or slouch. Harry wonders if he's taking whatever the History teacher is too.
Tim seems confused.
"You are a teacher." He says briefly, staring at the other as if he had never seen his fellow staff member, "Why are you here? I teach students." The man states, eyes focused intently on the other man. Quirrel raises an eyebrow.
"I am a Professor and I sincerely doubt your capabilities to be one right now. I do wonder why Dumbledore didn't hire me so long ago considering his choice of you however I suppose anyone is better than the ghost who used to run the show." The more cognitive Professor says, "Regardless I am here to warn you that if you do not desist in converting followers to your cause and release those who you have brainwashed I will invoke my powers as a Hogwarts Professor to have you thrown out of here. Rest assured I will show no mercy in using any means I can to rid myself of your destructive influence. I am a man of little patience and I will not deal with incompetency due to your failure when I take over Wizarding Britain."
Tim opens his mouth, stretches out his tongue much further than should actually be possible and- despite Quirrel shouting a particularly nasty looking spell right at the man- thing- knocks the Defence Professor to the floor.
The man gets up instantly, firing off a bright green curse which fizzles out on Tim's face. He pats it curiously and Quirrel pales significantly.
"Not again- not again! It can't be- it can't happen again!" He shouts before firing another green bolt. And another. And another. Each hits their target but has no effect other than confusion.
Harry watches, almost unsure about which man- and he was seriously doubting that Tim's a human- is more terrifying.
What even was he? He's never heard of any monster that can control minds and has the world's longest tongue.
Honestly he should be running now.
He should.
Why wasn't he already running?
The boy stares as the Defence Professor and the weird man who cannot be human fight.
Why isn't he running?
Professor Quirrel falls and his head makes an odd shrieking noise which Harry presumes he hallucinates as he runs as fast as he can back to the Gryffindor Common Room where Hermione is waiting for him semi-crazed.
"What happened? Am I right?" She asks quietly, shutting the book on her lap with a snap.
"Quirrel's dead- I think Tim might be Voldemort- he found out and now Quirrel's dead and I'msosorryI'llneverdisbelieveyouagainHermione!" The boy says between breaths, lungs stinging as his legs finally give out.
Hermione just nods more calmly than ever before. She stands from the plush red and gold couch, still in nightgown, wand already in hand.
She looks out of the window to where a storm is mysteriously brewing. Her eyes are sharp yet seem clouded over by past memories.
In the distance thunder goes off.
"Then tonight we lead the rebellion." She says solemnly.
Harry will never doubt Hermione ever again.
Far from Hogwarts on a desolate stretch of shoreline also plagued by foul weather a man in a smart suit and black tie appears.
He stares out at the raging waters which seem to climb into the sky only to fall back down as the pelting rain to drive into the soft earth of the clifftop he's standing on.
Despite the weather he wears his sunglasses, purple eyes unseen behind them. Otherwise he is dressed rather well for the weather, his long trench-coat and fedora giving the idea of protection from the rain even though his power is enough to stop it from even dampening his clothes.
As if he detects the soul of Tom Riddle being cast into the aether again he smirks.
"I am Unknown to you Tom Riddle- Rapture Unknown- and I will end you." He declares to the wind.
"So will we." Say the group behind him as one, aligning themselves with him.
"Because even if I am Unidentified." The one with eyes the same colour as the sea when it's calm says.
"Even if your methods are more Obscure than me." Follows the figure enshrouded by the sea mist.
"And even if our efforts will remain Undisclosed." Says the woman, purple stilettos not making an indent even in the soft mud.
"We will crush something as pathetic as you." They say together.
Then they are in the cave beneath their feet and Rapture breaks through all the defences which had been protecting a tiny alcove right in the corner with a snap of his fingers.
The lake heaves with pale, bloated bodies yet them seem to swarm away from the group.
The trenchcoated man plucks a goblet with a badger on it from the hole and crushes it with his bare fists.
"I bet you didn't think anyone would look for a Horcrux behind the first most obvious one Tom Riddle." He says to the screaming piece of soul as it is extinguished.
The group disappear and moments later the whole cavern collapses with only the glint of a priceless relic, destroyed beyond recognition, buried in the remains of one of largest and most unpredictable landslides in Britain's history.