HERMIONE

Much to Hermione's irritation, Harry continued to use the textbook that had belonged to "the Half-Blood Prince" during Potions. She refused to use it with him, sticking faithfully to the official instructions in their textbooks, growing ever more vexed as he continued to produce phenomenal results.

It was unfair, that he was gaining points, good grades, and the teacher's favour from work that was not even his own — Hermione's only comfort was that he had not yet risen to the top, as the transfer student seemed to excel in magic. Percy's homework was hasty, essays dismal, but Hermione's respect for him grew for the sheer amount of power he seemed to have. He did seem to have trouble controlling it, however; often his magic burst out in inconsistently powerful bursts of spells. Sometimes he could not even cast a simple accio, while other times his Shield Charm was so strong that it acted as an offencive spell… he was a strange student, and often Hermione wondered just how different his old magic school had been.

Friday came in a blur of work and activity; as Hermione had predicted, their free periods did not allow for lazy rest and relaxation, but rather only gave them some time to get in more homework and practice. The times not filled with assigned work were dedicated to practising nonverbal spells; the use of them was expected, now, in most of her classes, and the spells were becoming increasingly difficult. Her morning was so busy that Hermione nearly missed the Daily Prophet article that was dropped off at breakfast.

She had been eating her waffles and eggs as quickly as possible so as to head to Ancient Runes early when Percy suddenly choked next to her.

"You good, mate?" asked Ron as he coughed.

"Yeah," he said once he had calmed down, trying to subtly sneak something beneath the table under their sight. Hermione assumed that it was a personal letter since the owls had just arrived; she resumed eating hurriedly, having too much on her mind anyway to think to ask.

Ron, however, had no such restrictions. "What've you got there?" he asked, pushing himself out of his seat a little to try and see Percy's side of the table.

"Nothing!" said Percy, a little too quickly in Hermione's opinion. "Just the morning newspaper. There's nothing… special…" He faltered as Hermione waved her wand absently and summoned the paper over to her. "Hey, give it!"

Hermione frowned, opening the Daily Prophet edition that was folded open to a page. She didn't see why Percy wanted to hide it, it was only an article announcing an escaped winged horse on the loose. Officials were watching out for it because it seemed to be a new species, and had caused damage in a small wizarding town near Hogwarts. Next to the article was a small image of what looked like a thestral, a black silhouette flying unusually low in the sky. She handed the paper back to Percy, bemused.

"Here, it's just an article about a winged horse. Nothing interesting, Harry," she added when he leaned over to try and see.

Percy nodded. "Yeah, just… it just looked interesting."

"Winged horses are fascinating, though," said Hermione, lighting up; all thoughts of hurrying to Ancient Runes forgotten, she began telling them about the different breeds that evolved over the years. "If they've discovered a new species, that is rather exciting, don't you think?" she finished enthusiastically, looking to the three boys, who were staring at her blankly.

"Sure, Hermione," said Ron.

After breakfast Hermione rushed off to Ancient Runes, checking her homework with Spellman's Syllabary for the umpteenth time along the way to make sure she had not missed a thing. "Distinction… tree sap… oh, Merlin, that's 'memory of nature,' not 'enmity of nature.' Merlin, stupid!"

Frantically, she grabbed her quill and ink from her bag. As she scratched out her previous answer and corrected it, accidentally blotting the page in the process, Hermione had never wished for Percy's old biro more. It was rather stupid, she told herself furiously, how they were required to use such old-fashioned writing systems. Muggle pens were so much faster and easier.

Having finally corrected her homework, Hermione picked up her things and stuffed them in her bag, setting off to the Ancient Runes classroom at an ever brisker pace.

When she passed the door leading up to the West Tower, she paused. There seemed to be someone talking, the noise faint and difficult to discern. Hermione lifted a hand to the doorknob, curious as to who would be talking in the owlery, but quickly shook her head and continued on, mentally berating herself for being tempted to stop for something so trivial.

Soon, however, Hermione found herself turning around and walking back to the door. She would be very quick, she told herself as she turned the handle forcefully and hurriedly made her way up the tightly spiraling staircase. She would have been very early to class anyway. Soon she found herself outside the owlery, listening to someone talk to someone else who did not seem to be responding. Almost like a mobile phone call, except that couldn't be right — the Hogwarts enchantments and wards made all muggle technology go haywire.

Hermione cast a Disillusionment charm on herself and slipped through the open door, starting at the sight that awaited her. Percy Jackson was there, his own grey-feathered owl perched on his shoulder happily, talking to what looked like the winged horse from the Daily Prophet.

Before registering what she was seeing, she took a quiet breath in to appreciate the beauty of the pegasus. His coat was a deep ebony black colour, as were his massive wings that were folded at his sides, and his back muscles rippled as he cantered back and forth, contentedly chewing on something Percy was feeding on him.

Then she blinked. Percy was talking to the pegasus.

" —besides, how'd you even fly to the UK? I mean, that's basically on the other side of the world!"

Yo, boss, got any donuts? Your girlfriend won't give me any while you're gone. It's tyranny.

"Don't change the subject, and no, I don't. Stop calling me boss."

The pegasus bobbed his head. Sure, boss.

Percy sighed. "Just — whatever. Why are you here again?"

The pegasus nickered. If she hadn't known better, Hermione would have sworn he was talking, responding to the question Percy had asked. Oh, right! Boss Number Two told me to check up on you and let you know that the gods say they have the Mist situation under control. But I don't think he really believes them, so he hasn't pulled you outta the quest yet.

"Really?" Percy frowned. "Chiron did? Why couldn't he just owl me?"

The owl on his shoulder hooted indignantly in agreement.

Dude, that owl of yours has a dirty mouth.

"Really?" he said again. "Wait, you can understand birds?"

The pegasus snorted. It's some lame nature-nature connection thingy.

"Okay, that's weird. So all the times you and Guido caught cardinals for sport —"

We don't need to talk about birdie profanities. Hermione thought the horse looked as close to nauseated as a horse could get.

"Okay. Oh, and tell Chiron I'm doing fine and I don't see why he had to send my pegasus halfway across the world just to check up on me." Percy shook his head.

The pegasus huffed. It was fun. I needed to stretch my legs some. I finished my flight so fresh that I coulda gone the other half of the world, too.

Percy rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say. You're egotistical, you know that?"

Am not.

"Are too."

Just then, the owl hooted loudly. It was far too powerful a sound for such a small feathered body, Hermione decided, almost affectionately. She quickly dismissed the thought when Percy spun around, apparently alerted to her presence. Her eyes widened, and she fled the owlery as quietly as possible, hoping that her Disillusionment charm would hold. The last thing she saw before hurrying down the steps was what could have been the flash of a sword, double-edged and shimmering bronze in the morning light.

All throughout Ancient Runes, Hermione was too busy pondering what she had seen to pay attention. She had never heard of wizards being able to talk to animals — perhaps only in an advanced Animagus form, although that was a controversial topic debated by many wizarding scientists. But Percy had clearly been himself, so perhaps he had some sort of special ability that he had trained.

It could have been something like Parseltongue, realised Hermione, perking up. She quickly dismissed the idea when she remembered that Percy had been speaking in English; she had understood fully what he was saying. She frowned and tapped her quill against the parchment. If she had time, she would have to do some research in the library over the weekend —

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione jumped, face burning. She had evidently missed some instruction. The professor was looking at her disapprovingly with a rather disappointed expression; it was rare that she, Hermione Granger, the top student in all her classes, zoned out.

"S — sorry," Hermione said. "C — could you repeat that?"

Professor Babbling sighed. "Your translation for line fifteen on the homework sheet, please."

"Erm —" Frantically, she ruffled through her papers. "That which is held sacred in the memory of nature has been scribed in starlight," she recited anxiously, sure that something had been mistranslated. If only she had kept checking her homework instead of investigating the West Tower… oh, she was never doing something like that again, what if she lost points on the homework — Hermione did some quick calculations in her head. As long as she got full marks on the next five assignments, she would still have an O in the class. She would, from then on, leave the idiotic snooping and spying to Harry…

"That is correct," said Professor Babbling. "Well done; that was a tricky passage. Class, make sure you did not confuse 'memory,' tengmys, with 'enmity,' tengmosi. The two are often confused because of the similar prefix, teng-, which is, as you all know, the suggestion of being long-lasting."

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Hermione made a quick mark on her paper to watch for the two words.

During Potions she could not help but eye Percy from behind her cauldron as they worked on the Confusion Concoction. She had taken to resolutely ignoring Harry when he referred to the Half-Blood Prince's textbook; it was after class was over that she hounded him on the dangers of taking the advice of strangers.

The rest of the day passed quickly; the amount of work piling on was becoming astronomical, and Hermione had no time to worry about Percy talking to a winged horse. He was a wizard, after all; if he had been a muggle, that would be a different matter.

Still, it had been strange, and she resolved to find time to talk to Harry and Ron about it.

As it turned out, Hermione had an opportunity to go to the library the next day; Harry and Percy were at their detention with Snape and she needed to research for an Ancient Runes essay due on Monday. As she made her way to the library, she was so engaged in mentally mapping out her essay that she did not notice the Divination professor standing in the hallway until she nearly ran straight into her.

"Oh — er, Professor Trelawney, sorry, I didn't —"

But Trelawney only stared at her as if in a trance, eyes glazed and magnified ten times over behind great, sparkling spectacles not unlike a less wildly coloured version of Luna's Spectrospecs. She raised a many-ringed finger tremulously, and Hermione realised that the professor seemed to not be staring at her but at a spot behind her, as if she were completely transparent.

"Erm..." Hermione shifted her books in her arms, slightly unnerved. "Professor?"

Trelawney did not appear to have heard her. With the hand not in the air she pulled her shawl around herself tighter, and her gaze remained fixed on some vague point in space. Hermione frowned; had her eyes always been such an emerald green? She dismissed the nagging feeling that they had been light brown before — she hadn't attended Divination in years, having categorised it as complete rubbish.

But the green smoke beginning to form around the professor in faint trails and snake-like curls was most definitely not normal, and Hermione backed away slowly.

Then Trelawney began to speak, and her voice was dissonant and multiplied as if many witches with the same voice were speaking simultaneously.

"Thought once gone and back once more,
The sorceress sister opens the door
She shall seek and strive to avenge her past
But fail, and fall to the looking-glass
A half-blood of the raging sea
To find allies in students three
But should he die then all shall fail
And people see beyond the veil."

The smoke dissipated, and Trelawney slumped forward heavily; Hermione caught her just in time. A moment passed and the professor seemed to remember where she was.

"Ah, Miss Granger, I see our paths have crossed once more… it was ordained in the stars, yes, I saw the sign — but what's this?" Trelawney said in a breathy, ethereal voice, grabbing Hermione's wrist and looking at her palm in apparent distress. "I see great misfortune, yes, a terrible fate, the stony grave…"

Hermione yanked her hand away, staring at the professor in shock, who looked vaguely offended. "Professor Trelawney — the prophecy you just told me — what does it mean? What half-blood? The veil — do you mean the veil in the Department of Mysteries? Which students — Professor? Professor!" she said urgently, but Trelawney was looking at her blankly through misty brown eyes.

"My dear, get some more rest; it seems that the deceiving nature of those born beneath the waxing moon has caught up to you. Well, I will be off," declared Trelawney and went on her way down the hall.

Hermione stood there for a moment longer before shaking her head and continuing on to the library, mind racing. All thoughts of Percy gone, she pushed open the great oak doors to the library and paced the bookshelves, pondering intensely what she had heard.

It was widely known (except for a select few such as Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil) that Trelawney was a fraud; she "predicted" nothing more than dramatic deaths and misfortunes, enjoying especially to suggest Harry's imminent demise. But there had been a time back in their third year, Hermione recalled, when she had issued what seemed to have been a real prophecy to Harry himself. She would have to ask him what it had been like.

But the lines — the lines were strange. The sorceress's sister… the raging sea… and what had the veil been? Was there any way anyone could see beyond the veil between life and death itself?

As Hermione walked slowly along the shelves and let her fingers trail across the faded letterings on the book bindings, she huffed. Harry's prophecy had been clear enough, and it most certainly had not rhymed.

Had it? She didn't remember.

She stopped at a thick book labeled Determining Divination and pulled it out, leafing through the crackling pages before tucking it under her arm.

And the half-blood — Hermione added a book on different blood statuses to her rapidly growing pile. Who was the half-blood? Surely not Harry, he had his hands full with You-Know-Who already… she shook her head; there had to be hundreds of other half-bloods in the school.

But the consequences of his death — then all shall fail. Hermione selected a worn copy of Ominous Omens and bit her lip. She needed to know what the veil was… Symbols of Prophecy, Immortal: Magical Life & Death, and Enchante were added to her stack. After pulling out a volume on Charmed Keys that smelt vaguely of cinnamon, Hermione staggered a little under the weight of the books. She made her way to a table to set them down, peering around the teetering pile of books in her arms to make sure she didn't run into anything.

Her morning was spent ruffling through the books anxiously, searching for some clue as to what any of the prophecy's lines had meant. Charmed Keys was rubbish; she tossed it aside soon after reading the author's enthusiastic opinion that every key and matching lock had a literal soul. So was Immortal: Magical Life & Death, and Ominous Omens… she ended up spending most of her time on Determining Divination, which detailed nicely common structures of prophecies and omens.

Some prophecies did have rhyme, though not in perfect couplets as Hermione's had been, and she furrowed her brow. There were no recorded examples of prophecies in such a structure; most were written like free verse poems, with oddly specific details and real names. She took notes on parchment as she read in small, neat script, sometimes copying down prophecies written in the book.

She flipped through the book on blood status next to the section on half-bloods. But it was all information she knew already, and she was about to give up on it when a line caught her eye:

"The term half-blood may refer to different things in different cultures; a half-blood in muggle context, for example, may be a person of mixed race or one of two siblings sharing only one parent."

Half-blood: refers to a non-wizarding term? Hermione jotted down, and tapped the feathered end of her quill against her cheek thoughtfully.

The ending is abrupt, I know — it's because this was originally combined with the next chapter, but I had to split them because it was just too long. As for the chapter, there are a few things I'd like to mention.

1. Percy's conversation with Blackjack: Obviously, Hermione can't understand what Blackjack is saying. I had written in his dialogue when I was writing this in order to help me with Percy's responses, but while editing I realized that it's pretty confusing without Blackjack's thoughts. So I left it in. It's probably a testament to my rather amateur writing ability that I couldn't quite make it work while sticking to only Percy's dialogue and responses, but oh well.

Besides, admit it. He's kind of hilarious, that pegasus :')

2. Hermione's Ancient Runes homework: Yes, I did my research on where Rowling got her one known Ancient Runes word. No, I did not bother researching Proto-Germanic for one line by Professor Babbling. Sorry about that, I usually try to pay better attention to detail :(

...And that's about it. Have a great day, everyone!

unfinished . nocturne