Chapter 14
Wandlore
Once again, Hermione found herself atop a hill in the middle of a vineyard. This time, however, the sun hung high in the sky, bathing her skin with its warmth and allowing her to see rows of vines stretching out in all directions. Distantly, she saw a building, sunshine glinting off its sheet metal roof and windows. Hermione scanned the land around her, but she did not spot the gigantic manifestation of her wand, just dirt and plants.
On the row of plants closest to Hermione, she saw a group of small animals climbing on the vines and wooden supports. At first, she thought they were some kind of rodent, but when she came closer, Hermione recognized them as bowtruckles. 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them', one of her school textbooks, had an entry on bowtruckles. Generally less than a foot tall, they were roughly humanoid, with two twig-like arms and legs extending from a thicker, cylindrical torso. That, coupled with brown, bark-like skin, gave them the appearance of living, animated pieces of wood.
Hermione leaned in to examine the bowtruckles. They crawled about the vines eating insects. Their thin arms ended in three sharp claws that helped them climb about. Hermione, who found them adorable, smiled at their scampering movements. She jumped in surprise when a loud crack rang out. It sounded like a gunshot, and Hermione bent low, looking about for an angry farmer with a shotgun.
Instead, she found a thin man with dirty-blonde hair standing on the hill where she had stood a minute before. He wore an ankle length brown duster, and the sun reflected off the lenses of his glasses. An unmoving dragon lay slumped on the ground beside the man seemingly asleep, or maybe dead. Hermione had the section on dragons in 'Fantastic Beasts' and she recognized the dragon before her as a Chinese Fireball by its crimson scales and distinctive fringe of golden spikes around its face. Larger than a horse, it was still smaller than Hermione would have expected.
As she began to recall the various facts she had memorized about Chinese Fireballs, the man beside the dragon waved his wand, causing the dragon to lift a foot off the ground. It floated along behind him as the man walked down the hill towards Hermione. She considered running but, not only did the man not seem to notice her, she recognized him.
"It's Mr Ollivander,!" Hermione thought with shock, "but he looks so young! Well… younger at least."
His steps were lively, and he looked less frail than he had when Hermione visited his shop, but quite a few of his hairs had turned gray and wrinkles lined his face. Hermione guessed he couldn't be a day younger than forty.
"Is this a dream?" Hermione wondered as Ollivander squatted down near her to inspect the bowtruckles.
He did not look at her or acknowledge her presence in any way. The dragon settled down onto the ground and Ollivander pointed his wand at a large bowtruckle.
"Immobulus!" he whispered.
The bowtruckle froze in place allowing Ollivander to reach out and, without resistance, pluck it from the vine. The rest of the wooden creatures scattered, hiding amidst the vines and leaves. The younger Ollivander put his wand away and pulled out a ruler.
He measured the trunk of the grapevines, then measured the bowtruckle and muttered, "Five and a half inches, just a bit too tall."
He placed the first bowtruckle under the vines and then pulled a handful of something and scattered it across the ground. The other bowtruckles came out of hiding, squeaking excitedly and eagerly feasting on what looked like wriggling grains of rice.
Ollivander used the freezing charm on another bowtruckle, measuring it and exclaiming, "Five and three eighths, perfect!"
He put the frozen little wooden creature into a jar, then turned his attention to the dragon. With a whispered word and a slash of his wand, Ollivander created a line of red light that cut deeply into the flesh on the dragon's chest.
The blood that spurted from the wound was a dark purple, almost black. Steam rose from the cut and the blood pouring out seemed to be boiling. The dragon let out a pitiful, growling sound so deep and powerful Hermione felt the ground shake slightly.
"It's still alive!" Hermione thought with surprise, recoiling from a bubbling pool of blood spreading across and soaking into the dirt near her feet.
Meanwhile, Ollivander had put his wand away and reached his arm deep into the dragon's wound. When he extracted his arm, the sleeve of his duster was stained black and his skin was covered in blisters, clearly burned by the superheated flesh and blood of the fire-breathing beast. The suffering dragon let out another deep note of pain, shifted as if to move, then lay still.
Ignoring the dying dragon, Ollivander used his wand to heal his hand and to clean his sleeve. As he did, Hermione noticed he clenched something in his fist. When he opened his hand, Hermione could see half a dozen whitish pink tendrils cupped in his palm. With his free hand, he pulled another empty jar from an inner pocket of his duster, placing the slimy strings inside. Finally, he filled the jar with fresh blood that still ran freely from the gash in the dragon's chest.
Moving quickly and efficiently, Ollivander retrieved the jar with the bowtruckle and sat down next to the trunk of the grapevines on which the bowtruckles had been climbing on. Gently, he said the tip of his wand vertically up the trunk. The wood parted, a two inch slit opening behind the path of his wand. He put aside his wand and pulled the bowtruckle from its jar. From the second jar he retrieved, what Hermione now guessed to be, a single dragon heartstring.
The bowtruckle had begun to move again, and it struggled as Ollivander began to force the heartstring into its small mouth. Hermione gasped audibly, but the wandmaker did not so much as glance in her direction. Instead, with a calm expression on his face, he continued to force the heartstrings down the bowtruckle's throat.
Horrified, Hermione rushed forward to stop him. She attempted to pull the creature from him, but her hands moved through Ollivander and the bowtruckle though she was made of vapor. She could do nothing as Ollivander took the bowtruckle and forced it into the opening he'd created in the wood of the trunk. Hermione shouted at him to stop but he did not seem to hear her as he finished the process, using his wand to restore the wood of the trunk to its original state, trapping the bowtruckle inside.
As Ollivander moved on to measure the next trunk in line, Hermione felt her body begin to rise off the ground and the world around her seemed to grow fuzzy. She continued to float upward as everything around her blurred.
A moment later, Hermione sat up, finding herself in a simple bed with crisp white sheets. Bright sunlight streamed in through the room's tall windows and Hermione saw a dozen other beds like her own.
"This must be the Hospital Wing," Hermione realized.
She wore an unfamiliar dressing gown and her body ached. Breathing in caused a shooting pain throughout her ribs and her right hand burned as she tried to open her closed fingers. When she pulled off the covers and stood, she found that her left leg wobbled under her weight, a dull throb coming from her hip.
Lifting the dressing gown, Hermione saw a bruise at the top of her thigh and wondered, "Did I hurt it when I collapsed?"
She did not have to wait long for answers. A rotund woman with thick, waist length dreadlocks speckled with gray swept through a door. She wore robes of pink and white and carried a clipboard. Her dark skin was speckled with freckles and she smiled kindly at Hermione, dimples dotting her cheeks.
"Morning child. I am Madam Pomfrey, Hogwarts' Head Healer. Sit back down before you hurt yourself." She instructed kindly, a slight accent that Hermione thought might be Jamaican.
Hermione sat on the bed and began to ask a question, but the large woman spoke over her, looking down at her clipboard as she said, "Miss Granger, while you are under my care you will follow my instructions, do I make myself clear?"
Hermione nodded.
Madam Pomfrey looked up at her, an expectant look on her face.
"Um, yes madam," Hermione said quickly, realizing the Healer hadn't seen her nod.
"Very well, do you know what caused you to collapse?" Madam Pomfrey asked.
Shaking her head, Hermione answered, "No, I remember I couldn't let go of my wand or breathe properly, then I woke up here with this bruise and sore ribs," she gestured at her hip making no mention of the vineyard or the things she'd seen.
"Did you drink any potions or cast any spells on yourself?" Madam Pomfrey asked, making direct eye contact with Hermione, "Be honest, I cannot heal your superficial injuries safely without knowing this."
"I-, no, nothing like that," Hermione said honestly, "I just picked up my wand."
She waited to see if this would interest the Healer, half hoping she would know something about what had happened.
Unfortunately, the answer she gave proved disappointing, "I believe you may have had a seizure. Your injuries are likely the result of your fall or from thrashing about. If you experience any dizziness or lack of motor control, please come see me. I will require you to stay another night for observation."
"Can you do anything about my injuries?" Hermione asked, thinking of how Ollivander healed his hand.
Madam Pomfrey pulled out her wand and said, "Yes, lay still."
She waved her wand in an intricate pattern causing dots of pink light to appear. The lights hovered over Hermione, drifting until they had gathered into three groups. One over her chest, one above her right arm and one by her hip. Hermione's pain diminished and she immediately felt exhausted despite having just woken up.
Madam Pomfrey pocketed her wand and said, "Now that I know you're not in any immediate danger, I will allow your visitors to see you."
She went to the end of the room and opened a door, letting Li and Neville in from the corridor outside. They rushed to her beside, both looking concerned.
Li explained that she found Hermione twitching on the floor of their room, prompting her to call for Professor Flitwick. He used magic to levitate her through the corridors to the Hospital Wing.
"Madam Pomfrey said she couldn't find anything wrong with you by the time you got here," Li concluded.
"You feeling better?" Neville asked.
"I'm fine," Hermione said quickly, "Have I missed morning classes?"
Li nodded, "We just finished lunch and hurried up here to see if you were awake."
"We brought you snacks," Neville said, opening his bag and pulling out a few colorful boxes.
The first was labeled 'Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans', the second box contained 'Chocolate Frogs', and the last were 'Cauldron Cakes' which Hermione had tried on the Hogwarts Express.
Soon, Li and Neville were forced to leave for Potions, their third-period class.
"I'll come visit you later," Li called over her shoulder as she left.
"Can you bring me my books?" Hermione shouted as they closed the door.
She hoped they had heard her, because she had nothing to keep her occupied other than the sweets they'd left behind. She opened the box of 'Chocolate Frogs' first, pulling one out and removing its wrapper. Hermione ate the sugary amphibian and examined a small card that had fallen out as she opened it.
One side of the card showed a painting of a pale skinned, bald wizard wearing pale blue robes. His extremely thick gray eyebrows partially obscured his eyes and a robust mustache bristled on his upper lip. Like the photos and paintings in the castle, the man moved, scratching his ruddy nose and shifting in the throne-like chair on which he sat.
The name 'Merlin' was printed across the bottom of the picture in stylish gold letters. Hermione flipped the card over and found a single paragraph biography.
"Merlin was a legendary British wizard who lived during the Middle Ages. Little is known of his past, but he was a member of King Arthur's court, and arguably the most famous wizard of all time. He is thought to have been born at the end of the tenth century. Sometimes called the 'Prince of Enchantments' or 'Father of Spell-making', Merlin is credited with inventing many spells still used to this day and the Ministry of magic named their most prestigious award, 'The Order of Merlin', in his honor."
Fascinated to discover that King Arthur had actually existed, Hermione opened another, set the chocolate aside and examined the card. Less than an hour later, a large pile of uneaten 'Chocolate Frogs' sat on Hermione's bedside table. She had twenty cards including Merlin, Helga Hufflepuff, two of Henry Duvall, Albus Dumbledore, and a number of other famous witches and wizards.
Ignoring her fatigue, Hermione got out of bed and forced herself to walk back and forth across the long narrow room ten times.
She pondered the things she'd seen in the vineyard as she paced, "Was it a dream, a vision, or maybe a memory? That gigantic version of my wand was in that same vineyard before, and it did look a bit like a giant bowtruckle."
When Madam Pomfrey came out of her office to check on Hermione she gave her a stern look, obviously displeased to see her out of bed. She made no comment about it however, instead informing Hermione that she had another visitor.
Hermione glanced at a clock on the wall and wondered, "Who could it be? It's still an hour before Li and Neville finish Study Hall."
Madam Pince walked into the room, looked at Hermione, then turned to Madam Pomfrey and, in a demanding voice, asked, "Where is her wand, Poppy?"
Madam Pomfrey stuck out her large chest and in a stiff voice said, "I have it in my office, I see no reason that she would need it while she's here."
More softly, Pince said, "Get the wand and give us some privacy."
Her words carried a weight, like Hermione herself felt compelled to fulfill the request though it hadn't been directed at her. Madam Pomfrey hesitated for a moment, then went to her office and came back with Hermione's wand. She said nothing else, setting the wand on the bedside table and returning to her office. She slammed the door shut and Madam Pince smiled.
"That's better," she said, reaching out to pick up Hermione's wand.
Without conscious thought, Hermione snatched it up before Pince's fingers could touch the wood. This caused Madam Pince to smile more broadly, an air of smugness to the grin.
"Tell me child, what happened last night?" she asked soothingly.
Deciding immediately to lie, Hermione answered, "I'm not sure, Madam Pomfrey said it might just have been a seizure."
Pince rolled her eyes and repeated her question in the same commanding, but quiet tone she'd used on Madam Pomfrey, "What happened last night?"
Against her will, Hermione began to explain, "I picked up my wand for the first time in two days and something happened. I collapsed and my vision went black. Next thing I knew, I was standing in the vineyard."
Madam Pince raised her eyebrows curiously, "Go on, what did you see in this vineyard?"
The wood of her wand began to grow warm where it touched Hermione's skin as she spoke. When Pince asked her second question, the wood became painfully hot, shocking Hermione with the pain. She gasped slightly, then gritted her teeth, breaking eye contact with Pince and forcing herself to remain silent.
"Well," Madam Pince said, "That is both encouraging and disappointing. Keep your small secrets for now."
With that, she strode from the room. Hermione released her wand, which had grown so hot she was surprised it hadn't lit on fire. Her brow was covered in sweat and she was breathing as though she'd been running.
Madam Pomfrey emerged from her office after another hour. She seemed uncomfortable and did not look at Hermione. Li came to visit soon after and brought Hermione her books and some notes on what they'd covered in class. Hermione spent the evening catching up on what she'd missed. Madam Pomfrey released her from the Hospital Wing the next morning. She asked Hermione to tell her if she experienced another episode or any loss of control over her body.
Hermione returned 'Spell-making' to the library soon after being released from the Hospital Wing. Over the next week she avoided the building with its beautiful books out of fear she would encounter Madam Pince. Study Hall forced her to spend a few hours there, but luckily Pince did not seek her out.
Suddenly, Hermione found herself with an excess of free time. The library had become her favorite place at Hogwarts, and other than mapping, she had spent almost every free minute she could among its shelves. She continued to work on the map, but almost fifty percent of it was now complete, her spells having exceeded all her original expectations. Classes had become incrementally more challenging, but even two months into the school year, Hermione had come to the conclusion that nothing in the curriculum was beyond her ability. Snape continued to make snide remarks about her penmanship with a quill, but he grudgingly awarded her perfect scores, seeming unable to be able to find any mistakes in her essays or practical potion making.
Hermione's time became increasingly focused on the poem. She read it each night before bed, hoping to find another clue, and each morning she would find Neville and ask him about helping her get into Gryffindor Tower. She did truly want to solve the mystery of Rowena's room, but deep down, Hermione knew that she was distracting herself from worrisome topics such as her wand, Ollivander, Pince, or even Snape. Neville proved nervous about the idea, growing pale whenever she broached the topic. He would usually stammer some excuse and run off without giving a definitive yes or no. On Thursday, one week before Halloween, Hermione cornered Neville between classes and presented him with a timeline for her plan.
"I talked with some older students and they said the common rooms are always empty during feasts like the one on Halloween. What if we try it then?" Hermione whispered.
Neville looked around nervously but there was no one near enough to hear their conversation, "I'm not sure, Hermione. I don't want to lose my house any more points. When I melted my cauldron last week," he paused, looking ashamed," well, after I got out of the Hospital Wing, Snape took sixty points from Gryffindor! Dean Thomas already threatened to jinx me if we don't win the house cup."
Enraged at the idea of Neville being bullied, Hermione let the subject of Gryffindor Tower drop and said, "Let me teach you the shield charm, you shouldn't let anyone treat you like that!"
With a roll of his eyes Neville replied, "Come on, I can barely get my pillow to change colors in Charms, how would I pull off an advanced spell like that?"
"With practice," Hermione said resolutely.
Fueled by her fury, Hermione pulled out a scrap of paper and began drawing up a schedule for working with Neville. She also agreed to help him study for their regular classes in which Neville's scores ranked quite low compared to most of the first-years.
Protecting Neville from the other Gryffindor boys diverted Hermione's attention for a few days. They met most mornings to go over school work then, in the evenings, they would go to the abandoned classroom Hermione had found on the third floor.
Neville struggled for days to cast spells that Hermione and Li had mastered in hours. With Hermione's guidance, he managed to successfully cast a shield charm on Monday evening, three days before Halloween.
"You're making great progress," Hermione told him as they descended a staircase.
Neville shrugged, still looking forlorn despite his success.
They walked for a time in silence until Hermione spoke again, "Have you thought anymore about helping me get into your common room?"
With a weary sigh he said, "Of course I've thought about it, and well… I guess I owe you for all the help you've been giving me."
Hermione felt her cheeks warm as she blushed, "That's not why I offered to study with you, I just don't like how the other first-years treat you!"
Neville smiled weakly at her look of embarrassment and shook his head as he said, "I know, that's actually what convinced me to finally say yes. You would have helped me even if I refused to go along with your plan. You're a good friend Hermione, and," Neville's voice took on a different tone, as though quoting someone, "Sometimes the bond of friendship, honor, and love supersede the rules and laws of men."
"Is that something your grandmother says?" Hernione asked, knowing that Neville could hardly go a day without quoting the woman.
Neville laughed, "Oh goodness no. She would tell me to stay away from you. My gran hates rulebreakers! It was actually Professor Dumbledore who told me that… He's a very strange man."
They continued chatting until they reached the bottom of the staircase. Hermione glanced at her map for reference, pointed right, and said, "Ravenclaw Tower is this way, if you head left you'll find a spiral staircase that takes you to the entrance hall."
Before parting ways, Neville agreed to meet the next morning to go over Hermione's plan for entering Gryffindor Tower.
Not long before curfew, Hermione arrived at the door with no handle. She placed her palm against the door and the bronze eagle head said, "I run but never walk, I murmur but cannot speak, I have a bed but never sleep, I have a mouth but cannot eat."
Brain abuzz with thoughts of Disillusionment Charms, silencing spells, and security runes, Hermione barely heard the question. She asked the eagle to repeat the question and it recited the riddle again. Still, Hermione couldn't come up with an answer. The riddle had changed sometime since lunch, the last time Hermione had gone up to her room.
Feeling embarrassed, Hermione tried to think it through. The line, 'I have no mouth' made her think of the bowtruckle being forced to swallow a heartstring. Disturbed, Hermione rubbed at her eyes and shook her head, trying to force the unwanted image from her mind.
A squeaky voice beside her said, "Finally stumped, Granger?"
Hermione let out a little shriek and jumped. She looked down and found Professor Flitwick standing beside her.
Flitwick chuckled at her expression, "Sorry if I startled you, I need to talk with the Prefects, but I thought I'd let you try a few times before I interrupted."
"Oh, no need to apologize Professor, I'm sorry I made you wait," Hermione said, still startled and feeling even more embarrassed to have failed to solve the riddle in front of her head of house.
"Most first-years get stuck outside the common room by one of Rowena's riddles in the first week of classes," Flitwick said, sounding contemplative, "But you've managed to solve each riddle for two months without batting an eye. I actually have a bet going with another Professor that you would make it all year without help, guess I owe him a galleon."
He smiled at her, then reached out and placed his small hand on the wood of the door.
This time, when the eagle spoke, the answer came to Hermione immediately. It seemed the shock of Flitwick's appearance had cleared her mind of other thoughts, allowing her to hear the riddle properly for the first time.
Before the Professor could answer, Hermione quickly said, "A river!"
The door opened and Flitwick looked up at her, beaming and said, "I guess I'll keep that Galleon for now. Keep up the good work Miss Granger."