v v Harry Potter and the Mark of Hermes
Chapter 5: The Secret RoomHe was scared. He could feel the fear rising within him the way lava rises up a volcano as it is about to explode. His breath came out in short, uneven rasps, and his stomach was quivering as if a great battle was being fought inside it.
As he got nearer and nearer to his master's den, he feebly tried to pluck the courage from within. He was once, after all, a Gryffindor…
Yet how would his master take it? How will he react when he finds out that the boy already had it? That the one person he so loathed, was in possession of the one thing that kept him from the immortality he so selfishly sought?
He knew it wasn't his fault; he tried his hardest to find all Four Noble Books.
He lied to people, stole from people, he tortured people, and he even killed people.
Yet only three were found.
He came once before to his master in agony, and told him of his failure, and he was severely punished for it. Now to come again, with this most horrendous news…
He sighed before entering the chamber. For in it the most inevitable fate awaited him…
******
It was lovely, watching her. She sat there, at a table in a quiet corner of the library hidden by bookshelves where she was sure no one could see her, her nose stuck in a book. The sun poured over her through the window, and she looked almost glorious in her setting. For it was her setting, the library. She was the goddess of the books and the halo of light surrounding her proved her to be so.
Harry silently watched her from behind a bookshelf. He saw her turn a page gently, and he saw a long, thick, gorgeous curl fall into her face. Harry grinned, "Shortly, she'll begin twirling it," he thought to himself.
Soon enough Hermione lifted the curl from off her face and began to twirl it around her fingers, her attention never once leaving the book.
"Now she'll braid her hair," thought Harry, his grin getting wider.
Sure enough, her gaze still on her book, Hermione parted her hair in half, and began to skillfully braid half of it. Harry watched her delicate fingers work in silent contemplation. She then grabbed the other half of her hair, and braided that, so that she ended up with braids similar to Judy Garland's in The Wizard of Oz.
"Next, she'll unbraid her hair and repeat the process over again."
Hermione then preceded to unbraid her braids, never losing focus of her book. She then turned the page and relaxed for a bit, and only for a bit, for the self-same curl that plagues all bushy haired girls whilst they read came back down over her face, hindering her view of the book in focus. Slowly, her hand came back up, and she began to softly twirl it again.
Harry couldn't take any more of this torture. As much as he loved watching her, he needed to get his hands in her hair. So he swiftly, and quietly, walked out from among the bookshelves where he had been watching her a minute ago, and stepped right behind her.
Hermione sensed his presence behind her, but she somehow knew he didn't want her to turn around and greet him. Some innate ability to read each other's minds, even when they weren't literally reading each other's minds, told her to stay put.
She suddenly felt Harry's hands in her hair. She felt Harry calmly run his hands through her tangled curls.
She immediately felt that feeling, that weird but lovely sensation only Harry seemed to spark within her. It started in her stomach until she felt it all over, that spark, that electricity that can only be compared to the meeting of two atoms; only Harry's touch seemed to provoke it.
She then felt Harry go down on his knees next to her, where he preceded to smell her hair.
Hermione didn't know which was better, Harry's hands gently playing with her hair, or the feel of Harry's face in her hair, his warm breath on her neck.
His breath on her skin was the most exquisite feeling ever known to her. She felt the aura of static electricity surrounding her and Harry almost triple. It took a tremendous amount of will power to keep her hands off him, for every fiber of her skin screamed at her to turn around and snog him senseless.
But she remained calm, and allowed the bittersweet torture to continue. She felt Harry grab some of her hair in his hands, and gently push it away to reveal her neck. She knew what he was going to do and she gripped her chair in anticipation.
The first touch of Harry's lips on her neck nearly drove her batty.
She relaxed in her chair, feeling a bit faint and heady, intoxicated with the feel of Harry, yet she also felt her pulse speed up ten times faster, and she felt a great need to turn around and tackle him.
She was going mad.
But she wasn't as mad as when she felt Harry's mouth open, and his warm tongue on her neck. That nearly did her in. She needed to get out of her chair and on top of Harry. IMMEDIATELY!
Harry, knowing she would react like this, wrapped his arms around her to keep her in place. Hermione whimpered and squirmed in delight and in protest, as Harry devoured her neck.
Presently, Hermione gave out a loud, ecstatic moan, which brought the attention of Madame Pince upon the two lustful teenagers.
"Do you two mind?" Madame Pince interrupted as she burst on them from between the bookshelves.
Harry stood up immediately and stepped away from Hermione.
"We, er…we were just…"
"Oh enough! This is the first and last time I hope to find such a display, from prefects no less, now off you two!"
Hermione blushed as she checked out her books, feeling relieved that Madame Pince didn't give them detention or take away points, annoyed at being interrupted at such a pleasant moment, and still tingling from Harry's touch.
As soon as they were out of the library, Hermione turned on Harry and smacked him.
Harry laughed. "Hey what was that for?"
"Are you insane?" Hermione chastised, "We could have gotten in loads of trouble…."
"But we didn't."
"But we could have."
"Darling relax," Harry said, eyes shining, "You seemed like you rather enjoyed it."
Hermione smacked Harry again, and Harry grabbed her and kissed her cheek.
"I know you love me," Harry whispered in her ear as he grinned cheekily.
Hermione rolled her eyes but didn't deny it, "I know I do. Doesn't stop me from wanting to kill you sometimes however…"
At this Harry laughed and walked away from her, blowing her kisses.
"And where exactly do you think you're going?" Called Hermione to him.
"Quidditch practice," he said as he trotted off.
*Make sure you're not late to McGonagall's again* Hermione thought to him.
*I won't be.*
Harry continued to walk briskly toward the Quidditch pitch, hoping that the faster he did things the sooner it would be time to see Prof. McGonagall. He loved going to his Animagus classes. He had advanced quite remarkably since his first lesson 2 months earlier.
Harry and Hermione had been attending Animagus lessons with McGonagall 3 nights a week.
At first McGonagall thought that they should only meet 2 nights a week, but her two pupils seemed to be getting on so quickly and so easily that she asked Dumbledore if she could accelerate their advancement to 3 nights a week. Dumbledore readily approved, and soon enough, Harry found that he could easily manage to transform himself into a Golden Gryffin.
Harry relished his state as a Golden Gryffin. He was so enthusiastic about it that he found himself practicing for hours by himself, without alerting anyone else. McGonagall was shocked when Harry managed to transform himself COMPLETELY into a Golden Gryffin a month into his lessons (maintaining the transformation turned out to be a bit trickier, but upon further practice Harry managed to STAY a Golden Gryffin for decent period of time).
The Basilisk was an ENTIRELY different matter.
Harry could not, for the life of him, transform into a Basilisk. Besides the lessons with McGonagall, he practiced his Basilisk transformation alone, but to no avail.
Harry didn't understand why he couldn't do it! Becoming a Golden Gryffin was amazing to him, he felt that he was born to be a one. Transforming into a Golden Gryffin was like second nature to him. He didn't have to think about it, (at first he did though) it was like coming into your second skin.
Hermione told him that maybe he was psychologically fighting against transforming into a Basilisk.
According to what she read in one of her many books, (The Psychology of Animal Transformations by Professor Diggory Kirke) Hermione thinks that Harry attributes snakes with evil, and he himself is fighting with evil constantly, whether it be physically present (in Voldemort) or mentally (his connection with Voldemort), so in refusing to become a Basilisk, he is refusing to succumb to evil.
Harry at first thought this theory ridiculous, but the more and more he failed at becoming a Basilisk and the more and more frustrated he became, the more and more he began to believe the theory true, and the more and more he wanted to overcome it.
******
*Harry, you promised you wouldn't be late!* Hermione thought to him frantically. This was the 5th time he was late to one of the Animagus lessons, and McGonagall already had her lips pursed in a thin, grim line.
*I'm on my way already, I just have to find the bloody room!*
Harry turned a corner and tried to decide in which hall the secret room would be in tonight.
On Tuesdays and Thursdays the secret room is usually found on the left side in the 4th hall to the right. But on Wednesdays it is situated on the right side of the 3rd hall to the left. The problem now was to remember which day it was.
*Hermione, what's the date?* Harry thought to his girlfriend.
*Its Thursday Harry, honestly.*
Harry could feel her roll her big brown eyes at him, and he smiled.
Harry made a sudden right turn and walked to the 7th door on his left side.
"You are late, Harry Potter." McGonagall informed him coolly as he entered the room. Hermione was standing behind the chair McGonagall sat in, eyeing him with sympathy.
"Sorry Professor, but Quidditch practice ran late and…"
"No excuses, begin immediately."
Harry sighed and walked around the room. He needed to get a feel of his surroundings in order to transform.
The first time he entered the "secret room," as he and Hermione dubbed it, he found that he rather liked it.
It was a long room with a high ceiling, a fire burned in the center of the wall facing the entrance door.
Most Hogwarts' hearths look cheerful and pleasant, but the fire in this room added even more mystery to the room, for mysterious it was. Aside from the fact that it was hard to find, it was unlike any other room in Hogwarts. What made it so different? Well, it was completely barren! Most other rooms in Hogwarts were warm and inviting, with color thrown about everywhere.
The floor in this room, however, was wooden with no carpet, and there wasn't any furniture at all in the room except for a big plush red velvet chair which McGonagall sat in, and an old wooden wardrobe that stood inconspicuously in a corner.The only decoration in this room was on the walls. (Aside from the drapes that matched McGonagall's chair)
Four banners hung above the fire, each devoted to one of the four houses.
"Stop dawdling Potter, you should now be at the stage where you don't need to get a feel for your surroundings, your transformation should be instantaneous."
"Oh, am I to turn into a Golden Gryffin then?" (Harry had thought he was to practice transforming into a Basilisk).
"Well, one more time wouldn't hurt you would it?"
Harry sighed again, it was his own fault for being late; he knew she would get like this.
He turned to look at Hermione who gave him an encouraging smile. Then he turned to look at the fire and felt the transformation come upon him.
It started at his feet; he felt his feet grow larger and furry, followed by his legs. He soon felt his hands grow into paws as well, and his limbs grow longer and furry. Then he got down on all fours and he felt his hair grow longer and into an orangey mane. Soon enough a lion stood were Harry used to stand, a big golden lion, beautiful too look at.
The lion had green eyes, and above it's right eye, you could distinctly see a mark in the shape of a lightening bolt.
Then came the worst past, and the best part. Harry still felt pain at this part. In the beginning, before Harry became adept at transforming, he felt pain, of the most excruciating sort, all over his body, as he transformed into a Golden Gryffin, and for hours afterward. But as he continued to practice the pain lessened, (either that or his tolerance increased). The one part of his transformation that still hurt him, however, though it was only a bit, was when he sprouted wings.
At this point, wings, like angel wings, began to grow out of the lion. The transformation was complete. The lion was not a lion anymore, it was a Golden Gryffin.
Hermione couldn't resist the urge to go over and pet the Golden Gryffin, (it was so cute!) but McGonagall cut the cuddle session short.
"Potter, I want you to fly."
Hermione turned and gave McGonagall a queer look. "Fly? But Professor, do you think he is ready to…"
But before Hermione had finished, the Golden Gryffin had tackled her to the ground and looked into he eyes steadily.
*Hermione, don't talk her out of it, I think I'm ready to fly.*
*But Harry what if something happens to you? I don't want you to break another bone or DIE or…*
*Shh…I'll be fine. I know I can do it. Trust me ok?*
The Golden Gryffin gave Hermione a reassuring lick and turned to McGonagall with an intense look in its eyes.
McGonagall nodded, and the Golden Gryffin took off.
It was a wonder to look at! Hermione couldn't take her eyes off of it as it soared around the large room (the ceiling seemed to be higher than she remembered, but of course she attributed that to McGonagall). The animal looked majestic as it flapped its wings and flew flew around and around.
Harry was relishing this just as much as Hermione was. He couldn't believe the freedom, and the pleasure he got from being in the air. The high from flying as a Golden Gryffin was completely different from the one he got on a broom. Quidditch is a game of adrenaline, the rush you get, the fast beat of your pulse, the flush in your cheek, all come from the air of competition and fast flight, and the danger of the game.
Flying as a Golden Gryffin was…well…it was peace, and happiness, and HOME. He didn't know whether to laugh or to cry, to roar in ecstasy or just let the feeling of harmony overcome him.
He wished he could fly forever, but he soon felt his wings ache and his body grow tired. He landed expertly and immediately felt his animagus form disappear, and he became Harry again.
Hermione rushed to hug him in delight, but as she wrapped her arms around him she immediately felt the pain he was in.
"Professor, I don't think Harry will be able to continue tonight." Hermione told McGonagall as she helped him up.
"Fair enough Ms. Granger, I expect you will stay and continue the lesson?"
Hermione bit her lip and looked at Harry.
*Harry, do you want me to-*
*Stay.*
*But-*
*Stay. I'll be fine. I'm a big boy. I can find my way back to the common room. And if not, I know I can at least invade your mind and ask for directions.*
Hermione gave him a weak grin.
*Go and get some rest.*
*Yes mum,* Harry thought to her on his way out.
Hermione smacked him mentally.
*Ouch!*
*That is what you get for your cheek Harry Potter.*
Hermione faintly heard Harry mutter, "Women," as he closed the door behind him.
"Now Ms. Granger, on with your lesson," McGonagall urged Hermione.
Hermione took a deep breath and began to concentrate. Turning into a Raven wasn't quite as easy for her as it had been for Harry to turn into a Golden Gryffin. Hermione had mastered turning into one, but she had yet to be able to keep her Raven form for more than a few minutes. And whenever she did turn into one, it still hurt her dreadfully, and she would ache for hours afterwards.
Hermione suddenly felt herself shrink in size, and she felt herself grow feathers, brown feathers, and a beak and claws. Soon she found herself a Raven, a beautiful brown Raven.
The Raven stood stock still, finding it very hard to maintain itself as a Raven, due to all the pain. But the longer it stood, the Raven found the pain lessening, and lessening.
Hermione found herself breaking her own record, and maintaining her Raven form longer than usual. She was beginning to feel excited. The pain had grown steadily less, and she slowly found the courage to spread her wings.
This brought out a sharp pain, but Hermione was determined to overcome it. She spread her wings even further and kept them spread, knowing that the more she got accustomed to it, the less it would hurt.
After what seemed like hours as a Raven, the pain suddenly stopped, as if all along it was only a balloon of pain within her, and somebody came with a pin and popped it. As soon as the pain stopped however, she felt herself grow thoroughly exhausted, and she felt herself slowly transforming back into her human form.
"Hermione," McGonagall started, "Well done. You did very good tonight, I am very impressed."
Hermione smiled faintly, but her eyes shone with satisfaction. "Thank you professor," Hermione finished meekly.
"Now Ms. Granger, I suggest you go to your room and rest. Surely this exertion must have tired you out."
Hermione nodded in agreement, said her goodnight to McGonagall, and quickly left the room.
When she finally got to the common room, she felt like she was going to faint. She whispered the password to the fat lady, ( "Aslan's teeth!") and stumbled into an empty common room. She collapsed into the first couch she saw, only she hadn't realized the couch was occupied.
"Oof!" Harry yelled, and Hermione quickly jumped off of him.
"Oh I'm so sorr-" Hermione started, when she realized it was Harry. "What are you doing out of bed?" Hermione inquired. "You should be getting your rest!"
"Well, I did rest for a while, then I got hungry and remembered it was dinnertime, and I figured I'd see you down at dinner, but when I got down you weren't there, so I figured you'd be hungry when you got back and I brought up some dinner for you."
Hermione, who was ready to be mad at him for not resting, suddenly felt that little flutter in her stomach and immediately forgot all her aches and pains.
"Harry, that is so thoughtful of you." She purred, as she bent down to give him a sweet kiss on his cheek. The warmth began to spread to her toes and she again was amazed at the wonder that was Harry Potter.
"Are you hungry?" he asked her as he brought out a piece of cauldron cake, a flask of pumpkin juice, and half an eggplant sandwich (Hermione's favorite).
When she saw the food, Hermione couldn't ignore the sudden rumble in her stomach and began to devour the food Harry brought her.
"I can't believe I missed dinner, how long did I take in there anyways?" Hermione mused between bites of her food.
"Well over two hours." Harry answered as he watched her eat.
"No wonder I feel so tired."
When Hermione finished she gave a satisfied sigh and got up to go to her room.
"Bugger! I don't think I can make it up those stairs," Hermione grumbled in dismay as she saw the flight of stairs that led to her dormitory.
"Well than, stay and rest awhile," Harry urged her, as he made room for her to sit next to him on the big comfy couch.
Hermione decided that that was what she wanted to do, so she sat down next to Harry, but ended up lying down and placing her head on Harry's lap.
"Only for a bit," Hermione mumbled sleepily. She slowly, but surely, fell asleep.
Harry heard her snoring softly and chuckled lightly to himself. He gently eased out from under her and got up. He carefully picked her up, and slowly carried her up to her room and laid her down in her bed.
Before leaving he planted a tender kiss on her forehead, "Goodnight my love," he whispered softly in her ear.
"Mmm…Harry…" she mumbled in reply.
Harry grinned and quietly crept back to his room.
******