Chapter 20
Rowena's Room
"Return here once again, if you possess the spine…"
Hermione spoke the words aloud, excitedly realizing she had everything she needed to enter Rowena's secret room. She got up to retrieve the other two ingredients from her trunk, but as she stood, the short letter from Li fell to the floor.
Pausing, Hermione thought, "I didn't collect the flower, Neville and Li did, and I probably wouldn't have gotten this far without help from both of them…"
With great self control, Hermione managed to resist the urge to run to the top of the tower that night. Instead, she went down to the common room, expecting Li to sneak in at any moment. Hermione waited up all night, but Li never returned. She sent multiple apologies to both her friends via their communication papers, but no responses came.
It wasn't until the next morning at breakfast that Li reappeared. She said nothing as she sat beside Hermione and poured herself a cup of tea. Trying to be patient, Hermione waited for the shorter girl to say something. Li drank her tea, then she loaded her plate full of eggs and started eating.
Unable to contain herself any longer, Hermione said, "Li, I'm really sorry. I wish I could go back in time and stop myself from saying all of that. I can't say it enough, I'm sorry."
She waited, but still, Li refused to speak. Hermione fidgeted, feeling horrible about the things she had said the day before, but also itching to ask how her friends had obtained the Mandrake flower.
"Li," Hermione said pleadingly, tears forming in her eyes, "Say something."
Finally, Li gave in, letting out a disappointed sigh, "Darn it, I was going to keep giving you the silent treatment all through breakfast but you look so pathetic. Did you sleep at all?"
Hermione shook her head, "No, I waited up for you! Where on earth did you sle-, ow!"
Li elbowed Hermione, cutting her off and then muttered, "Shush, not here. Eat something and have some tea, you look awful."
Hermione begrudgingly did as Li suggested, drinking down two cups of tea and eating a half dozen slices of bacon. They left the Great Hall together, and Hermione followed Li who led her to the unused classroom where they'd planned their mission to enter Hufflepuff's common room. Li walked to a corner and pulled the invisibility cloak off of Neville, who had been lying on the floor, hidden by his incredible fabric. In lieu of a sleeping bag, he was wrapped in a sock that had been enlarged with magic.
He started awake as Li pulled off the cloak, looking blearily around and saying, "Huh? What's wrong?"
"Everything's fine," Li said, leaning over and handing Neville the tea and toast she'd smuggled out of the dining area.
Hermione, feeling uncomfortable, stood waiting near the door. Her curiosity about how Neville and Li obtained the Mandrake flower was overshadowed by guilt. Hermione had been rude to Li, but her treatment of Neville had been much worse.
"Thanks again for taking the first watch last night," Li told Neville as he devoured the buttery toast.
After taking a gulp of tea and swallowing, Neville smiled, "No problem, thanks for letting me sleep in and getting me some food."
Glancing over at Hermione, Neville's smile faltered, but then he said, "What are you waiting for, Hermione? I thought you'd be dying to know what happened last night. Come take a seat."
Feeling wretched and undeserving of Neville's kindness, Hermione began to cry. She spoke in a blubbering voice, apologizing many times before Li and Neville both stood, wrapping their arms around Hermione until her sobbing subsided.
"There is one more thing you could do to make up for your tantrum," Li told her as they sat down on Neville's giant sock.
"I know," Hermione said, wiping the tears and snot from her face, "We can work on Snape's essay now if you want."
In response, Li rolled her eyes, "That was obviously a joke, Hermione," she paused, considering, "Actually, I do still want your help with that, but more importantly, I want to go with you."
Hermione hesitated. She understood what Li meant, but the idea of bringing someone else with her into Rowena's room felt somehow wrong.
"Wait," Hermione thought, sensing a second source of hesitation pulsing in her mind.
She glared down at her wand, which sat in her pocket. Hermione wasn't sure if the wand was pushing its own emotions onto her, or just mirroring and amplifying her feelings.
Either way, realizing that her reaction to Li's request had been influenced by the wand, even in part, prompted Hermione to speak before she could change her mind, "Okay. I'll do it. I'll bring you with me."
Neville sighed, "I'd ask to come, but there's no point if I'm stuck at the bottom of the stairs."
"She'll do your Potions homework for you instead," Li suggested with a grin.
Hermione held up both hands, "Woah, slow down. First you need to tell me how you got the third ingredient!"
Neville laughed, "Honestly, it wasn't that hard. Professor Sprout let me take a peek into her private greenhouse a couple months ago. She knows my uncle, and when she realized I was his nephew she… anyways, I thought I saw Mandrakes growing in there."
"You two broke into her private greenhouse?" Hermione asked in amazement.
Li shrugged, "She can't have been that worried about security or 'Alohomora' wouldn't have worked on the lock."
"And even if she did catch us," Neville said with an uncharacteristically mischievous look in his eye, "there's a few plants in there I'm certain are illegal to cultivate. I doubt she would want Dumbledore to know about those."
Hermione and Li laughed, and the three of them chatted a bit more before leaving the abandoned classroom. They returned to their common rooms for a nap, then met back up to work on the weekend's homework they'd been putting off. At seven o'clock, Hermione and Li bid goodnight to Neville, then made their way to the very top of Ravenclaw Tower.
Holding the box containing the three ingredients in one hand, Hermione placed her other hand's palm against the stone wall where this journey had begun. When words began carving themselves into the stone, Hermione grew tense with anticipation. She read the words eagerly, but after the first couple of lines, Hermione's anticipation faded away, replaced by annoyance.
"Not another riddle," Hermione whined, kicking gently at the wall, "No more poems, no more puzzles, just become a door, let me in!"
"You want me to write this one down?" Li inquired casually.
"Hmph, no I'll do it," Hermione huffed, pulling out a notebook.
"It's about the moon," Hermione grumbled discontentedly once she had read the poem three times, "I need to find the right time in its cycle to enter the room."
"You uh, doing alright?" Li asked, eyebrows raised in response to Hermione's attitude, "You got real mad all the sudden, kind of like yesterday."
She said the last part cautiously, as if not wanting to upset Hermione further. Considering Li's words, Hermione closed her eyes and felt it immediately, rapid beats of annoyance and impatience from her wand that went with the rhythm of her own emotions.
"My wand," Hermione said, opening her eyes, "It's making my emotions stronger now. I haven't felt it give off any emotions of its own lately, just the same as mine but more intense."
"Hmmm," Li said contemplatively, "I'd say you should get a new wand, but it's like that creepy wand shop guy said, the wand chooses the witch. I mean, I had to try a dozen before he found one that worked, and even then, all I got were sparks."
Hermione frowned. Her own experience in Ollivander's shop had been quite different. She'd produced beautiful golden spirals of light with the first wand Ollivander had offered her.
"Well," Hermione said, mentally barricading herself from the wand's emotional messages, "That's not important right now. I'll do some research, figure out what part of the moon's cycle will allow us access to Rowena's room."
Over the next three days, Hermione struggled through classes, finding herself distracted and uninterested in the lessons. She even lost Ravenclaw house twenty-five points when Professor Snape caught her reading during his lecture instead of taking notes. Li found this hilarious because the book Hermione had been studying was for advanced potion making, but Hermione saw no humor in the situation.
She was determined to find at least one potion that corresponded with the ingredients she'd found. So far, each time she found reference to powdered dragon bone, lionfish spines, or Mandrake flowers, the poem called for only one of the rare ingredients.
On Thursday morning, Hermione decided to skip her morning lecture hall classes in order to spend the day in the library.
"I'll be reading the whole time either way," she thought in justification as she left the main castle and trudged through fresh snow, "Plus I need to find some books on lunar patterns."
At eleven thirty, Hermione returned to the Great Hall for a quick lunch, then headed up to the fourth floor. While Binns and Quirrell hardly paid attention to their students, McGonagall would notice Hermione's absence, especially during a practical lesson.
Hermione tried to focus on her spellwork, but her mind kept wandering back to lunar charts and horribly complex potions. Li managed to turn a leather belt into a pair of woolen gloves just as they were supposed to be doing. When Hermione gave it a half-hearted attempt, her belt reshaped into two separate gloves, but they were still made of brown leather. Disappointed, Hermione sat down for Magical Theory in a foul mood.
"Hello class," called a familiar, grandmotherly voice, "I am Head Librarian, Madam Pince. I will be your guest teacher today."
Hermione snapped her head up, she looked at the podium and met Madam Pince's eyes. The old woman smiled, then looked about the room.
"Doubtless all of you are aware of the solstices and the equinoxes," Pince began, giving no further introduction or preamble to her lesson, "But what is often neglected, is our knowledge of the four cross-counter days. Much as the equinoxes mark a midpoint between the solstices, Imbolc, Beltane, Lughnasadh, and Samhain are the midpoint between solstice and equinox."
Confused and concerned by Madam Pince's presence, Hermione sat open-mouthed for a moment before realizing the relevance of this lecture to the newest of Rowena's riddles. She frantically pulled out a notebook and began scribbling down every word Pince spoke.
"Samhain continues to be celebrated, but in modern times we've begun calling it all hallows eve, the day of the dead, or Halloween. Other cross-quarter days, such as the upcoming Imbolc, have not maintained the same popularity. This is a shame, because certain magical ceremonies, potions, and ancient rites can only reach their full potency when performed on this day. This is true for Beltane and Lughnasadh as well, but with Imbolc only a few weeks away, let us focus on it for today."
By the end of the lesson, after reading through the new poem again, Hermione felt confident that on the second of February. Rowena's room would open. She thought about talking to Madam Pince, but the knowing smile she gave Hermione as she left the room was unsettling enough to dissuade her from following the elderly librarian.
"Three weeks from this Sunday," Hermione excitedly explained to Li after class.
"What do you think you'll find in there?" Li asked.
Unsure what she might actually find, Hermione answered with what she hoped for, "Maybe old books, possibly some of Rowena's notes or journals."
The following few weeks seemed to drag on for Hermione. Most students were discussing the upcoming semifinal match between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, but Hermione could think only about the secret room. She sought out Madam Pince a number of times, despite her discomfort with the woman, but she seemed to have disappeared.
The evening before Imbolc, Li and Hermione were practicing spells in the abandoned classroom on the second floor. They were about to leave when Neville came running into the room.
He looked distraught as he said, "I need to talk to you. I just had another meeting with Professor Dumbledore, and he tol-"
"How often do you talk with him?" Li interrupted curiously.
"Uh, once a month or so, but that doesn't matter," Neville said impatiently, "I told him about the shadow thing Hermione and Terry saw, and he said it could be H-"
This time Hermione interrupted Neville to say, "You always avoid our questions about this. Why has he taken such an interest in you?"
Letting out a groan of frustration, Neville loudly said, "Because he knew my parents, okay! Listen, he told me You-know-who might have been involved with killing those unicorns!"
Li looked skeptical at this announcement but Hermione felt suddenly cold and remembered the words her wand had communicated to her on two separate occasions, "He is awake".
"Neville," Hermione said seriously, "What exactly did he say?"
Speaking in a rush, Neville explained, "He said people were finding more and more dead unicorns in this one Albanian forest for the last ten years, and Albania is where He-who-must-not-be-named was rumored to be operating out of before he attacked the Potters and disappeared. He said You-know-who wouldn't be able to function on his own, he suspects he doesn't have a body. Dumbledore said he's going into the forest tomorrow to conduct a search."
"So what," Li said sarcastically, "He drank up all the unicorn blood in Albania, and now he's in the Forbidden Forest?"
"It's not a joke," Hermione said in a quiet voice, "I think he's right."
Li still looked unconvinced, but Hermione turned to Neville and said, "There's a chance Voldemort will try and get into Ravenclaw Tower tomorrow."
Neville and Li winced and, too late, Hermione realized she'd use Voldemort's name rather than referring to him by a pseudonym.
Neville ignored her mistake and said, "Dumbledore said he'd need some kind of host body, maybe a wild snake."
"What if it's not a snake, what if it's not an animal at all? Maybe Snape h-"
Neville spoke over Hermione, looking awkward as he explained, "I mentioned Snape and he… Dumbledore made it clear that his staff is above suspicion."
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Well, I'm glad he feels confident, but I don't trust Snape."
"What if Neville stands watch in front of our common room?" Li suggested, "If Snape shows up, Neville could warn us with the communication paper."
Hermione hesitated, but Neville nodded vigorously at the idea and said, "I'll do it."
"Fine," Hermione agreed after considering the situation, "But wear the cloak and don't take any unnecessary risks."
The next day at noon, Neville met them in front of the door with no handle. They talked over the plan again, then Neville put on the cloak and Hermione and Li made their way up the spiraling staircase to the top of Ravenclaw tower.
Hermione placed a hand on the blank stone wall and mentally commanded, "Let me into Rowena's secret room… please."
No carvings or new rhyming riddles appeared, instead, the wall simply puffed away like mist, revealing another five stairs leading up to a plain wooden door. It looked insignificant, no different from the door to Hermione's own room. She made eye contact with Li, who gave her a thumbs up. After a couple of deep breaths, Hermione walked up the steps and opened the door. Li followed her as she stepped inside, quietly closing the door behind them.
The room they found themselves in was a space large enough to be called a warehouse, and, Hermione considered, "A rather full warehouse at that."
The entryway to the room was crowded with a collection of coat racks, some wooden, others made of metal. Beyond the forest of coat racks, there were a series of bookshelves, as Hermione had hoped, but they were empty, holding only dust. Beside them were stacks of chairs, a crooked tower of desks, and many elegant wardrobes. Moving past a towering mahogany wardrobe, Hermione and Li got a better look at Rowena's room.
The ceiling hung at least fifty feet above them, and Hermione guessed the room could hold two football fields. In long lines, with space for walking between them, objects had been organized into groups, turning the room into a labyrinth. Glancing around in awe, Hermione saw piles of everyday items like dishes, quills, paintings, shoes, chairs, desks, tables, bed frames, mattresses, and more. Their excitement grew when they noticed that, scattered among these mundane things lurked the occasional gem.
At the end of the first two rows of objects stood a small crowd of marble statues, and not far from those, Li spotted a cabinet filled with vases, some that looked ancient. There were piles of swords, shields, and even a stack of saddles. A few minutes later they found a bin half-filled with old coins, and an umbrella stand brimming with wands.
Hermione was sorely tempted to take one of the wands, and maybe some of the gold, but she told herself, "Maybe another time, I should study the room before I take anything."
The two girls continued through the maze of aisles between rows of junk and treasure. Hermione tried her mapping spell twice, but it did not work, no ink rising from the bottle to depict their location.
Walking around a corner formed by a dozen rolled up carpets, Hermione spotted what she'd been hoping to find, books. They lay in a disorganized heap, larger than her parents' car. Hermione rushed over, pulled one tattered book off the top of the pile, and skimmed through a few pages.
"Blood magic," Hermione announced with disgust, putting the book aside and grabbing another.
Before she could read the title page, Li spoke, a note of sharp concern in her tone, "Did you hear that?"
Hermione had heard nothing, distracted by the books, but after closing her eyes and focusing, she heard the tinkling sound of glass on glass. The two girls eyed each other nervously, then continued down the aisle in the direction of the sound, wands held at the ready.
As they came closer, Hermione could hear a gentle bubbling sound, so she was not terribly surprised when they rounded the corner and found a cauldron full of boiling liquid. What did surprise her was the size of the cauldron, which she guessed to be large enough for both herself and Li to fit inside.
The liquid bubbling inside surprised Hermione even more. Silver, viscous, and giving off a wonderful smell, Hermione immediately recognized it as unicorn blood.
Despite this unsettling shock, the gallons of magical blood did not surprise Hermione nearly as much as the woman standing beside the cauldron. She wore pristine white robes rather than her usual purple ones, but the knowing smile she gave Hermione was the same as always.
"Hello Miss Granger," Madam Pince said politely, "Your timing is excellent, the potion needs only a few minutes before it is ready for the first ingredient."
"Why are you here?" Hermione asked, a sense of foreboding building in her chest, "I'd guessed you solved the poem when you were around my age, but why is that cauldron full of unicorn blood? What are these ingredients for?"
Li leaned in to whisper something in Hermione's ear, but as she began to speak, Pince's bright blue eyes focused on her. Li's eyes widened in terror as she lifted a hand to her throat. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.
"Your little eastern friend can wait right where she is," Pince said sharply, a scowl on her wrinkled face, "You, Miss Granger, bring the ingredients you've collected to me."
"Absolutely not!" Hermione tried to shout, but her throat produced no sound when she tried to speak.
Her legs, responding to Pince's command, began to step forward without Hermione's consent.
Desperately, Hermione thought, "Please, help me like you did before!"
She directed the plea into the wand clenched in her right hand, expecting the wood to grow painfully hot and free her from Pince's influence as it had in the past.
"Oh child," Pince said sympathetically, shaking her head, "That wand has not, and will not work against its true master. You were given this particular wand for a very specific purpose."
Hermione reached Pince and handed her the box containing the dragon vertebrae, lionfish spines, and Mandrake flower. Pince handed Hermione a pair of white robes, identical to the pair worn by the older woman.
"Put these on," she instructed, taking the dragon vertebrae out of the box and beginning to crush it into a fine powder with a mortar and pestle sitting beside a few empty jars.
"Let me address your earlier questions while you change. When I was your age, I did not collect these ingredients, nor did I make this potion. In fact, I did not attend Hogwarts at all, it wasn't really an option at the time" Pince laughed at this, though Hermione did not understand the joke, "Many decades later, after I'd done some teaching at Hogwarts, I discovered this incredible potion and started guiding promising Ravenclaw girls to the poem at the top of the tower."
Hermione's hands clumsily tossed her wand aside and removed her robes. The sensation of her body moving without her control was a horrifying one. Soon she wore the white robes, and Pince dumped the powdered dragon bone into the cauldron. The liquid inside took on a reddish hue, making it appear like dancing firelight reflected off a polished metal surface.
"What does this potion do?" Hermione thought with a building sense of horror.
"This potion is for permanent spiritual transplacement," Pince said, almost seeming to hear Hermione's silent question, "Or to put it simply, it allows a soul to move bodies. The base liquid for the potion is, of course, unicorn blood."
Pulling the top off the small glass vial, Pince dumped out the lionfish spines. Hermione watched as the little spikes hit the rolling surface of the potion and instantly, the boiling stopped.
"She doesn't mean… is she going to put her soul in my body?" Hermione thought with panic, desperately hoping that she'd misunderstood.
"Coming back around to the subject of your wand," Pince continued, stirring the cauldron with a long wooden spoon, "While you were born with higher than average potential, your magical achievements this year have not been entirely your own. I needed you to be stronger so, as I have done so many times, I arranged for you to be given a wand with which I'd formed a wielder's bond. This allowed you to occasionally draw directly from my own pool of magic and skills when casting a spell. It also allowed me to influence you through the wand to stay focused on getting here before the end of the year."
Madam Pince used a small knife to chop the Mandrake flower into bits as she talked, then she scooped the results into the cauldron. The mangled bits of flowers floated on the top of the liquid, causing no visible change.
"Hold out your hand dear," Pince commanded.
Hermione's arm extended, though she worked with all her will to keep it by her side. Stepping forward, Madam Pince took her by the wrist with one hand, holding the knife above Hermione's palm with the other.
"I am sorry to say that this is the only year you will get to spend at Hogwarts," the older woman said quietly, looking genuinely distraught, "I wish I could wait, but the stars and moon don't lie, the time is now."
Still unable to speak or move on command, Hermione could do nothing as Pince used the knife to cut a deep gash into her palm. Blood poured from the wound, filling her upturned palm.
"Walk to the cauldron and dip your hand in the potion," Madam Pince commanded.
Hermione's mouth opened wide with a silent scream as her traitorous body approached the cauldron, but before she could dip her bleeding hand into the golden liquid, a stammering male voice called, "S-s-stop!"
With a little puff of gray smoke, thick ropes appeared around Hermione. The ropes covered her mouth, pinned her arms to her sides, and robbed Hermione of her balance as they tightened around her knees and ankles. As she toppled over, her head bounced twice off the stone floor making Hermione's vision go momentarily white.
"That was quite rude, Quirinius," Madam Pince said reproachfully.
"Oh shut your mouth y-y-y-you old hag," Quirrell replied harshly, "My master w-wouldn't have f-forgiven me if she'd soiled the p-p-potion with her inferior blood."
Hernione lay dazed on the ground, watching the two adults in confusion. Quirrell's stutter sounded the same as it always had, his attitude and tone were aggressive and confident, nothing like the timid Professor she'd seen throughout the year.
"Where's Snape?" Hermione wondered with confusion, thought coming sluggishly, "And why isn't Quirrell helping me?"
"Your master thinks you will be a better vessel than this child?" Pince asked with a chuckle.
Puffing out his chest and looking offended, Quirrell said, "I'm p-p-pure-blooded, that alone would make me a s-superior choice."
"Your master is a fool then," Pince stated without malice.
"Am I?" Asked a cold, hissing voice.
The question came from Quirrell's direction, but he hadn't spoken. Hermione felt a chill run up her spine. Her thoughts were sluggish, but she could see that Quirrell's mouth was closed in an ugly sneer.
With one hand, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher began unwrapping his turban. As he did, Hermione spotted glowing symbols on the underside of the material. She thought they looked somewhat familiar, but in her current state, she couldn't place where she might have seen them before.
Once he'd finished removing the turban, Hermione felt a surge of fear run through her. Still not able to think clearly, it took Hermione to realize this new surge of fear was coming from her wand.
Quirrell turned his back to Pince, revealing a second set of features bulging from the back of his bald head. The other face looked wrong, with eyes too large, mouth too wide, and a flat, snake-like nose.
"Riddle, is that you?" Pince asked, squinting to get a better look at the monstrous face, "I must say you look awful. A pity, you were always such a handsome lad."
"Do not call me by that name," the face hissed, "I am Lord Voldemort and you will show me some respect."
In response to this declaration, a nervous, wavering voice called out, "Aguamenti!"
Li's spell hit Professor Quirrell right between the shoulder blades. Wide as a pumpkin, the column of water jettisoned him into a cabinet with a heavy 'thud'.
Li ran over to Hermione and knelt down, whispering, "I can move again, let's get these ropes off and run!"
Quirrell roared with anger, clambered to his feet, and pointed his wand at Li, "How dare you d-d-disrespect the Dark Lord!"
Hermione stared helplessly as Quirrell lifted his wand high overhead, then she noticed the cracked mirror with an ornate metal frame floating fifteen feet in the air, directly above the man with two faces.
Quirrell slashed his wand downward like a sword and shouted, "Avada Ke-"
As he began his incantation, the mirror dropped, the corner of its frame crashed into the top of Quirrell's head before he could finish the spell. He collapsed bonelessly to the ground, the mirror shattering on the stone floor beside him.
Blood ran from Professor Quirrell's scalp, mixing with the water seeping out of his soaked robes and spreading out across the gray stone.
"Is he dead?" asked Neville Longbottom nervously, stepping out from under the invisibility cloak and hurrying over to help Li untie Hermione.
They finally managed to free Hermione's hands, letting her retrieve her wand. Using magic, the rest of the ropes were removed in seconds, and Hermione unsteadily climbed to her feet.
Wincing at the pain that pulsed through her skull with each heartbeat, Hermione said, "Nice levitation charm, Neville, but how did you get here?"
"Yeah, nice," Li agreed, then she added, "But let's compare notes later. Right now, we need to run."
Unfortunately, before they could retreat, Professor Quirrell stood back up. Their teacher's eyes remained closed, but when he turned, they saw that Voldemort's scarlet eyes remained open, alert, and angry.
"He's using him like a puppet," Hermione thought with dismay as one of Quirrell's arms twisted unnaturally to point his wand in the direction that Voldemort faced.
Ignoring the blood dripping from her palm, and the pain in her skull that throbbed with each heartbeat, Hermione lifted her wand and focused.
"Protego," She whispered, creating a shield charm that shimmered in the air.
Hermione had experimented with this charm for months. She had not learned how to make it spherical, but she could make the shield larger than average, meaning her spell was large enough to cover herself, Li, and Neville.
Voldemort's wide mouth curled up in a grin as he took a pair of awkward steps forward, feet and knees still facing the same way as Quirrell's face. Hissing incantations in a language Hermione did not recognize, Voldemort sent a barrage of green orbs from the tip of his wand.
Hermione's shield barely held as the orbs slammed into it, fading with each impact until it was hardly visible in the air before her.
Legs shaking, Hermione poured everything she had into her spell. For a moment it worked, the flickering wall of pink light flared brighter, looking even stronger than her initial attempt. Unfortunately, the pain in her skull reached a sharp crescendo as Hermione concentrated on the spell. The intensity of it caused her to drop her wand, shield charm fading as Hermione collapsed to the floor with a whimper, arms wrapped around her head.
Forcing her eyes open despite the pain, Hermione watched helplessly as Voldemort smiled, lifting Quirrell's wand to finish her and her friends off.
Madam Pince clapped her hands and announced, "Enough!"
Instantaneously, a rough block of ice formed around Quirrell's body with his head sticking out of the ice. Voldemort snarled, but before he could do or say anything, Pince made a chopping motion with her wand. As if an invisible sword had been swung by a giant, a section of the ice block was neatly sliced away. Roughly three quarters of the ice block remained, but the section cut free contained Quirrell's wand, hand, and forearm. The ice reformed over the arm, freezing the blood running from the severed flesh. Beside her, Neville vomited, turning away from the gruesome sight.
The scream that came from Voldemort shook the room, rattling the pieces of broken mirror scattered across the floor. It wasn't a scream of agony, but frustration and disappointment. In response, Pince smiled, then chuckled, and finally broke into hysterical shaking laughter.
After she wiped tears of mirth from her eyes and caught her breath, Madam Pince spoke, her words punctuated by the occasional giggle, "You thought you could interfere with my plans? You? Hah! A half-dead man sharing the body of a two-bit wizard, who struggled to defeat a trio of first-years, and you presume to think you could steal my ritual?"
Voldemort roared, "I've lost too many opportunities! Dumbledore destroyed the fountain, and then convinced Flamel to destroy the stone! I will not let another old fool stop me from reaching my goals! I'll steal your vessel now that you've ruined mine, that's why I left her alone when I found her snooping around the forest. After that, I'll steal this room and connect myself into the foundations of this castle!"
The block of ice shattered into thousands of pieces, none larger than a fist. Quirrell's body, deeply frozen, shattered just like the ice. His head, the largest piece of him left, leaked something dark and gaseous as it rolled through the reddening chunks of ice. Neville vomited again, and Hermione followed his example, her dizziness almost causing her to collapse onto the pool of vomit.
The head came to a halt in front of Pince, who shook her head in disapproval, "You had so much potential Riddle, but this school is my domain. Go spend another decade faffing about for all I care, just be gone."
With a flick of her wand, the growing cloud of shadow streamed away, like smoke in a strong wind. Next, Pince used magic to clean up the mess she'd made, the ice and corpse vanishing without a trace. With a third, more delicate movement of her wand, Pince returned the mirror to its original cracked and tarnished form, then guided it lovingly back into place beside a stack of other mirrors.
Li grabbed her under the armpits, forcing Hermione to her feet and whispering, "We need to run while she's distracted."
Turning her attention to the first-years, Pince's eyes widened when she looked at Hermione and, in a dismayed voice, said, "Child, what have you done to your robes? Let me clean them off, then we can proceed with the ritual."
Leaning heavily on Li for support, Hermione looked down, noticing the blood and bile staining the white robes Madam Pince had forced her to put on.
"Back off you old hag!" Li shouted, brandishing her wand with one arm while holding up Hermione, "You can't have my friend's body!"
Neville wiped his mouth and then drew his own wand, stepping forward to stand between Pince and Hermione, "I don't exactly understand what's going on, but we need to take Hermione to the Hospital Wing right now. Please help us or get out of the way."
"Wait for me by the entrance of this room," Pince said in a voice that seemed to echo in Hermione's mind.
Li and Neville reacted immediately, lowering their wands and silently walking away without looking back. Hermione, also affected by the commanding words, tried to follow, but without Li to support her, she collapsed again.
Madam Pince clicked her tongue disapprovingly as she strolled over to Hermione's side, "Tsk, tsk, child. If you hadn't been so focused on defending your silly friends, I think you could have defeated that foolish man by yourself."
"Wouldn't have worked," Hermione mumbled, barely holding onto consciousness, "Can't do jinxes or Transfiguration right, terrible at them, don't know why."
"Your failures in Transfiguration stem from your obsession with muggle mathematics," Pince explained, using magic to lift Hermione and move her towards the cauldron, "As for your weak offensive spells, you simply lack the will to dominate."
A warmth suddenly enveloped Hermione's left hand, soothing the pain in her palm and making her hazily think, "Oh yeah, my hand… forgot it was bleeding. Barely hurts compared to my head."
The sensation of warmth spread up Hermione's arm and into her chest. From there, it coursed through every inch of her body, seeming to flow into her blood, bones, and mind.
Drawing in a ragged gasp, Hermione opened her eyes. She breathed as though she'd been underwater for the last ten minutes, coughing and taking in greedy lungfuls of air. The white robes she wore were no longer stained with blood or vomit, her hand was healed, and when she prodded the place her head had hit the ground, she found it did not hurt.
Looking down at the giant cauldron right in front of her, Hermione saw the potion had turned bright gold and realized, "My blood, it must have allowed the Mandrake flower to dissolve."
This realization made her think, "My mind, it's working properly again!"
Her excitement was short lived as her newly healed brain began processing the events that had occurred over that last quarter hour, "The potion is ready, Pince is going to steal my body, and I can't stop her. I was wrong about Snape. I never would have suspected Quirrell, and now he's dead. My wand has been on her side this whole time. Can I run? Can I stall Pince? Keep her talking and hope Neville gets Dumbledore or -"
"Well, that was quite the flurry of thoughts," Pince commented with a raised eyebrow, interrupting Hermione's high speed inner monologue, "Your injuries are obviously healed, so we can proceed."
Hermione tried to run, but the older woman spoke a single word, "Stop," and she froze in place, unable to move, but still able to speak.
"Why are you doing this?" Hermione demanded, her frustration and fear echoed by her wand, which pulsed with the same emotions.
"There are steps one must take in order to cheat death," Pince explained, walking up to the cauldron and using the knife to cut her own palm, "I managed to chain my spirit to this castle, connecting my essence into every nail, beam, and stone. This keeps me tethered to life, but does nothing to stop my body from physically aging."
Madam Pince dipped her bleeding hand into the potion and the liquid turned a shade of white that matched her robes perfectly. She withdrew her hand, and Hermione could see that it still dripped blood.
"You're Insane!" Hermione shouted, silently hoping someone would hear her, "This is murder!"
Shaking her head, Pince said, "No, not exactly. You see, Hermione Granger will live on. Your name will go down in history as one of the most accomplished witches of your generation."
"I don't care about my name's reputation, I want to live my own life!" Hermione retorted, her wand seeming to fan the flames of her anger.
"But child," Pince said with a smile, "I know you better than you could ever know yourself. Do you think Elaine Pince would have been half as successful without me? Look at this place! It represents centuries of knowledge. Originally, this room was smaller than my current office, but every year it grows, reflecting my own expanding knowledge and experience. You should feel honored to be chosen as my vessel."
Hermione listened with horrified fascination, distracted somewhat by a deep pang of sadness from her wand that did not match any emotion she currently felt.
"If left to your own devices, you would become talented, but ultimately your blood status would exempt you from positions of power. I, however, will not be so easily ignored, no matter what," Pince said, her smile tinged with malice, "In tribute to your secret desires, I'll disrupt the status quo I've helped maintain for so long. The time seems right for another goblin war, and maybe I can even get the elves to join in. Would you like that?"
"You're insane…" Hermione whispered, trying to step back, but still unable to move.
"No, I'm perfectly sane, I just view things on a grander scale than most can comprehend," Pince replied, a note of reprimand in her tone, "All life is significant, but knowledge is paramount. Without me, so much would be lost. I am sorry, but the time has come, please climb into the cauldron. The potion will be hot, but not scalding."
"I'm going to die," Hermione thought with shock, the reality of her situation sinking in as her body followed Pince's instructions, turning and walking back towards the cauldron.
In response to her desperation, Hermione felt pulses of guilt and sadness coming from her wand. Unable to move her neck, she turned her eyes and looked down past her nose at the piece of wood still held in her right hand. It was smeared with her blood, and, with no other options or clever ideas, Hermione tried something she had never attempted before.
Prior to learning about Hogwarts and the Wizarding world, Hermione had used instinctual magic without understanding what it truly was. After learning to cast spells with her wand, she had spent a little time practicing without it, finding that her personal magic seemed to have become stronger, but what she did now was something new.
In a moment of terrified inspiration, Hermione created a new spell, using everything she'd learned about spell-making. She based her idea loosely on the translation glasses Li had given her for Solstice, and the few sentences she'd read in the book about blood magic. Before her body could reach the cauldron, Hermione used her own personal reserve of magic and cast the new spell 'on' her wand, not 'with' it.
Her legs stopped moving and her whole body began to shake. She heard Pince commanding her to move, but it was no use. Hermione collapsed to the floor, body thrashing spasmodically as she lost consciousness, her hand clamped around the wand in a vice like grip.
For the third time she could remember, Hermione found herself in the middle of a vineyard. She'd never visited the place physically, but it was familiar to her nonetheless. Setting off down the hill, she found exactly what she'd been hoping for. A wooden creature towered over a row of vines. It was taller than Hagrid, and a crimson light emanated from its eyes and mouth.
Ignoring the waves of curiosity and sadness coming from the creature, Hermione strode forward and, without hesitation, placed a hand on its long cylindrical torso where the wood was raised as part of a spiraling pattern that matched the grip of her actual wand perfectly.
"Can you understand me?" Hermione asked, speaking quickly.
A voice answered, not out loud, but in her mind, "I… I can?"
It sounded like a question, but Hermione had no time, she took it as confirmation and spoke again, "I know you've been working for her, but I also think you might have been coerced. If she's giving me access to her power, can you help me take more of it?"
Her wand said nothing for a moment, and Hermione nervously imagined Madam Pince dumping her unmoving body into the potion as she tried this insane plan.
Finally, her wand answered, "Channeling more is danger. The map, the trunk, the shield, I give small bursts. I Let through only what girl's spirit can handle."
While Hermione wished to ask a hundred different follow up questions, she instead issued a command, hoping it might work, "Let it all through now!"
In the ringing silence that followed, Hermione whispered, "Please… she's going to kill me."
When she opened her eyes, Hermione found a concerned and annoyed Madam Pince kneeling over her.
The old woman's palm continued to drip blood, a few drops falling onto white robes as she muttered, "The potion should have healed your concussion, but what if Poppy was right? What if she really does have seizures and the blow to the head triggered an episode…" Pince trailed off, noticing Hermione's open eyes.
Hermione shouted, "Incendio" at the same moment Pince said "Stop".
Hermione froze in response to Pince's command, and the older woman flinched in response to the jet of fire that shot from Hermione's wand, but the flames were not aimed at her. Her spell shot under Pince's arm and hit a grandfather clock with a shattered face. It ignited, but the fire wasn't too serious, nothing a single bucket of water couldn't put out.
Madam Pince sprung to her feet, spinning and pointing her own wand towards the clock, extinguishing the fire. Hermione had been hoping for this reaction after seeing Pince lovingly repair the mirror Neville had broken. Hermione found that she could move, a vibration running through her that seemed to shake off Pince's mind control. She took the opportunity to roll to her knees, then clamber to her feet.
As she stood, Hermione felt a sense of resignation from her wand, accompanied by words that echoed slightly in her mind, "This may kill you, but so would my master. Good luck."
Hermione had just a moment to appreciate her wands improving grammar, then she screamed in agony. It felt to Hermione as though lightning ran through her veins instead of blood. Every nerve in her body screamed with pain, pressure building inside her chest that threatened to tear her apart from the inside. Panicking, Hermione tried to channel every bit of the overwhelming magic out of her body. She lifted her wand, and from its tip, a cone of fire emerged. It blasted forward, spreading until it hit the floor, the ceiling, and eventually, slamming against a section of the room's circular walls.
In the aftermath of her spell, almost a quarter of the room was on fire. Hermione felt drained, more tired than any gym class or sleepless night of reading had ever left her.
She looked at Madam Pince, who blinked rapidly, stunned, repeating one word over and over, "No, no, no, no, no."
As Hermione watched, her hands began to shake, drool ran from the corner of her mouth, and her wand fell from slack fingers to the floor. The fire continued to spread, consuming wood, paper, canvas, and anything else that could burn. Pince sagged to the ground, her wrinkles growing deeper, hunks of thin white hair dropping off her scalp, skin still attached.
Hermione felt conflicted. She had done what she needed to do to survive, but the sight before her was sickening. She almost moved to help Pince, but with the older woman's skin now falling off in increasingly large sections, Hermione wasn't sure what she could do. The smoke coming off the burning objects grew thicker, distracting Hermione and making her cough. Glancing around, she saw that fire had spread through most of the room.
Hermione stumbled towards the room's exit, half blinded by clouds of smoke that burned her lungs, making her cough harder. Eyes watering, Hermione tried to keep moving, but her lungs screamed in protest and her head spun. She tried to use the Bubble-Head Charm she'd read about, but it did not work.
Dropping to hands and knees, Hermione crawled forward as she continued to let out hacking coughs, throat raw from inhaling hot gasses. Already exhausted, overwhelmed by heat, and unable to breathe, her strength gave out. Hermione was consumed by a storm of choking black and blistering orange.