Story Title: Wicked
Chapter Title: The Value of Friendship (2/?)
Chapter Rating: PG - for mention of death
Author's Note: Stay with me if this chapter seems a bit off. It has a few clues that I will need later on. Also, I created a spell. The translation is at the bottom of the page.
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I sink lower in my chair, and mentally leaf among my options for an apprenticeship following my graduation.
Transfigurations? Charms? Potions? Defense Against The Dark Arts? Better yet, Arithmancy.
"If I choose Charms, I'd play into my strongest natural ability," I reason. "but I could always use protection from some of the nastier hexes and curses. The War is coming to a head, and I need to be prepared. If the situation comes to the worst end, I could always become an Auror."
"Miss Granger," an exasperated voice sounds from the front of the classroom, as though this is not the first time my name has been called.
"Yes, Professor McGonagall?"
"It is wonderful to finally have your attention."
My cheeks tint at the admonishment.
"Would you please demonstrate for the class how to transfigure water into glass?"
"Su. . . sure," I reply hazily, my mind still on my apprenticeship choices.
I stare down at my glass of water, and try to concentrate on the entire week's worth of lessons on transfiguring liquids. I exhale as I pull my wand from its hidden confine inside my school robe. I grip the base of my wand, and point to the half-full drinking glass.
I sift my way throughout the entirety of my memories until I summon the water-to-glass incantation. I wave my wand through the air, "Vitreusum! (1)"
The water instantly solidifies into crystalline perfection that fills the bottom half of my assigned glass.
"Excellent work Miss Granger. I hope that everyone's attention to liquid-to-soild examples has improved from the lacking form it has been in this week. There will be a quiz next week. I strongly suggest that the majority of the students present in this classroom ensures that their Advanced Transfiguration textbooks becomes their constant companions. Use the last few minutes of class constructively. You are free to go when the bell rings."
Professor McGonagall strides to my desk to collect my glass, in a glass. She looks down at me and speaks so that only I can hear, "See me after class, Hermione." She smiles faintly at me.
"Yes ma'am, Professor McGonagall."
"And 10 points to Ravenclaw," she says loud enough for everyone to hear.
Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker, grins at me. I feel myself flush instinctively.
I notice that more than a few Slytherins are openly glaring at me, including Vincent Crabbe and Draco Malfoy. I also notice that Gregory Goyle's face does not hold the same irritated expression as his mates. In fact, for a moment, I believe that I can distinguish a ghost of an encouraging smile directed at me. It is gone too soon for me to be sure.
My eyes return to Malfoy and Crabbe. "Good, let them be upset. So much for their glorified Slytherin cunning. It didn't help either of them accomplish a complicated Transfiguration technique," I inwardly gloat with carefully cloaked satisfaction masking any outward traces of the thought on my face.
The bell sounds, and the low chatter in the classroom jumps to full force roar. Amidst the shoving and noisy conversation, a few pats on my back and well-wishing comments are thrown in.
"Way to go Hermione," Harry congratulates me. "We really should have pushed to have you Sorted into Gryffindor."
I beam my most gracious smile at Harry in return, "Aw, then Ravenclaw would have missed out on having me, and that is, dare I say it, unthinkable." I stage-gasp for emphasis.
"I can live with that knowledge," Harry assures me.
" I know that I certainly could. Good job, by the way," Ron commented moodily.
"Oh hush! Honestly, attempting to deprive Ravenclaw of sheer genius!"
Harry and Ron share a look before turning their eyes to me.
"Genius?" Harry teases. "I don't know if I would go that far."
I smirk at them again, "Hey, I'll meet you guys at the usual place, okay? I just have something to see to first."
"Okay," they exclaim together, jinxing one another as they do so.
"Jinx!" they call out together again.
"I said it first!" Harry proclaimed, nudging Ron.
"No, I called jinx first," Ron told Harry.
I dart my eyes between the two Seventh Years, who were currently behaving worse than they did their first year at Hogwarts, with amusement glowing on my face. I shake my head and whirl to face Professor McGonagall to gauge her reaction. I note the delighted expression that has settled across her face.
"If you do not mind, gentlemen, I do need to speak with Miss Granger in peace," the Deputy Headmistress interjected, breaking the growing momentum of the tiff.
I muffle my laughter at the ridiculousness of the entire situation through a forced cough, "Yes, I agree whole heartedly. Gentlemen, please take your disagreement elsewhere." A smile lingers on my lips, and the boys stare at me with mock anger.
"Well! If that's the way you feel. . . " Harry began.
"then maybe we will leave," Ron finished.
It is in this moment of comfortable silliness I realize how much I have come to care about them. My eyes remain on them as they shuffle to the exit, still carrying on their exaggerated spat.
I chuckle again and hear Professor McGonagall do the same.
"They are quite a pair," she says to me.
"That they are," I agree instantly.
"It's so nice to see you relaxed and willing to share a laugh with people your own age Hermione," she shoots a pointed glance in my direction.
I detect the leftover tremors of amusement that crinkle the corners of the older witch's mouth and eyes from my side view of her face. I close my eyes to even my breathing. I return my gaze to her completely when I have regained my composure.
"I know," I whisper sadly.
"Let's have a seat," she motions to the students' desks.
"Of course," I reply without thought.
Once we are seated, she resumes where she left off, "I value your intellect more than nearly anyone I can think of, but I was sincerely beginning to worry."
"About?" I ask her, concern lacing it's way through my voice.
"You Hermione. Knowledge obtained from books can carry you so far in the world outside of school and magic. I was surprised, and greatly relieved, when you became close friends with Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter. Though I know that some students prefer to find friendship within their own Houses, I think a breaking of initial expectation has been good for you, and them," she smiles maternally at me.
I feel the warm radiance of her expression caress every nerve ending in my body. It's times like these that I value her guidance and my friendship with her even more. She always knows precisely what to say, and when to say it, no less.
I thank her for her sentiment and tell her I believe the same to be true of our friendship.
"I suppose that you need to go now, but there is one other thing that I have meant to address since it took place."
I nod to encourage her to continue.
"Not only has this friendship been beneficial to the three of you on a more superficial level, but also you've helped them work through their grief. One does not simply bounce back after the loss of a close friend, especially Harry after his parents' deaths. Tabitha should have never been where she was," she stops to collect herself. "or she would still be alive today. I wanted to thank you for looking after my Gryffindors."
She reached out an elegant hand to squeeze my own. I return the gesture in earnest. I can feel the familiar prick of tears at the corners of my own eyes.
"I mourned her too Professor," I answer her mentally. "I knew her too, but what had to be done had to be done."
We clear our throats together and sit up straighter to reset the formality of the relationship.
"I guess I will be going now Professor." I tell her with six years of habit engraining the words in my mind and on my lips.
She nods politely, "I will see you in class Miss Granger. Do not be tardy."
She winks at me, and sweeps out of the room through a back door.
I grin to myself and march out into the hallway. My ears recognize the low woosh of a ghost's approach drawing near from around a corner to my right. I am excited to see that it is Ravenclaw's Grey Lady who appears a few seconds later.
"Hello," I greet her cheerfully, not expecting a reply.
She halts and looks at me as if trying to read me with her translucent scrutiny. "Hello," she replies cautiously.
I am too stunned to say more, and she whisks past me and out of the stiff silence.
"She spoke to me," I utter to the empty air.
Nearly Headless Nick floats through a wall, spotting me. "Hello!" he shouts heartily.
"Hello Sir Nick. You just missed it," I inform him proudly.
"Missed what?" he asks genuinely interested.
"The Grey Lady spoke to me."
"Yes, we do that sometimes."
"But the Grey Lady never speaks to anyone, not even her own Ravenclaws the way you do with your Gryffindors."
"Then perhaps she has seen something special in you for her to have done so. She does have the gifts of Divination and Legilimency after all. I must be off," he drifts to the wall opposite of him, leaving me as I was before his arrival, alone. Always, alone.
"Something special inside of me. . . " I repeat the words aloud. The words do not seem quite real. Maybe they do hold some truth.
I decide to keep the incident in mind when I remember that Harry and Ron are still waiting for me in Hagrid's hut. I hurry my steps down the hallway to meet them.
I burst out of a stone-arched doorway and into the sunlight. I laugh quietly to myself, letting the sun sun rays wash over me. I kick my feet through the grass as I begin to run to Hagrid's hut. Cloak whipping out and around me, I have a feeling that this may be the beginning of a wonderful school year.
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TBC
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(1) - Vitreusum -
Latin for "glass", more specifically "of glass",
"glittering", "glassy", and "transparent"