Author's Note: thanks once again to my beta for editing this so it is readable. Quite a few people have asked me to email then when I update, but haven't left an email address. If you wish me to notify you when I next update, please leave your email address when reviewing. As ever, suggestions and comments are welcome.
Chapter five
"As I said before, we have two main options. We can either use the Charm – risky, but ultimately better under the circumstances, or we can brew the potion and do it that way. Although the potion is less of a risk, how're we going to obtain the ingredients?" Hermione, Ron and Harry stared down at the books lying in a heap around them on Hermione's bedroom floor. "Remember," Hermione went on, "if this goes wrong, we're doomed and if someone finds out…" Shrugging, she scowled at the two boys sitting opposite her, both wearing frowns of deep concentration.
"Well," Ron began. "Let's look at this thing logically. If we use the charm, it will be bloody painful, to say the least, and what if it goes wrong? Remember, Hermione, we aren't half as good in Charms as you are. I don't know about you, but I'd much rather take a potion that we can ensure we've brewed correctly. C'mon, it makes sense, you know it does!"
"Yeah, I suppose so," Harry agreed reluctantly, "but as Hermione said, where the hell are we supposed to get things like unicorn blood, Boomslang skin and all the other stuff the potion requires? I for one would rather not raid Snape's stores. I still haven't forgotten the last time we did that, and even now, I swear Snape still remembers."
"Yeah, but he never proved it was you who threw that firework into Goyle's cauldron. Cor, do you remember Malfoy's face? He could hardly lift it because his nose was so big!" Ron sniggered and standing up, wandered over to the window. "If only there was someone we could ask…" He fell silent and stared unseeingly out at the blustery day.
Well there's noone we can ask - it would be too much of a risk." Hermione snapped, "Honestly, if someone finds out about this, we'll get expelled. The whole point of us becoming Animagi is to give us some kind of protection against… well, you know! No, we're just going to have to risk it. It's lucky that you two were able to question Sirius about it that time during the Christmas holidays of our fifth year to find out all you could. That in itself has saved us a good few years' work. Otherwise, we'd have to sneak into the restricted section of the library every night just to find out how to do it. Now that we know that, all we need to do is to decide which method we're going to use. As I said before, I still think the Charm is probably better, but as you pointed out Ron…" she lapsed in to a thoughtful silence, her chin propped in her palm.
This discussion had now been going on for the better part of an hour, and even now, they had not come to an agreement as to which method to use to become Animagi. Hermione smiled to herself. It was strange, she thought, this project had been something she had intended to research, but Harry and Ron had beaten her to it.
They had sat her down at the start of their sixth year, asking if they could have a talk. They had explained their intention of becoming unregistered Animagi, and had showed Hermione the parchment bearing an abbreviated version of their discussion with Sirius, two years ago. She had stared at the parchment and when she had asked why they had not shown it to her before, Harry had bitten his lip and admitted that only now was he able to think of Sirius without pain engulfing him, so he had hidden the parchment at the bottom of his trunk. They had insisted that she, too, become an Animagus. They had all started the prescribed training which all had found extremely difficult. Only now did they feel confident enough to attempt the actual transformation and therefore, after having taken 'Animagi: Methods and Means' from the restricted section of the library at night whilst wearing the invisibility cloak, the three of them were now discussing the best way of undertaking this risky transformation.
"You know, Hermione," Harry said after a while, "I know that you'd rather not risk the potion, but overall, I think it's probably safest. Surely there must be a way to take the stuff without Snape noticing?"
"Well, I suppose so, but I just feel so bad about…" She was cut off by a snort from Ron, who, turning to face them reminded,
"Yeah, and how about all the times Snape's picked on us in class? Not to mention all the points we've lost just for being in Gryffindor? And that isn't taking into consideration what poor Neville has had to suffer at that git's hands!"
Hermione bit her lip in thought, a habit she had acquired over the years that she was trying to get out of. No matter how she looked at this problem, she could not find a satisfactory solution, but as Ron had pointed out, the potion was probably less risky in the long-term, even if it did mean another trip into Professor Snape's store cupboard.
Sighing resignedly she capitulated, "OK, OK, I get your point. But I swear, if we get caught…"
"If we get caught, we'll tell Dumbledore we threatened you at wand-point to help us, and take all the blame okay?" Ron grinned broadly at her.
"You know full well I won't let you do that!" Hermione retorted, scowling at him. "What we need to do is get him out of the way for a while. That way, we can take the ingredients without anyone being the wiser. I think that since I know where his storeroom is, I'd better be the one to do the stealing. You two will probably knock something over," she rolled her eyes. "Once I get the ingredients we need, we can use my bathroom to brew the potion."
XoXoXoXo
Hermione tried not to shiver, but the cold seeped into her robes, making it impossible for her teeth not to chatter in the chilly atmosphere pervading the dungeons. Peering around the corner, she wished Harry would hurry up. At this rate, she would be here all night. Pressing herself close to the stonewall of the passage, she strained her ears for any sound from the office, but there was nothing stirring. Stifling a yawn, she was just wondering what to do, when the door to the office was suddenly flung open, and an angry looking Professor Snape strode out, muttering beneath his breath. Knowing she had only seconds to act, Hermione jumped up and ducking, slipped into the gap between Snape and the door. Moving sideways, she slid into the office just as the door shut with a snap. Not stopping to look around, Hermione made straight for the half-open door of the storeroom. If possible, this tiny room was even colder than the corridor outside. Hugging Harry's invisibility cloak more tightly around her, Hermione bit her lip nervously. Going in, she looked up at the rows upon rows of shelves of potions ingredients lining the walls of the small dank room. Swiftly, she collected some bicorn horn, Boomslang skin, unicorn blood, and a bat spleen. It was difficult, she thought, to stop her hands from shaking; a combination of nerves and cold was making it hard for her to handle the ingredients.
After what felt like an eternity, but was only mere minutes, she finally stepped back breathing a sigh of relief. The first step of this dangerous operation was complete. The front of her robes were bulging, as this was where she had stored the precious ingredients. It was a good job, she thought ruefully, that the cloak was hiding the bulge from sight or else she would get some very odd looks, especially from the male sector of the population. She tried not to think of what Snape would say if he found out anyone had been in his storeroom. Once again, she checked the ingredients on the shelves, but as she already knew, she had left no incriminating evidence; all the jars and bottles were in their correct places and she had spelled her finger marks away.
Going out into the office, she stationed herself by the door awaiting Snape's return. She thought of the letter Harry had sent, pretending to be Professor Trelawney. After a long discussion the Trio had decided to forge Trelawney's handwriting and sent the letter to Snape, using one of the school owls, which made it extremely difficult to trace the origin of the letter. This, she had to admit, had been a brainwave on Ron's part.
She could just imagine Snape storming up to the North tower, only to be told by a dreamy Trelawney that he had been mistaken – she had sent no letter, but that thanks to her crystal ball, she had already known that he would pay her a visit. Snape would no doubt be furious, and would think that being the airy-fairy kind of witch Professor Trelawney was, she had probably forgotten what it was she wanted to discuss with him. Hermione hoped Snape would never find out that the letter had been a fake, and comforted herself with the thought that Harry had made a very good job of forging the divination teacher's handwriting. By now, Hermione guessed that Snape would probably be on his way back, in all probability with steam coming out of his ears. Bracing herself, she waited, and after a while, the sound of swift footsteps coming towards the office reached her. Then, as she had expected, the door was flung open and she slipped sideways out of the musty office. She straightened up in time to see the white pinched face of Professor Snape glowering at the empty corridor before slamming the door to his office with a bang.
Relieved, Hermione was just about to take a step forward when something hit her hard from behind, sending her sprawling on the cold stone floor. A shout made her whip round to stare in horror over her shoulder. Draco Malfoy was picking himself up from the floor and looking wildly around. As she watched transfixed, he knocked loudly on the door to Snape's office. The door was once again flung open and there stood Snape scowling. On seeing Malfoy however, his face relaxed and to her dismay, she heard Malfoy ask,
"Professor, I was just walking along, when I hit something which tripped me up. Has anyone just been to see you?"
"No, there hasn't been anyone to see me. Did you see the person?"
"No, that's it. I didn't see anyone. Whoever it was just disappeared, and I didn't get a look at them."
"Interesting, very interesting," murmured Snape thoughtfully. "Did you feel what it was?"
"Well, it was solid, if that's of any help!" Malfoys eyes roamed round the dimly lit passage as he spoke.
"Hmm, I wonder if this has something to do with Potter? I can just sense it…" A threatening sneer laced Snape's voice as he spoke.
Hermione waited to hear no more. Turning, she ran as quietly as she could up the corridor, her heart doing a drum roll in her chest. What if Snape decided to check his store cupboards and put two and two together as only he could? Dashing up the stone steps to the entrance hall, she collapsed behind a pillar, her chest heaving with fright as well as lack of oxygen. She leaned against the pillar, and wiped perspiration from her brow. Only now, did she notice her heart was beating very fast and her breath was coming in short, shallow gasps. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to calm down. The operation was over, and if she didn't get back to Gryffindor tower soon, she would probably get caught by Filch or Mrs Norris, his filthy cat, and get sent to detention for the next month before she could utter a word in her own defence. And that was not taking into account what Snape may do to her, if he were to find out that she had pilfered from his stores.
XoXoXoXo
"Well, that looks absolutely disgusting!" Ron announced, scrunching up his nose and staring down at the mud coloured mixture at the bottom of the cauldron. Straightening up, he massaged the small of his back, which by the look of him was causing him a lot of pain.
"Are you all right, Ron?" Hermione asked, "What's wrong with your back?"
"I hurt it last night – I think I stretched a muscle or something when doing those exercises."
"But I thought you had got the hang of them. I mean you were fine with them before, so what happened last night?"
Ron scowled before saying, "Well, if you must know, I didn't do them for a day or so – you know, too much work and stuff – and well, last night, my back protested. You know how it is."
"Well, I won't even bother telling you what I think of that! You could have done yourself a major injury. Those exercises are there for a reason…"
"Skip the lecture okay?" Ron snapped, "I know full well what those damned exercises are for, but we all make mistakes once in a while, so stop behaving holier than thou!"
"Why don't you both shut up?" Harry snapped, "We are all on edge here. Taking our nerves out on each other won't get us anywhere. Now, let's do what the book says and go through the exercises one more time before drinking the potion."
Scowling, Hermione turned away, and going over to an empty corner of the bathroom, lay down on the cold hard floor. She closed her eyes trying to empty her mind of everything so she could concentrate on the series of exercises she Ron and Harry had been practicing over the last year and a bit. In her mind's eye, she pictured her legs getting longer and longer. The stretching feeling in her legs told her she was doing it right, and without having to look at her legs, she knew that they had grown well over a foot. Once again she pictured them, now back at their normal length. Opening her eyes, she was relieved to see that she had done the exercise right.
A sharp poke in the side made her turn to see one of Harry's arms jammed in to her ribs. His eyes were tightly closed and it was obvious that he was doing the same exercise as Hermione, but using his arms instead. Grinning, Hermione moved away from him and turned her attention to her own arms. Repeating the exercise on her arms, hands, feet, hair, and back, she finally sat up to see Ron and Harry still with their eyes shut. As she watched, Ron's mop of red hair seemed to shoot out of his head and then back in again. Both boys opened their eyes at the same time, and getting to their feet, stretched before turning to her.
"It's now or never," Harry said nervously.
"OK, are we ready?" Ron asked wearily.
"Yes, I think so," Harry replied. "I think we've done all the preparations right. I don't know about you two, but I just want to get this over with."
"Remember both of you," Hermione reminded the boys, "if it all goes well, it will take about ten seconds for each of us to turn into our given animals. All we have to do to transform back is to imagine our human selves again. The exercises should have made us more supple, so the transformation should be easier."
This remark was met with a snort from Ron, who grumbled, "Well, if we aren't supple now, I don't think we'll ever be. We've been practicing growing and shrinking various parts of our bodies for the last sixteen months! No wonder not many people are thick enough to want to become an Animagus!"
Ignoring him, Hermione ladled large dollops of the sludgy mixture into three glasses and handed one each to Ron and Harry. "Ready?" she asked nervously, "One, two, three."
At three, not stopping to think, she pinched her nose with one hand, and downed the potion in two gulps. Immediately, she felt herself shrinking, but this time rather than just one part of her, her whole body seemed to be folding in on itself. There was a strange feeling all over her body as though hair was sprouting on it, her limbs felt as though they were being pulled in ten different directions at once and even her face felt on fire. She could see nothing – there seemed to be a strange mist in front of her eyes, which was not helping in the least. She could no longer feel her arms, and wondered if she was slowly dying. 'Oh god,' she thought, 'this is just like the Polyjuice potion.'
She could feel the hardness of the floor through her feet, and for some reason, was finding it difficult to grip the smooth floor. As suddenly as it had started, it was over. Hermione stood stock-still and reluctantly opened her eyes. She could see the marble tiled floor but was having problems in making out the shapes of the individual tiles. 'This is strange,' she thought, turning her head. Frowning, she took a tentative step forward towards the full-length mirror, but could feel her feet sliding beneath her. Finally after several unsuccessful attempts, she reached the mirror and stared at her own reflection. Looking back at her was a smallish Tawny Owl, whose eyes were large liquid pools of astonishment, residing in a round face. There were cream, pale brown and gold patches adorning the whole of her body and twisting round, she could see her wings; wide and rounded, hanging limply on either side of her. She glanced down at her legs and saw talons protruding from her feet should be – no wonder she was having difficulty gripping the smooth floor. With out thinking, she turned to where she had last seen Ron and Harry, but they were no longer there. Instead, a very confused looking Peregrine Falcon stared back at her, the white on its cheeks and chin accentuated by the dark grey of its plumage. Its long powerful wings were folded close to its body and from where she stood, Hermione could make out its buff coloured under parts.
'That's odd' she thought, 'I can see every detail of the Falcon, but I can't make out the shapes of the tiles on the floor.' Standing beside the Peregrine Falcon, looking just as confused was a golden Eagle, the light from the window glinting on its pale golden brown head. The rest of its body was dark brown, with a cruel looking hooked beak and yellow talons similar to her own and those of the Peregrine. Raising its broad wings, the Golden Eagle took flight and soared effortlessly over to the mirror, where Hermione was standing. It stood next to the owl and stared at its own reflection in the mirror.
"Look at you both," Hermione gasped, but the only sound that came from her mouth was a "Hoooohooohoho". As she stared, the beak of the Peregrine twitched as though it was grinning, and then it too raised its powerful wings gliding over to join the other two at the mirror. All three raptors gazed at their reflections, and eventually, the Peregrine turned and flew away from the mirror, landed nearby, and closed its eyes, ready to transform back into Ron or Harry, Hermione was not sure which. As Hermione watched, the upper part of the falcon's body stretched, shooting upwards, and the wings changed into arms. The long slender legs and feet elongated in to those of a human and a mop of red hair shot up from the crown of the bird's head. A second later, Ron stood grinning down at them, looking a bit pale but otherwise perfectly calm.
"Well, it'd be nice if you transformed today. Honestly you're like a couple of women, the way you're gazing at yourselves like that!" he regarded them haughtily, a superior smirk playing about his mouth.
Harry then stepped away from the mirror and he too, transformed back into his human shape. Closing her eyes, Hermione pictured her own body, and before she knew what was happening, felt her limbs stretching, and the wings on either side of her body reshaping themselves into arms. Just as she began to wonder when it would all stop, she found herself standing in front of the bathroom mirror staring at her own reflection.
"That was absolutely amazing!" came Ron's voice from behind her. "Don't you think so Hermione?"
"Yeah, I suppose so. I just can't believe we did it, all three of us!" she agreed feeling slightly stunned. "Harry, what's wrong?"
Harry bit his lip, but unlike Hermione and Ron, was not smiling.
"Well, I know this sounds stupid, but I was hoping I'd turn into a stag like my dad, or something similar, instead I'm an eagle."
"Yeah, and what's wrong with that?" Ron asked frowning.
"There's nothing wrong with it," Harry replied, "After all, eagles are fast and powerful birds, but I don't know…" he shrugged.
"Look at least we've done it, I mean we're all pretty powerful birds and after a few practices, we'll be able to transform within a second. Not many people can achieve this, Harry!" Hermione smiled at the bespectacled boy, trying to pull him out of his gloomy train of thought.
"Yeah!" agreed Ron. "Just imagine, scratching Malfoy's eyes out, if he annoys us!" Ron grinned. Instead of grinning back, Harry sighed, before turning away and fixing his gaze on the window.
"Harry," Hermione said tentatively, "I know it must have been a disappointment for you not to become a stag like your father, but you're a different person from him. You must remember that. You do share fifty percent of your genes with him, but you aren't him and that is what you have to keep in mind. You have no control over the animal you become, and eagles are noble birds as well as pretty fast flyers."
"I know," Harry nodded sombrely. He turned from the window to face his best friends, "You're right of course, but I've spent so much time fantasizing about being a stag, it'll take a while to get used to the idea of being a different animal."
"Cheer up," Ron consoled, "we can have loads of fun! I mean we're all birds and can fly over the grounds whenever we feel like it once we have mastered our wings, and this way, we hopefully won't meet any unpleasant creatures, which may be lurking about the grounds and forest at night." Even Harry, smiled at this enthusiastic piece of logic, and Ron continued, "Of course, we're going to need some practice in flying, but I'm sure we'll all get the hang of it soon, and then we'll be away!"
"Yeah, I suppose so," Hermione agreed doubtfully, "I just hope Snape doesn't realise it was us who took all that stuff from his stores again, because if he does, I don't want to think about the consequences."
"Maybe we can scratch his eyes out too," Ron suggested hopefully, "You know, kill two birds with one stone and all that!"
"What we need to do now," Hermione rebuked shooting a meaningful glare in Ron's direction, "is practice transforming until we can do it without the help of the potion. According to the book, the more we practice, the less painful it's suppose to be. Therefore, I think that should be the first thing we need to concentrate on. We can worry about learning to fly later, once our bodies aren't wracked with pains."
"I suppose so," grumbled Ron wincing, as he attempted to stretch his protesting muscles.
XoXoXoXo
The crowds surrounding Ron, Hermione and Harry were inching their way towards the Great Hall. It was dinnertime and Hermione could feel weariness descending on her. Like Ron and Harry, she had spent most of the previous day practicing changing into her Animagus form and back again. The first few times, she had needed the potion, but now she was able to manage the transformation without its aid. To boost her morale even further, it was becoming easier to transform – she could now do it without wincing in pain.
"Bloody hell," Ron grumbled, "At this rate, we won't reach the Great Hall 'til tomorrow! Why're they all moving so slowly?"
"Why Weasley? Are you that hungry? Oh but I forgot, your parents don't have enough money to even feed you, let alone buy you decent robes!" a drawling voice sneered. It was Draco Malfoy with Crabbe standing behind him.
Ron Harry and Hermione all turned to face Malfoy, glaring at him.
"You take that back you little…" Ron began and without thinking, pulled out his wand.
Hermione groaned inwardly and before Ron could do any damage, leaned over to try and pull the wand out of his hand, but his grip was too tight.
Pulling out her own wand, with the intention of disarming him, she had just raised it, when Crabbe's grating voice shouted, "Accio!"
Hermione's wand flew out of her hand into Crabbe's outstretched one. Grinning maniacally, he turned triumphantly to Malfoy. However, just as he opened his mouth to sneer, he let out an ear splitting yell, dropping the wand. He clutched his hand, moaning in pain. From where she stood, Hermione could see that he was in considerable pain – the wand must have discharged some negative energy and hurt him in some way. Ducking, she quickly grabbed up the wand, stuffing it into her robes before anyone could stop her. Around them, students were pointing at Crabbe, who was now whimpering in pain.
Grabbing Crabbe's hand, Malfoy held it up to the light, and Hermione could see a large red scar running across the middle of his palm. There was a collective gasp and people began backing away from the five of them. Turning to face Ron, Hermione and Harry, Malfoy demanded, "Who was it? Which of you did this?"
Before anyone could say anything, Crabbe pointed a shaky finger at Hermione crying, "It was her, the mudblood! She burned me with her wand!"
"What's going on here?" Everyone turned to see Professor McGonagall striding towards them, an angry expression marring her face. 'Brilliant,' Hermione thought, 'this is all I need.'
"Mr. Crabbe, what has happened to your hand?" McGonagall now asked.
Predictably, Malfoy spoke up saying, "Professor, it was Granger. We were just walking along, when they—" he pointed to Ron, Harry and Hermione, "—just turned on us! To defend himself, Crabbe took Granger's wand, which burned him!"
"Is that true Miss Granger?" the stern looking witch, turned to Hermione.
"Not at all, Professor," Hermione defended herself, "I didn't do anything. Crabbe just grabbed my wand without my consent, and for no reason."
McGonagall peered down at her, a suspicious look in her eyes. Finally, she said, "I do not know why the wand would behave like that. However, I'm sure there is a rational explanation for it. But getting back to the matter at hand," she paused, looking intently at the five students before her, "I believe I've made myself clear about this – you are old enough to behave like proper adults, and you are all well aware by now, having been at this school for almost seven years, that it is forbidden for students to perform magic in the corridors. There's simply no excuse for this. I will have to take five points from each of you for this, and let this be a warning to you," her eyes narrowed menacingly behind her glasses, "If I ever see any of you brawling again, it will be fifty points and a detention! Mr. Crabbe, report to Madam Pomfrey to get your hand treated." With that, she turned and marched off, carving a path through the gaping students.
The students began to disperse now the drama was over, but Hermione stood rooted to the spot. She felt slightly sick; her wand had burned someone because she didn't like them, but more than that, it had happened in public with most of the student body watching. Mr Ollivander, had expressly told her not to let anyone see how powerful her wand was and now…
"Hermione, are you all right?" Harry's voice intruded into her thoughts. Looking up, she saw him frowning down at her a look of concern on his face. "Don't worry, that git got what he asked for! But how did you do that?"
"That Potter, is what we'd all like to know," Malfoy broke in.
"Get lost, Malfoy," Harry spat, "Hermione, come on, let's go!" So saying, he took her arm and began leading her down the marble staircase, into the Great Hall, which was packed with students.
Hermione felt numb. She could not believe what had happened and desperately wished she had not taken her wand out of her robes in the first place. She was only vaguely aware of going through the motions of filling her plate with food and attempting to eat. The food felt like sawdust in her mouth, almost choking her. Around her, everyone was talking excitedly about the incident, and speculating in loud voices as to how her wand had managed to burn Crabbe without her instigation. The more she listened to them, the more she could feel ice-cold dread taking hold of her insides. Finally, when she could stand it no longer, she pushed back her chair and got up from the table, telling Ron and Harry she wasn't hungry. She had to get away, to think about this and to assess the damage. She was so absorbed in her own thoughts, she didn't notice Malfoy get up from the Slytherin table and leave the Hall at the same time as herself.
It was only as she headed up the marble staircase, that she became aware of someone following her. Spinning round, she saw him standing on the stairs, a few steps below her, and a look of suppressed triumph on his face. She felt her blood rung cold; this was exactly what she had been dreading, someone such as Malfoy putting two and two together.
"What do you want?" she asked in a tight voice.
"You know what I want," he replied quietly. Reaching her, he took her arm and turning her about, forced her to walk ahead of him up the stairs. She could feel real panic beginning to take hold; why had she left the Great Hall without Ron and Harry? Everyone was in the Great Hall and the chances of a teacher seeing the two of them were very remote. She had to keep calm and be rational; he couldn't hurt her. After all, what was the worst Malfoy could do? Hex her? Not even he would be that stupid to risk getting caught by Professor McGonagall after that incident in the corridor.
"Let me go!" she said, trying to wriggle free from his steel-like grip.
"Granger, I'm much stronger than you are. I could just as easily pick you up, throw you over my shoulder, and get you to come with me. If I were you, I'd come quietly."
"You complete git, how dare you do this?" she retorted but to no avail.
"Easily," he drawled, calmly pushing her before him into a deserted classroom. Shutting the door and leaning against it, he asked, "Can I see your wand?"
"No, you bloody well can't!" she snapped. "If you really feel the need to acquaint yourself with the structure of a wand, then I suggest you look at your own! After all, you do have your own, don't you? Or did Mummy and Daddy think you couldn't handle one?" she smirked.
"I'm trying to keep this friendly Granger. So I'll ask you again; can I see your wand?"
She became aware of the note of underlying steel in his voice. Maybe it would be better to let him see it; after all, what could he deduce from the wand alone?
"Why do you want to see it?" she asked biting her lower lip. "It's just a normal wand, just like yours." As she spoke, she allowed her eyes to travel around the disused classroom. Desks were piled against the walls and everything was covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. There was no chance she could get out using one of the windows, which looked as though they hadn't been opened in an age.
"The wand, if you please," he demanded politely, his eyes never leaving her face. She felt like a cornered mouse, as she reluctantly drew out her wand and handed it to him. Raising it to his eyes, he peered closely at it, his gaze travelling from one end to the other, as though he were trying to look right through it.
"You know, I was positive your wand was made of Vinewood, but this one is made of a hardwood… mahogany or teak." To emphasize his point, he tapped the wand against his palm. "Yes, this is definitely a hardwood. Where's your old wand?" he asked, looking up at her.
"What old wand?" Hermione countered, frowning. "What're you going on about Malfoy? Honestly, you aren't making any sense!" She gave a sigh of irritation, "I have had this wand from the age of eleven. If I could have my wand back now, please!" She held out her hand for the wand but Malfoy merely ignored it.
"For an old wand," he murmured, stroking his index finger along the grain of the wood, "it's remarkably free of scratches. There is neither a scratch nor dent in sight."
Hermione traced Malfoy's finger with her eyes. "Look, just give me my wand back, all right?" she tried to reason with him, knowing that it was futile. As if suddenly realising the incongruity of it, she snapped, "Anyway, who told you my wand was made of Vinewood?"
Ignoring the question, Malfoy looked at her curiously; "So tell me, Granger, how did you manage to burn Crabbe like that?" As he spoke, he handed the wand back to her, but still did not move away from the door and her only means of escape.
"I put a burning charm on my wand," she lied, "you know as well as I do, what the charm does; it stops people like you from using wands which do not belong to them. I got the idea from a book, and by god it has paid off!"
"If what I know is correct, burning charms as you call them, require the caster to be a very powerful witch or wizard. The spell isn't easy to cast, owing to the complex incantation and wrist action involved when casting the charm. Why would you want to put such a spell on your wand? What is it about your wand that it needs such a form of protection?"
"Honestly, so many questions, Malfoy," she retorted. "Really, at the rate you're going, you'll have to be admitted to St. Mungo's for over-taxing your brain!" Hermione sneered. "Firstly, you have no right whatsoever to stand here and question me as though you're some figure of authority, and secondly, the burning charm is a commonly used form of protection, employed by many of the wizarding population as a means of ensuring their wands don't fall into the wrong hands, or weren't you aware of this fact?"
"Of course I was aware of it you little idiot," he snarled, "Who isn't? No, there've been some very strange things going on concerning you, and I'll be dammed if I'll rest before I find out what you're up to. Believe me, this is by no means over!" so saying, he turned, yanked open the door and left the room in a swirl of black robes.
Hermione stood staring blankly at the open door and then she turned, left the dusty room and trudged up six more floors to Gryffindor tower and Sanctuary.
Passing through the full common room, she climbed up the final spiral staircase, undid the wards on her room and threw herself on the bed, burying her face in the pillow. Behind her, the door closed with a loud and welcoming snap; she was all alone to scream and cry as much as she wanted. For a while she lay there motionless and spent, her eyes gritty with unshed tears. Slowly she felt her defences begin to crumble, and the tears were finally allowed free rein. They streamed down her face in a torrent of salty water, and her body was wracked in shuddering sobs.
Why her? Why couldn't it be someone else who was different - who had been pronounced gifted at the age of four? Who was forced to compete with children at least two years older than her? And even now, when she thought all was going well, and she was finally fitting in with her peers, why had she been told that she was a Lestintia with remarkable magical powers? It wasn't fair! It simply just wasn't fair. All she wanted was to live a normal life, and be normal with nothing to worry her, but instead she had this to deal with. Furthermore, to add to the stress, there was absolutely no one she could talk to, to confide her fears in, and from whom to seek advice or help.
She must have lain there for over an hour before her thoughts finally arranged themselves into a semblance of some order. Pushing her hair away from her face, she could feel her usual optimism taking control of her once again. She wondered what Malfoy had meant by his last threat, but whatever it was, she would rather die, than tell him about her wand.
She had the certain feeling that his father had probably put him up to this. She could just imagine Lucius Malfoy's hurt pride and need to lash out at someone. No doubt he had asked Draco to find out what she had been doing in Diagon Alley that day, so that he could use the information for his own nefarious purposes. Well, he would be sadly disappointed; no one would ever find out what she had been doing that day, and especially not the Malfoys! Getting up, she went into the bathroom and splashed cold water over her face. Tomorrow evening, she would be starting her first lesson with the tutor Dumbledore had hired for the purpose. She was determined not to let Malfoy or his threats get to her, and hopefully before too long, she would learn how to control her extra powers and then Lucius Malfoy and his son would no longer be sneering! Smiling at this thought, she turned her attention to the mounting pile of homework she had neglected over the last two days. She wiped Malfoy senior and junior from her mind, as she prepared to tackle the weekly essay from Professor Binns.