A/N: Hello, everyone! How are you doing? This chapter has been a long time coming, so I'll be brief. I'd like to apologize for taking so long to update. I got vaccinated and had a bad reaction to it, then got the flu, then got Covid, one right after the other. So, I've only been coming back to feeling like myself for a week or so and used that opportunity to write what I could. This chapter ended up being on the shorter end, and here it is. Hope you enjoy it.


Hermione was dead.

She saw the monster of Slytherin, the basilisk. She looked it right in the eye.

So, she was dead. Of course, she was.

It didn't matter that she could feel her heart drilling against her ribcage. Her body just hadn't absorbed the information yet.

Right?

Because, if she wasn't dead, and she was looking directly at the basilisk's eyes as if it had stopped mid-strike and it was now looking back at her in curiosity, what was she?

A small noise left her throat as the great beast inched closer to her. The snake's snout came near her chest, and she could feel its breath against her skin. She tried to stay as quiet as possible, as still as possible, her eyes watering at the terrifying thought that maybe she would be eaten instead of stared to death.

But her mind pointed out to her that there was no aggression in its stance, there was only intrigue and curiosity.

The snake moved again, and Hermione saw, from the corner of her eye, the tall, dark outline that was her Potions Professor. Unfortunately, he had also caught the basilisk's attention and, in a moment that would both cause her an infinite amount of grief and prove once and for all her place in Gryffindor, when the snake turned its head towards the Potions Master, ready to strike, Hermione jumped in front of it, her small hands reaching for its eyes to try to stop the attack on her professor.

It was foolish. Downright stupid of her, but her body moved before she could think about it. And it worked. In a way.

The moment Hermione's hands made contact with the cold scales, she was assaulted by a thousand images and emotions. She saw and felt the inside of an egg and how it felt to crack it and make its way outside. She felt strong, gentle hands pick her up, him so big and she so small and frightened. The dark-haired man chuckled at the attempted attacks against him, his strange, hissed words calming her. Then, there was growing up, growing larger, learning to hunt, to talk back to the man, learning about the world, about her mission. She was to protect the school. The man left, as he did so often, but this time, not returning. Then loneliness. Waiting for him to come back. But he never did. So, she went to sleep, waking up from time to time, always waiting, always lonely.

Then, one day, a man came. A young man, with cold eyes, a honeyed voice, and angry words. But she was lonely, and he was compelling, and she made a mistake. A terrible mistake. Her duty was to protect the school and she put it at risk. And she woke up to his voice again, coming from a small redheaded girl, telling her to do bad things again. She couldn't refuse, but she couldn't do it either. So, she found a loophole. He told her to attack the students and she felt compelled to. But she made sure it was reversible.

And then, the girl. She had no protection from her eyes, but it did not matter. She knew how to control their gaze. Any basilisk worth their shedding learned how to, first thing after learning to feed themselves. It would not do to kill everything in sight, from friend to foe, from food to allies. The girl would be paralyzed, just like the others. She wouldn't kill a student again.

But then, she wasn't. The girl was fine. Scared, terrified, but fine and his claim had been challenged.

And then they touched and bonded.