A/N: I would like to thank all of you who have added me to your story watch, author alert, or added my story to your favorites! It truly means a lot. Also, special thanks to belle, marie, Shamonti, and zypherblaze for the reviews. You guys are awesome! Now, onto the story :)!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the characters, locations, or cleverness. It all belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. Studios.
As Hermione emerged out of the portrait, she was greeted with grunts and startled yelps of surprise as a group of old men sitting around a table in the portrait shouted in displeasure. Hermione quickly jumped out from behind the painting, closing it.
"Sorry! Er—sorry! I didn't mean to disturb you," She said defensively holding up her hands as the elders in the painting shifted their furniture back to normal once more and began picking up the chess pieces that had fallen off their table. She heaved a sigh of relief as the protests had quieted to deep murmurs of disapproval.
Being out in the Hogwarts hallway, she noticed she was by the Great Hall entrance. With a silent nox, she put out her luminescent wand, tucking it safely in her robes. Her patrolling duties should be almost finished by now—as it was nearing midnight. She decided to make her way toward the Gryffindor common room.
"Alphard Corvus. Alphard Corvus… Alphard Corvus... Alphard Corv—"
"What was that, Miss Granger?" Hermione looked up startled and cut short at the voice of Albus Dumbledore. She breathed a sigh of relief that it was him and not Snape—or any other teacher—who may have become cross with her for making such a racket. She finally regained her composure.
"Oh, er… nothing, Professor. Just thinking of spells we might perform in Charms class tomorrow," She offered with a slight smile.
Dumbledore looked at her momentarily with a look of seriousness. He didn't buy it… But she was surprised when he smiled back with a twinkle in his eye.
"If you are sure, Miss Granger, I ought to be headed to bed now, as should you," he spoke, still smiling.
"Of course. Goodnight, Professor," She said more quickly than she would have liked.
"And you, Miss Granger," He offered with a tip of his head in acknowledgement. She ushered past him keeping a calm demeanor all the while continuously repeating Alphard Corvus in her head until she reached the Gryffindor dorms.
Had she not been so distracted, she might've noticed the weary look, clouding the tired body of one, Albus Dumbledore.
Although it was just six in the morning, Hermione sat near the fireplace already dressed with her books stacked beside her on the common room couch. Despite the fact that she was still tired from having to wake up so soon, her excitement about the start of term had helped to fuel her morning.
She had stayed up much of the night pacing near her window, still wondering who Alphard Corvus was. Although she hoped that the name would charge the recesses of her mind and she would receive an answer, nothing came to her. Eventually a grumbling Lavender Brown lead Hermione to finally trail to her own bed and get some rest—but not without writing the name down and shoving it in her nightstand first.
Hermione lifted up her new copy of Ancient Runes: Year 6 by Bartholomew Bliztess and began reading to pass the hour until she would be meeting up with Ron and Harry for breakfast in the Great Hall. She looked up into the low, flickering fire in the hearth of the common room fireplace. She tried to absorb herself into reading the book, but her mind kept wandering back to the thoughts of a certain prophecy and a certain name.
When the common room clock finally read six-thirty, Hermione shoved all of her books into her bag—casting a weightlessness charm on it to make the task of carrying it not as daunting. She then slung the bag over her shoulder, and exited the Gryffindor common rooms.
She walked down the stairs seeing only two students—a Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff—along her way. Not many students were awake and probably wouldn't be until seven thirty when breakfast in the Great Hall would officially begin. She decided she would use this time to visit the library to try to find information on the mysterious man in the secret passage portrait.
"Merlin, Granger. Why are you awake so early?" She heard the boy speak from behind her. She turned, seeing none other than Draco Malfoy leaning against the stone wall of the back hallway to the library she was in.
"Shouldn't I be asking you the same question?" Hermione retorted and rotated back around to commence her trek to the library. She could almost hear Malfoy sneering at her from behind. "Is there something you want, Malfoy?"
"No. I was just wondering why anyone in the right mind would get up so early before breakfast and begin studying when the term hasn't even started yet." Draco concluded with a disapproving shrug. He knew there wasn't any sensible reason as to why someone should be up this early at the start of term... and headed to the library, no doubt. Unless they were up to something… But then again, this was Hermione Granger; the girl who had truly surprised him in their third year by nearly knocking the blond-haired Slytherin cold.
"Well not everyone sleeps in until class starts, Malfoy. Some of us prefer an early start. Have you ever thought of that?" Hermione huffed, readjusting the shoulder strap on her bag, tired of his pointless interrogations. "If you don't mind Malfoy, I will be going off to the library now, unless you'd like to question why on earth I would do that also." Hermione stared coldly at him as he shot daggers from his eyes, a permanent frown pasted on his face.
Why does she always have to be so touchy? Maybe this whole mission in itself was a fool's errand. This stupid girl is going to be the death of me… literally. Draco walked until he stood towering above her. Hermione retracted slightly, disliking the proximity in which they were now placed. "What's wrong with trying to create a small conversation? Your kind really doesn't have any manners or civilities toward anything do they? Especially your superiors it seems…" He spat. Draco stared at her intently, wondering how she could even be considered an important link to the war that was now plaguing the Wizarding world.
"Manners…? Civility…? Who are you to talk to me about either of those! My blood will be purer than yours ever will be, Malfoy." She said in revulsion stepping towards him, sneering at his face.
"Purer…" Draco laughed coldheartedly, closing in on Hermione, causing her take a few steps back. "The mud that runs through your veins is thicker than that of the Forbidden Forest swamp. You will always be nothing but a pathetic… filthy… Mudblood."
Tears of anger and frustration threatened to seep out of the corner of her eyes, but Hermione held them back with all she could. She withdrew her wand and pointed it at the blonde haired boy.
"Expelliarmus!" Hermione shouted, pulling out her wand from her robes. The spell thrust Draco roughly through the air, causing him to land flat on his back on the stone floor of the hall. His breath audibly knocked out of him; he glared at the bushy-haired witch with absolute malice.
She straightened her back, now towering above him with the upper hand. "You know nothing of me, Malfoy, and you never will…" She stuffed the wand back into her robes as she felt tears threaten to leak out of her eyes. She shot a cold look at the stunned Slytherin, and continued on her way to the library.
Draco had not moved from his position on the ground—his head was still reeling from what had just happened. He stood up quickly, dusting himself off and looking around in case anyone saw his humiliation. He stood there seething, as rage continued to pulsate in him.
He quickly walked opposite from her direction towards the dungeons to calm himself before the mission became an utter loss.
Hermione entered the library. The quiet air, warm aura, and comforting smell filtered through her senses. Despite her frustration and upset feelings she had had moments before, they quickly began to fade as the she stared at the endless rows of books. Smiling inwardly, she gripped the strap of her messenger bag tightly. Time to get to work.
Hermione passed up the Charms, Divination, and Potions rows of the library and made a beeline for the People and Other Historical Figures section. Eventually arriving at her destination, buried deep in the back of the library, she sat down her satchel and stared upward at the book shelf towering before her.
She had no time, no event, and hardly any evidence that this being had once existed aside from a name and a portrait. She knew research would be daunting. Pulling Hogwarts Figures and Foesfrom the shelf, she quickly immersed herself into her studies.
Emerging out from behind a massive pile a books, Hermione sighed in disappointment; it had been nearly an hour later and after skimming through what felt like one hundred books, she had still came up emptied handed. Nothing on Alphard Corvus, the passage, or the painting had been found.
She began re-stacking the books in their rightful places, keeping down two she had yet to read through. Once she had completed her task, Hermione checked out her additional reads and exited the library feeling empty handed.
Hermione walked down the halls, passing a cluster of students along the way. She glanced at her wrist watch. It was almost official breakfast time. She clutched her library books tightly to her chest—eager to have a seat and research more while eating.
She entered the Great hall where many students sat at the four long tables that were already decked out with breakfast items of various sorts. She took place in the seat where she, Ron, and Harry usually sat at the Gryffindor table. She placed her belongings beside her in the floor and opened one of the borrowed books, commencing her studies. Moments later the Great Hall began to flood with students in their school robes.
"Hey, Hermione!" Ron said as he and Harry dropped their book sacks and sat down across from her. She flashed a quick smiled at them, trying her best not to stray from the sentence she had stopped on. Unfortunately, she knew it would be an inevitable feat and marked the page with a spare piece of parchment before spooning a large amount of eggs onto her plate and grabbing a few pieces of toast.
Hermione had tried to engage in the conversations circling the Gryffindor table, but continued to resort back to her ponderings on Alphard Corvus. Ron and Harry were so absorbed in their discussion about the upcoming Quidditch tryouts that she didn't worry too much about not talking.
"I still can't believe Cormac McLaggen is trying out this year," Ron scoffed as Harry nodded in agreement as they filed out of the Great Hall after breakfast. "If we get lucky maybe the git will fall off his broom before the first practice is over." Ron said mischievously. Usually Hermione would voice her disapproval in their schemes, but she didn't feel up to talking at the time.
"Yeah, let's hope that at tryouts today the wind will be in our favor and not in that of McLaggen's over-sized head." Harry snorted; he had never been one to enjoy the company of McLaggen, even if he was a good Quidditch player. "Anyways, we'll see you later Hermione."
She watched as Ron and Harry exited for Herbology down the left-hand corridor from the Great Hall, she felt relief as she turned down the opposite corridor. Finally able to fully absorb herself into her pondering, she hoped to cram in some more research during her first class.
Hermione walked in the general direction of her next class, daydreaming of the wild look resting in the eyes of the silenced, framed man. Had Hermione not touched the painting, she would have been for sure that he was playing a prank by not moving. Everything about the portrait seemed too life like to not be enchanted somehow.
Hermione glanced at her wrist watch quickly as the thought struck her. She cursed herself with a mumbled under her breath and redirected her attention to her destination, dashing quickly.
Hermione made speedily entered the History of Magic class room—all the while trying to slow her breathing rate.
"Sorry I am late Professor Binns!" Hermione huffed as she entered the classroom, her cheeks tinted pink from sprinting up the stairs.
"Quite alright, just take a seat," Professor Binns said lazily as he turned back towards the class. Hermione saw Draco sitting by himself in the front. He must've been late too. Hermione knew this because by choice, no one ever sat in the front, especially in History of Magic. She rushed to the front desk in the furthest right corner away from Malfoy and pulled out her book, quill, and parchment.
After taking an extensive amount of notes over the second raid of Gringotts, Professor Binns turned to face the remaining students that managed to stay awake apart from Hermione.
"Now if you will, work with your partners at your table to put these events in order from the raid itself to the arrival of the Ministry of Magic. Mr. Malfoy, you can work with Miss Granger." The class groaned. It was a rare thing when Professor Binns gave out an assignment, but regardless of this fact, hardly anyone was ever prepared for when he did.
Hermione leaned further back in her chair and looked over to Draco with a frown plastered on her face. He stared back, refusing to move from his spot to go sit with her. If he was expecting her to move, she was going to do the exact opposite. So she turned back to her books and began sketching out her timeline.
A few moments later Hermione heard the screech of a chair and felt the slamming of books down beside her on the table. A seething Draco Malfoy pulled out his book and writing supplies and began to scribble out the timeline, paying no regards to Hermione. Minutes passed as the two sat in silence, refusing to even merely look at one another.
"You're doing it wrong," Hermione stated plainly in frustration, not looking up from her parchment on which she was scribbling furiously.
"What do you mean I am doing it wrong?" Draco spat as he lifted his parchment, examining the timeline.
"The raid didn't occur in the morning, it occurred in the evening. And it didn't happen in the year 1843, it happened in 1847." She seethed looking at the written labels on his timeline. She heard Draco mutter something unintelligible as he withdrew his wand and cleared the spaces with a flick, re-writing the material. Hermione grinned to herself.
She continued to delicately draw the timeline (extending it an extra page than necessary), but stopped short as she began to feel a queasy sensation easing its way through her stomach.
"What's wrong with you, Granger? Hanging out with Weasley so much finally got to you has it?" Draco scoffed as he watched Hermione's face begin to flush from color. He scooted back further in his seat away from Hermione in fear that she may vomit on him.
She managed to shoot a grimace at her partner before reaching her hand up to her forehead. Sadly, she couldn't decipher whether her hands were as cold as ice or her forehead on fire. She tucked a curly strand of hair behind her ear in attempts to allow more air to reach her face. The increasing nausea led Hermione to rest her head in the palms of her hands—blocking out the bright lights filtering through the window.
"P-Professor Binns, can I go see Madam Pomfrey? I don't feel too well…" Hermione said shakily; she could feel the small beads of sweat forming at her hairline. She cursed herself for not eating more at breakfast—she had been too distracted. But she also couldn't help but feel relieved at the same time as the sickening feeling continued to rattle in her stomach; had she eaten more, she probably would have already vomited.
"Yes, of course." Professor Binns stared at her intently as if this were possibly the most exciting thing that had happened in his class in years (which, in fact, it probably was). Hermione stood up and hastily placed her parchment inside her book and shoved it into her bag. She wobbled unsteadily as a dizzying sensation clouded her vision. She grabbed onto the nearest thing she could find in an attempt to steady herself, consequently unaware that she had just clutched onto her enemy's wrist.
Draco felt the sheer coldness of her hand on his wrist as he recoiled slightly from the iciness of her touch. He knew at once something was very wrong.
"Granger?" He said uneasily, as all eyes were now on Hermione. Grabbing onto her messenger bag, she attempted to throw it over her shoulder, but it didn't even budge. She felt herself weaken as the numbing spread to her legs. Her head began to pound with a pressure that pulsated throughout her temples.
A white-hot burning began to flood every vein in her body. Hermione felt as though she were being burned alive from the inside out. She obliviously gripped Draco's wrist even tighter as the agonizing invisible flames spread through her. She couldn't even begin to give a name for this sensation she was feeling. All she knew was that if she ever could name a feeling belonging to that of dying—this would be it. The feeling of when the reaper slowly closes his scythe over one's life—cutting it short.
Hermione felt smothered. Her hopes of recovery faded from her vision as doubt poured in. Is this what if feels like to die? She felt tears springing into the corners of her eyes from pain or fear—she did not know.
She gasped for breath as she gave in—allowing the flames to consume her… allowing her vision to deceive her... allowing the darkness to greet her…
Hermione spiraled downward toward the floor as the endless black encased her entire body. She fell back, hitting the unforgiving, stone surface looking much like a fatality… much like a casualty of a deadly poison… much like the victim of a basilisk.