"Can you imagine it? Burned at the stake for being a witch. How positively horrible." Hermione mumbled, having left the Room of Requirement to find some food in the Great Hall, "I mean, I know it happened. But what a terrible thing to go through."
"Glad they don't do it anymore," Ron mumbled, hands tucked into his jacket as Harry kicked a piece of fallen wall which echoed against the floor, "to bad that blood purity bullocks is still a thing though."
"Language, Ronald," Hermione chided, though her heart wasn't really in it as they wandered the familiar dark halls, "even so, it's strange that my family magic skips so many generations before reappearing, don't you think?"
Shrugging his shoulders, Ron didn't have a comment as Hermione exhaled, glancing up as Harry swiveled on a heel and walked backwards to talk to them.
"What I didn't know is the sorting hat can actually tell if someone is magical. I thought it just chose houses."
"The hat is an artifact of Gryffindor's; no doubt charmed by him as well. Supposedly he was skilled at very advanced spells; many of them were quite impressive,"
"Like the box?" Ron asked, "that wasn't able to be opened until today."
"Right, Ronald." Hermione agreed, her jaw clenching as something caused the hairs on her neck to suddenly rise. Thinking one of the ghosts was merely passing through the corridor, she stopped and turned to look behind at where they had come.
Nothing.
"Everything ok, Hermione?" Harry asked, noticing her distraction as she glanced about nervously and pursed her lips. Turning back with a response in her mind, she jumped several paces at the horrible face which loomed just over Harry's right shoulder.
His mean, black, snake like eyes peered at her past a ferocious, drawn scowl. Emerald robes glinted in what little light pierced the shadows, while long spindly fingers tangled around a haggard, crooked staff. Her right arm flared as she clutched at it, grunting in pain.
Slytherin.
Hermione breathed out sharply as Ron grabbed her shoulders and she focused on him.
"Hey, what's wrong? What did you see?"
"N-nothing." Shaking her head and swallowing, Hermione sighed heavily and clenched tighter at her skin, "I'm overwrought. I think I'm seeing things."
"What was it?"
"I...I'm not sure. A shadow, just there," Hermione lied, nodding to a corner as Harry pulled his wand immediately.
"I'll check it out."
Squeezing her eyes closed to shake the vision away, Harry vanished around the corner as Hermione forced herself to uncoil. No need to get the boys worked up over something they couldn't see. They dealt with that in second year, and now wasn't the time to be hallucinating or seeing dead founders.
"Bloody hell, Hermione. Your arm!"
Feeling Ron as he gripped her wrist lightly and pushed at her sleeve, his eyes were deeply concerned.
MUDBLOOD
The scarred words carved by Bellatrix were red and bleeding again after weeks of healing, puckering painfully at the edges, "what happened?"
"I-I must've scratched at it," Hermione stuttered, wrenching her arm away and pulling down her sleeve with a hiss, "I'm fine."
"No, you don't get to do that." Ron mumbled, his tone dangerous as he looked into her face, "c'mon, we're going to Madame Pomfrey."
"No, Ron, really it's nothing."
"Rubbish. We either go together, or I carry you. Your choice."
"There's nothing around the corner," Harry interrupted, jogging back into view, "just Moaning Myrtle flooding the bathroom as usual."
"Wait, we...we're on the second floor?" Hermione croaked. The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was on this floor, just around the corner where Myrtle was. Feeling the blood rush from her face, Ron wrapped his arms around her as she suddenly felt woozy.
"Alright, that's it," scooping his arms under her legs, Hermione squeaked as she was hoisted against a broad chest, "to the hospital wing."
Hermione wanted to protest, but both Ron and Harry were looking determined to coddle her. Sighing, she cast a weary glance over Ron's shoulder. Her heart shuttered at the sight of a figure looming at the end of the hall, his stare glinting like a flash bomb in the dark as she quivered and tucked into her boyfriends chest.
And she thought Professor Snape was the most intimidating man in the castle as a student.
Zoning out a bit as they walked, the opening of the hospital wing doors drew her attention back to the present.
"Oh for goodness sake, you three aren't even students anymore!" Madame Pomfrey chided, standing from where she had been working on charts, "what happened? Anything broken?"
"No. Hermione...erm, had a dizzy spell in the hall just now," Harry fumbled for her, "she scratched up her healing arm when she fell and it's all red again."
"Oh, very well. On the bed."
Gently setting her down on one of the cots, Hermione felt Harry pull off her shoes as she instinctually pulled her knees up under her, sitting right in the middle of the mattress with a boy on each side. Madame Pomfrey's gaze softened a bit, but she held out her hand, "ok Miss Granger, let me see your arm."
"It's really not necessary..."
Before she could finish the sentence, Ron had her arm held out, and forced the sleeve back to reveal the scar. Hermione winced at the sight of it, and Madame Pomfrey's brows furrowed as her fingers gently kissed the skin. The pain was immense, worse even then when she had first received the letters. Hermione hissed and made to pull away, but Ron kept her arm out and firmly stationary.
"This looks much worse then a mere scratch," the woman chided, "it's clearly infected, and causing you great pain. How long has it been like this?"
"Erm, I dunno," Hermione lied again, "I don't really notice it anymore."
There was more unhappy noises from the healer as she worked around her desk, collecting necessary potions. Harry was studying his shoelaces awkwardly, while Ron was examining her, "what?"
"You saw something," he mumbled quietly, as to not be overheard, "we promised no more secrets 'Mione. Don't you trust me?"
"I do," Hermione pleaded, "I trust both of you, truly. But...it just...he reminded me of something I don't want to remember."
"He?" Harry queried, brows popping up past his scar as Hermione made a 'tell you later' look as Madame Pomfrey returned and began disinfecting and wrapping the wound.
"Drink this as well," she insisted when she was finished, "should help with that dizziness. Have you eaten?"
"No, that's where we were headed." Ron provided, making sure Hermione drank the potion in its entirety.
"Well, I want you to stay a bit longer and rest if you need. I'll have something brought up for you three. I swear I should name this ward after you,"
Shaking her head as she vanished out the doors — no doubt to find an elf to bring food — Harry and Ron waved their wands to pull the privacy screens and cast a silencing charm around the bed.
"Ok, Hermione. What happened?"
"You remember when I told you I can see the founders?"
The boys nodded as Hermione sighed and ran a hand across the back of her neck, "I saw...I saw Salazar Slytherin, back by the second floor bathroom. And when I did, my arm just started burning."
"My scar didn't hurt," Harry mumbled, eyebrows furrowed as he felt the line which had begun healing once Voldemort was dead.
"He wasn't Tom, Harry," Hermione shrugged, "I don't know why I felt Slytherin's presence, but he makes Snape look like a beauty queen."
"I get that he probably startled you appearing like that, but you were terrified Hermione," Ron insisted, squeezing her hands as she worried her bottom lip, "there's something else, isn't there?"
"I...yes. I never told you what...what being petrified was like," She admitted with a hard sigh, "god it was the same feeling. Like someone was following me, breathing right up against my neck. And I haven't told anyone this, but I...I saw the Basilisk. Just for a moment before everything does dark."
"You saw it?" Harry asked in surprise, "you mean in the mirror, right?"
"No. No, Harry. Penelope had the mirror as she was wondering what I was doing with it. That thing was right in front of me. I looked right at it," Hermione admitted finally, watching the color drain from both her companions faces, "when I saw Slytherin just now, there was this flash where I was looking that snake in the face all over again."
"But that's not possible," Harry insisted, "Hermione, one look and you'd be dead."
"I know. I've been thinking about it for years. But then the war and everything happened, and we had to kill Horcrux's and I just kinda...you know, forgot about it till just now."
"Blimey," Ron breathed, "this is just getting more complicated by the second."
"This is why I didn't want to open the box in the first place!" Hermione hissed frustratedly, "it's a Pandora's Box. You open it, and everything goes to hell,"
"Language, Hermione," Ron chastised, receiving a slap to the chest and a watery smile as the three jumped when the screens and charm were pulled aside. Madame Pomfrey had returned, along with Headmistress McGonagall.
"Well, I suppose things don't change that much after all," she Scottish woman sighed, though a smile was threatening to come to her lips as Hermione glanced up at her guiltily.
"I-I'm sorry for running away like that, Prof-Headmistress. I was stressed, and I just needed some time..."
"Yes, Miss Granger, I understand. I actually came to offer beds to you for the night, as it's getting rather late."
"We'd be happy to stay, Professor," Harry answered for all of them, "Gryffindor Tower?"
"Yes. Password is Capitas Veritem. Do try and stay out of trouble while you're here? Honestly, it's like you three are magnets for this kind of thing."
Hermione wanted to bring up that McGonagall was the one who invited her in the first place, but bit her tongue as the Headmistress gave curt nods and vanished. Madame Pomfrey summoned platters of sandwiches, broth and salad as she ordered them to eat and soon vanished as well. Making sure she really was gone, the boys sighed as Hermione played with her hair.
"Good thing the Headmistress can't take away points anymore," Ron laughed, pulling his girlfriend closer to him by the waist, "don't worry about it, 'Mione. The Basilisk is dead, we saw it's skeleton ourselves. And we'll get out of here first thing tomorrow. Right?"
"Yeah," watching Ron tear a sandwich in half for himself, she snuggled closer to his chest and pulled the parchment belonging to Gryffindor from her pocket. Accepting her own triangle of food from Harry with a smile, she once again began to read, losing herself to the writings of Godric Gryffindor.
