Chapter Two: The Silky Voice.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the material written by J.K. Rowling or her publishing company.
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Hermione woke with a sudden start. She tried to sit up, but was so dizzy that her head fell back on the pillow. All of the places where her body had hit the stone steps ached like Merlin's balls. Her eyes hurt the first time she opened them, so she closed them, and then opened her lids again. Then she almost fell out of the bed in shock, for Albus Dumbledore sat in a chair on the side of her bed. "P-Professor Dumbledore!" She spluttered in surprise. Her professor smiled kindly, and she watched as he reached carefully for a box of Bertie Bott's every flavored beans.
She then gasped as she saw the large pile of sweets on the cart at the end of the bed. "It seems that Mr. Potter and Weasley let the details of last night slip and you have many admirers," Dumbledore said. He timidly cracked open the box, and began telling her a story about his earwax flavored bean. At first she listened to his tale with all the attentiveness required from a student of her caliber. Though slowly a dull throb began to pulse in the back of her head. Wicked emotions burned throughout her blood until the ruby liquid boiled within the scorching heat.
When Voldemort had tried to press himself into her body she could recall the thousands of whispering words. Each one viler, more contemptful than the last. Hermione was momentarily forced to close both of her brown eyes, for the mere sight of Dumbledore made the voices inflamed with black, fiery rage. "Are you quite alright, my child?" The headmaster asked concernedly. The girl did not respond, as the torrent of whispers grew into a tempestuous, screaming army. Slowly her wand hand lifted to brush the skin beneath her nose.
Dumbledore appeared more shocked than her at the river of crimson pouring from her nose. "Poppy," He called while standing to both of his feet, "Miss Granger is bleeding…" The harried old nurse bustled over to the bedside when the first scream erupted from Hermione's already raw throat. The muggleborn witch grabbed two fistfuls of bushy hair when suddenly the noises came to a very abrupt halt. Her breaths resounded within her intelligent head, as all other sounds became complete, and utter static. Then he spoke, a voice that would change her life forever.
'Prevent them from performing any more tests on your body,' The voice as silky as honey commanded, 'And the voices will stop.' Hermione Granger knew how moronic someone would have to be to listen to a voice in their head. Yet something made her listen. Not the threat, nor the river of blood pouring from her nose, but a premonition of sorts. This feeling in the pit of her stomach was so different from anything Hermione could ever recall encountering. So she opened both eyes, and decided to live in the moment without a book telling her what to do.
"Please," Hermione croaked, surprising the two adults as well as herself. Blinking wildly she opened her mouth again, "I-I just rem-r-membered last night. It wa-s up-upsetting." The mediwitch froze, glancing towards Dumbledore for confirmation. He stroked his long, white beard while those shrewd eyes made her wish she was never born. "Please Prof6essor," She pleaded, breathing quickly for composure, "The things I saw… It made me go crazy for a moment, I swear that's all."
Finally she appeared to have managed to reassured them both back into a more relaxed position. Though Dumbledore still seemed somewhat distrustful. He spent several more moments at Hermione's bedside until leaving to attend to unnamed affairs. The twelve year old hardly even mustered a farewell, as she was far too preoccupied with the thoughts dancing throughout her brilliant mind. Voldemort had tried to possess her, that was an unquestionable certainty. Hence, the presence of a voice in her mind could have been nothing but bad news.
Growing frustrated with her inability to answer any of the questions raging about her head she flipped to her side. Exhaustion shot through her body until her chocolate-brown eyes closed. However, even though Hermione Granger was now unconscious, something else lurked within her head.
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Hermione was beyond annoyed with Pomfrey, Dumbledore and Voldemort. First with Pomfrey because she was cruel to the point of refusing Harry and Ron visiting time during the day. Dumbledore for declaring that she needed more rest when she felt perfectly fine, in fact she was furious with him since she would miss out on her first End of Year Feast. Then finally Voldemort because he was a pureblood bigot who just had to go and ruin what had been a semi-happy year with possession and that damn stone.
What truly frustrated her to no end was that her confinement in the Hospital Wing meant there was no chance of going to the library. The library, her home away from home, could no doubt answer at least some of the questions raging within her skull. Slowly the girl came to realize that her proclivity for doing as adults told her to would accomplish very little. So with grave reluctance Hermione decided to take a risk which would have made even Ron proud. When Madame Pomfrey's back was turned the girl jumped from the bed, pulled on a pair of cotton robes resting neatly on the nightstand, and raced into the halls of Hogwarts.
She didn't stop when the mediwitch called loudly after her, nor even when her battered body started to ache. Hermione only came to a halt when both of her shoeless feet smacked within the bounds of the library. Bookshelves towered high above the girl's head while books flew through the air like birds. Letting loose a breath of relief she noted that Madam Pince was absent, presumably spoiling the end of term feast with her foul attitude. Now free to move much more slowly she perused the different bookshelves carefully. Herbology, astronomy, transfiguration, none of it mattered to her as she slunk deeper towards the more advanced selections.
Her brown eyes searched desperately for anything on possession until she finally found it. One book on a shelf located right outside the Restricted Section. Carefully Hermione pulled the tome out, and began to read the dusty pages. Possession, it claimed, was an art which required more precision than potion making. Only the most desperate of Dark wizards were willing to even dream of undertaking the tricky bit of magic. Many more useless details passed before the measly book came to a premature end. The muggleborn was about to slam it right back onto the shelf when something caught her eye. A reference page listing numerous, obviously darker books all focused on possession.
She glanced at the Restricted Section, wondering if there was any time to search for extra reading materials. Unfortunately Hermione was forced to decide against any such course of action. It was now late in the evening, and the feast would be ending sooner than she wanted. Turning back to the book before her the twelve year old realized she needed to do something unforgivable. The sound of the reference page being ripped from the book made her ears practically bleed, but there was no time to lament the crime she had committed. Hermione slid the book back into its respective spot before fleeing the library.
The hallways were deathly silent. In an effort to keep herself from thinking the girl started to hum her favorite song from the muggle world. Instead of heading back towards the Hospital Wing Hermione marched towards the Gryffindor common room. She finally came to a stop in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. "Pig Snout." The hinges creaked slightly as the portrait swung open to allow her entry. Hermione stepped into the luxurious common room appreciating the sense safety which practically rose like heat from all of the red colors.
Deciding that it would be best to go to sleep before her classmates returned Hermione wasted no time marching up the steps. By the time everyone was trudging in from the feast the muggleborn had showered, and fallen into an exhausted slumber. The reference pages stuffed beneath her pillow where no one could possibly discover what she had done to an innocent book.
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The girl sat up awake at five in the morning feeling sort of refreshed after her previous day. Her roommates lay sprawled across their beds nowhere near ready to wake up. Quietly so that they wouldn't stir she packed for the next hour and was relieved when she finally managed to neatly tuck her personal library inside its confines. She would need a much larger trunk before she could even consider coming back to Hogwarts.
Stepping out of the room on her tip toes the girl shut the door to the dormitory with a gentle click. Then she fled out of the common room before anyone would have a chance to catch her. She felt bad for not waiting until Ronald and Harry woke up but who knew how long that would take. Hopefully she could catch up with them at breakfast though. It was at least six-thirty in the morning by the time she arrived at her most secret of spots.
Few students ever bothered visiting the docks, all except for her of course. At the beginning of the year when everyone refused to even look her way Hermione spent excessive amounts of time staring at the Black Lake while writing essays. Then she befriended the Harry Potter, and found herself with no more need for a hiding place. Now the muggleborn found that she missed the days when no one had been willing to befriend her bookish self. At least then possession wasn't the chief most thought on her mind, nor could be she be called a book mutilator.
Hermione sat there for a very long time. Occasionally a Hippocampus, or bird would catch her attention. Then finally she jerked out of her haze. It had to have been at least ten in the morning, and she cursed herself for almost missing breakfast. In a wave of bushy hair the girl dashed up to the castle leaving the docks behind. She soon regretted ever believing that breakfast was worth dealing with the staring. The only news more prevalent than the fact that Gryffindor had won the cup was Hermione herself. The morning light shined through the windows of the castle and as she walked towards the Great Hall she felt the last shreds of anonymity burned away.
Other students were scrambling to the Great Hall for breakfast and they all stared at her as she passed. Hermione blushed fiercely, Harry and Ron had leaked exactly what had happened to everyone in the school and she was almost as big of a celebrity as her best friend. The-muggleborn–who-fought-Voldemort-and-lived, was her unofficial and very long, new title. Despite the stares she managed to make it into the Great Hall and ran straight to Harry and Ron. Both looked tired and were eating ravenously, but put their utensils down as she slid into the spot across from them. "How does it feel to have everyone asking you for an autograph Granger?" Asked Harry with a grin.
"Awful really, Potter," The girl sighed as she spread some butter on toast and piled it with bacon, eggs and leftover roast beef from the feast last night. All around her people were finishing, but she had no intention of leaving for that dreadfully long train ride without a full stomach. Harry and Ron finished, just as she had gulped the contents of her third glass of Pumpkin Juice, and were heaving their trunks to a standing position.
Hermione followed closely after them comforted by the silence that surrounded their trio as they left the castle. It was nice to be around people who didn't ask for an autograph, or stare at her like a statue. By the time they had reached the carriages to Hogsmeade she was finished with her mountainous meal. All three of them sat and watched from the window as Hogwarts vanished in the early morning mist. Then Ron began to talk to Harry about the Holyhead Harpies and Cannons. She sighed, and wished she had thought to take a book out from her overstuffed trunk.
The carriage came to a stop along with those of the other First Years and Hermione heaved her trunk out before Ron and Harry. All four of them trudged into Hogsmeade admiring the array of magical shops. Hermione noted the Ollivander's located near the train station mentally remembering that she was in need of a new one. As they walked towards the platform all of the nostalgia for that first night hit her like a bag of bricks, and she told Harry and Ron as much. All three, even Ron, fell into a serene moment of profound silence contemplating how much their worlds had changed in one year at Hogwarts.
They were quick to enter when the doors were finally opened, and were just moving into a compartment when two, third year boys grabbed her shoulder. "Can we have an autograph?" They begged. Hermione trembled angrily wishing that they would leave, for it felt entirely wrong. Third years shouldn't be staring at her as though she were the incarnation of Merlin. It should be the other way around. Yet, as she thought back on it she would never regret stepping into that dungeon, especially so long as it meant Harry continued to live.
"Oi, mates, leave her alone," Said the most handsome boy she had ever seen, "She clearly doesn't want two gaping fish asking for an autograph." The two boys turned tomato red and followed him shamefully as he walked passed her compartment. Hermione didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed that he didn't look at her whatsoever as he left. Trying to forget it she sat down with Ron and Harry, so that they could share their summer plans.
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The train came to a grinding halt, and no one, but Hermione was happier for it. During the journey people had pressed their faces against the glass to catch a glimpse of the muggleborn-who-lived. Harry got some attention though not even a quarter as much as Hermione. In fact, so many people barged in the compartment for autographs that she borrowed Harry's reluctant wand to ward Lock Spells on the sliding door. Upon their arrival to King's Cross Station Harry cast an Unlocking Charm marking their departure from the train.
Ronald introduced them to his parents before all parties involved watched as Harry was carted off by his atrocious family. Hermione had been suspicious during the year that Harry didn't have the best home life, but this just confirmed it. After Mrs. Weasley made her promise to visit in the future, and Ronald bid her farewell, she ran to her own parents hugging them both tightly. "How was your year?" Asked her father, for apparently she had gotten so caught up with End of Year Exams that she had forgotten to write them for three weeks.
She blushed responding with a quick, "Good." Then she towed them from the train station before any nosy classmates could ask for an autograph. When she was finally in the car the witch reclined into her seat feeling more relaxed than she ever had before.
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Thank you so very much to every single person who reviewed or followed. I have never had that explosive of a response from any of my fanfic stories and I appreciate it so much. I feel like except for the Prophecy this chapter was rather weak but don't worry.
Next chapter things will spice up and there will be lots of magic. I really enjoy wand choosing scenes and I have a really swell one planned. Finally, as for the pairing I was planning on making it more of a Tom/Hermione/Cedric thing with Harry as more of a friend. Anything can happen though and there won't be any real romance until she is at least a third year. I think of Harry as more of a brother to her but it isn't as bad of a pairing as Ron/Hermione though.
*This chapter has been revised.
Next Chapter: Muddy Honey.