Alas, a new chapter. Not as much a delay as the last, but still not as quick as I would like. I have discovered I have a bit of an editing issue. By that, of course, what I mean is that I am awful at editing. I had an editor once upon a time. Sadly, I made the mistake to allowing her to be one of the many people I let go over the years in an attempt to preserve a familiarity that simply was not healthy. She was correct at the time, and she is correct now. Those wrongs have since been righted, but in the time that it took, I lost more than an editor, I lost a wonderful person. I have had a few others help me edit since then, but none compared as either an editor or individual. So for you, little Canary, I shed a tear.
But I digress ... Another chapter awaits ... Enjoy ...
- Chapter Six -
Snow Storms and Lesson Plans
It was a cold snowy Sunday morning after Hagrid's surprise return to Hogwarts. Hermione's old friend looked far worse for wear than the last time she had seen her gentle giant of a professor and groundskeeper. He, of course, laughed off his bruises and abrasions in a manner that would characterize anyone else as mad, but defined Hagrid more perfectly than any words Hermione could put to paper.
Informing Hermione, Ron, and Harry on the details his absence, his visit with the giants, and his unfortunate failure to gather their immediate support, it appeared very evident something was being left out. Before they could discovery what it was Hagrid was not telling them, however, their visit was interrupted by an unscheduled and unwelcomed visit from Professor Umbridge.
The oppressive professor made no effort to hide her repugnance of Hogwarts' burly instructor, immediately exhibiting her authority and rendering her passively aggressive threats. And while Hagrid remained as pleasantly optimistic and lovingly unknowing of the true danger he was facing in regards to his continued employment at the school, Hermione was not ignorant of this truth. Neither were Harry or Ron, who both offered to accompany her on her trudge through the knee deep snow this Sunday morning on her way to Hagrid's hut. But Hermione refused their offers, reminding them of the tremendous amount of homework they had let compound. Although less than cheery, the two acknowledged this encumbrance and remained behind.
Passing through the hordes of students skating, sculpting various creatures in the snow, and bewitching snowballs to inflict impressive assaults on opposing makeshift forts, Hermione snaked her way down to Hagrid's humble hut, intend on ensuring he does not get sacked due to his less than traditional lesson plans.
Climbing onto the stoop in front the large weathered wooden door, Hermione rapped soundly. After a few moments of no answer, she looked up and saw that there was a fire burning inside, indicated by the thick smoke emanating from the chimney. Several more rasps with no answer left Hermione puzzled. She thought it possible Hagrid had stepped out. After all, he had been away for quite some time. No doubt there many things of which needed tending around the grounds. Still, early on a Sunday morning, and with his hearth fire burning? Odd.
Confident Hagrid would appear around the corner at any moment, Hermione waited patiently, every so often pacing back and forth from the garden to the front door. Time passed slowly as it often does when one is waiting. More so when one is waiting in the cold.
On a trip back to the front door from a pace to the garden fence, Hermione saw a familiar figure walking along the path at the base of the hill towards her, glancing occasionally at the chaos taking place on the snowy landscape around them. An instinctive smile washed over her face before a sudden secondary emotion of anxiety and fear.
"What are you doing?" she called out in a hushed terse whisper.
"I'm walking," Killian answered simply. "I would have thought that rather obvious."
"There are people everywhere," Hermione argued, pulling Killian to the side of the hut, hiding from view as best as possible.
"Look around," Killian said, extending his arms and gesturing to the surrounding area. "Absolutely no one is paying attention. You've been standing here for over twenty minutes. I've not seen a single person cast you so much as a casual glance. They have much better things to do at the moment. Of course, it you make a scene, I imagine that might turns some heads," he added with a smirk.
"That's not the point," Hermione began. "What if some—Wait … You were watching me stand out here in the freezing cold for over twenty minutes?"
"I didn't actually check my timepiece," Killian answered. "But I would say yes, give or take. I had to ensure it was safe."
"I'm still not convinced it is," Hermione argued, hating that she was essentially asking, against all desire, for Killian to leave.
"No one is going to see us," Killian assured confidently.
"That you, 'Ermione?" came a familiar bellowing voice.
"Except Hagrid apparently," Killian added, his expression of confident certainty melting away in an instant.
Hermione spun around to see Hagrid standing just at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, blanketed in snowfall, still covered in the welts and bruises she had seen the previous day. Although now seeing them in the light, some appeared fresher than others.
"How did he just sneak up on us?" Hermione whispered quietly.
"How does that man sneak up on anyone?" Killian asked in return, equally dumbfounded.
"Ain't 'dis just a surprise, then," Hagrid went on, walking towards the two students who were fervently attempting to come up with a believable story to explain their presence together. "What'd bring yeh down 'ere on a day like we got going? Brought a friend with yeh, I see." Hagrid eyed Killian, suddenly quickening his pace and stomping over after clearly seeing the Slytherin colors Killian was adorning. "Now 'ang on," he growled, looking to Hermione. "This one givin' yeh trouble?"
"No, Hagrid," Hermione assured. "It's all right."
"Yeah?" Hagrid asked, seeming doubtful. "All right, if yeh say so. Well then, what'er yeh two doin' 'ere?"
"I …" Killian started, then hesitated, "… I'm not entirely certain at the moment."
Hermione was almost amused with Killian's reaction to being in presence of her imposing and overly protective friend. Seeing him at such a loss for words was a rarity to say the least. Seeing him not only stumbling over his words, but visually shaken, however, was an absolute gem.
"I borrowed a book," Hermione explained. "He was merely checking to see if I had finished."
"A book?" Hagrid asked with as much doubt as previous.
"Yes …" Killian still seemed a bit hesitant, but fell into line. "A favorite of mine, in fact."
"And which one is that?" Hagrid asked.
"Men Who Love Dragons Too Much," Hermione went on flawlessly, then turned to Killian. "Sadly, I don't have it with me. But I'll return it as soon as I return to my common room.
"Shame," Hagrid said, now smiling broadly, having both accepted Hermione's explanation and finding a sudden bond with Killian. "That's a good book there. Dragon lover, are yeh?"
"Absolutely," Killian answered, although it was difficult to tell whether or not this was a truth or merely Killian displaying his very Slytherin skill of believable lies. "Quite fascinating creatures. None other like them."
"Right on that," Hagrid agreed. "Did yeh know I 'ad one once?"
"I did not," Killian replied.
"Norwegian Ridgeback," Hagrid said proudly. "Hatched it from a wee egg. Was only this big," he went on, indicating a small size between his hands. "Remember little Norbert?" he asked of Hermione.
"Yes," Hermione answered, remembering quite well the night Norbert hatched from his egg, as well as the moment Ron was sent to the hospital wing with a venomous dragon bite not long after. "He was very lovely."
"How did you come across owning a dragon egg?" Killian asked, now seemingly genuine interested. "The rarity and expense alone make them an impressive commodity."
"Well," Hagrid began. "Long story to that. But no matter, couldn't keep 'im. He's in a better place now. A very happy dragon, he is."
"I'm certain he is," Killian said, retreating a step and starting back towards the path leading back up the hill towards Hogwarts. "Alas, it appears you two have business to attend."
"Nonsense," Hagrid dismissed. "Pair of you got a chill, no doubt. Inside with yeh, Fire's warm. Fix that up right well."
With that, Hagrid waved Killian on as he stepped past Hermione and entered his hut. Hermione glared at Killian as he rather sheepishly approached the door alongside her with a simple shrug. The gesture drew a swift elbow to the ribs from Hermione as the two entered and made themselves as comfortable as possible in the significantly oversized chairs for their average sized bodies. Taking off his snow covered coat, Hagrid stoked the fire for a moment before sitting in an even larger chair hung with various animal skins.
"Sorry fer being a bit gruff out there," he said to Killian with a grunt as he got comfortable in his seating. "Just saw them Slytherin colors and all. What with 'Ermione being a Gryffindor, figured there might be a bit of trouble."
"Not at all," Killian said. "Understandable. Hostilities between the Houses being as they are."
"Meant no 'arm by it," Hagrid explained apologetically. "Been round a long time, is all. Seen a bit much not to notice when things look a bit off, if you know my meaning."
"Unfortunately, yes," Killian agreed.
The idea that a customarily recognized convention regarding the relationship between the Houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin even existed was something of a sore spot with Hermione. What bothered her more was how readily both Killian and Hagrid accepted this abominable generalization. However, her primary disconcertment was the fact that she not only shared in this negative bias and belief, it was these very perspectives that had defined the manner in which she and Killian carried on. She wished it were not so. She wished she was above such general perceptions. Be that as it may, deep down she realized it matter not what she did or did not believe, it was individuals in the surrounding world who held them to this standard. It was a standard worth fighting against, but not a battle in which she wished to engage at the moment. Whatever it was that Hermione and Killian shared, it was not something she wished to risk losing. Not yet.
Hagrid glanced between Hermione and Killian for a moment or two, his usual broad and contagious smile beaming across his face.
"Would yeh look at what we got 'ere?" he finally said, slapping his knee and gesturing to the two students who looked back at him in silence. "A Slytherin and a Gryffindor right 'ere, in my home. And not fer detention. If someone had told me I'd see the day … Well, I'd of called 'em a liar." He leaned in towards Killian. "You though," he went on, waving a finger as if pulling a thought from his head. "Seen yer face, always quiet, keepin' to 'yerself and all … Can't right remember yer name."
"Killian Finn," Hermione spoke up before Killian could offer a response, an action she immediately regretted as she was met with curious stares from both Hagrid and Killian.
"As she said," Killian said after an awkward pause that Hermione was certain Killian engaged in purposefully before redirecting towards Hagrid. "And it's all right, professor. I have not actually had the pleasure of taking your class … as of yet," he quickly added.
"You're a Finn, aye? …" Hagrid mused, sitting back and pulling at his beard. "Can see the resemblance now. I remember yer sister right well. Bright a witch as I ever saw. Like you 'Emione. Top of her class," he went on with a nod towards Hermione. "Remember your father too. Proper as the day is long, that one. Mother just the same. Ravenclaws, the whole clan of 'em if I'm right."
"Yes," Killian said with same manner of suppressed regret Hermione recalled when he spoke of his family's House lineage on the night they first met. "We're from a long line of Ravenclaws. I fell a bit from the tree in that regard."
"No shame in carving yer own path," Hagrid assured with a laugh. "Been makin' a name on yer own, so I hear," he added. "Heard yer name on my way to see Professor Dumbledore just last night. That Slytherin … Killian, isn't it? they said. Got their eyes on yeh, sounds like."
"Who?" Hermione asked with a sudden burst of curt emotion. Again she had reacted instinctively and was met with the stares normally meant for someone who had inserted themselves into another's conversation. In truth, she almost felt like she had done so. Where had that come from? And why did she suddenly feel completely bare, as if all eyes in existence had suddenly focused on her?
"Can't say," Hagrid admitted as if he had somehow said something wrong. "Just caught my ear as I walked past."
Killian stood and adjusted his robes, now appearing almost as uncomfortable as Hermione.
"As much as I do appreciate your hospitality," he said, "I really must head back. I have a great number of things to attend to and have taken enough of you time. Incidentally," he went on, gesturing to the bruises about Hagrid's face, "were you visiting an old friend while on leave?"
"Old friend?" Hagrid asked, perplexed by the question.
"Looks like you might have been tussling with Norbert," Killian teased.
Hagrid laughed and slapped Killian on the shoulder, not even noticing that he unintentionally slammed Killian into the small side table alongside his chair in the process.
"That'd been grand, wouldn't it?" he asked in merriment. "Me and Norbert lockin' claws again? Nothin' so excitin' as that. But a good story just the same. Truth is, I just came back from—"
"Hagrid," Hermione interrupted. "Have you put any thought into your lesson plans now that you're back?"
"Lesson plans?" Hagrid asked, seemingly thrown off by the sudden and complete change in subject.
It was the third time Hermione had spoken up either instinctually or emotionally, she had yet to determine which. If it was instinct, it was bordering on overprotective and distrusting. If it was emotion, it was a confusing and polarizing tempest she had never experienced. Either way, Hermione was growing tired of the awkward silences and suspicious eyes she felt she received every time she said a word.
"I just imagined that with you having been away, you may not have had the opportunity to plan properly," Hermione explained. "I thought perhaps I could help you get organized."
"Nice thought and all," Hagrid said dismissively. "But I got plans enough to get started."
"I'm certain you do," Hermione agreed cautiously. "Just the same, I've brought along a list of ideas I thought could help. Safe ideas," she punctuated.
Hagrid's face twisted, his nose crinkled, and his eyes rolled. "Safe?" he dismissed. "What yeh mean by that?"
It seemed as though nothing that Hermione said in the last several minutes had come across as she intended. If not for her fear of losing Hagrid due to the near militant power the Ministry had given Professor Umbridge in recent months, Hermione would have almost certainly given up and left at this moment. Given the gravity of what was at stake, however, escape was not an option.
"What I'm mean is things are different now," Hermione explained. "You have to be careful with how you handle your class. And while Professor Grubbly-Plank's lesson plans are not exactly exciting, they are—"
"Boring is what they are," Hagrid bellowed. "Silenced fwoopers, jarveys, knarls … You tell me who in their right mind would rather study knarls than chimaeras? No one, that's who."
"You have chimaeras?" Killian asked, now sounding as though he was the one intruding on a conversation.
Hermione was becoming thoroughly frustrated with Hagrid's dismissive reactions. She knew how dangerously close Hagrid was to being sacked. She knew how close he was before he had even returned to the school. He embodied everything the Ministry was looking to eradicate from within the establishment of Hogwarts, particularly his unwavering loyalty to Dumbledore. The passive half-giant simply did not see the danger. Of course, what more or less could be expected from a man who once named a large vicious three-headed dog Fluffy?
"Wouldn't that be somethin' if I did?" Hagrid mused. "Can't get my hand on them eggs. Rare as they come, and more than a handful of coins."
"No doubt," Killian agreed. "But you did manage to find yourself a dragon egg. That is as much a rarity as any other. So there's still hope," he punctuated before heading towards the door. "As for my book. …" he went on, glancing to Hermione, "… I imagine I will see you in passing at some time or another. Maybe then …" He did not finish his thought, instead simply trailing off and backing towards the door.
"Yes," Hermione said, trying to address the comment in the least conspicuous manner possible. "I'll be sure to return it you."
Killian offered a moderate bow, part proper, part theatrics. No matter the reason, Hermione smiled. It was a simple gesture, a simple joy. And not something that could be interpreted too deeply by anyone watching. Just an amicable farewell.
The door opened and closed, marking Killian's departure with a blast of cold air and flurry of snowflakes. Before the flakes has even settled, Hagrid leaned over toward Hermione, suddenly serious.
"Mind yerself with that one," he warned.
"What?" Hermione asked, puzzled by Hagrid's sudden concern.
"Not sayin' he isn't a good fellow," Hagrid explained. "Seems decent and all. But I wasn't lyin' when I said I heard things 'bout 'im. Not all 'em good either. Dumbledore told me 'bout some trouble they'd been having with the Slytherins this year. Like most years, I thought. They don't exactly mingle well with the other houses, as yeh know. No, he says. This year it was in the house itself. Some tussle between the students. Real violent like, as I hear. And that boy's name was right in the middle of it all."
Hermione had a sudden flashback to earlier in the year when, like Hagrid's now, Killian's face was covered in welts and bruises. The same sickening feeling she felt after finding Killian alone with his father's Howler near the atrium washed over her once again. All she had to do was let it go, walk away from Daphne Greengrass and Adrian Pucey. Instead, she acted rash and out of character. And Killian paid a price for it. In truth, several people paid a price, some heavier than others.
"Yes, I've heard the rumors," Hermione said in a fairly convincing dismissive manner. "Not that I pay them any mind. I'm certain they've been exaggerated."
"Don't know 'bout that," Hagrid disagreed. "Hard to exaggerate puttin' a student through a stone wall. Although as I heard it, he was defending himself. Right well he did, too, if yeh ask me." Hagrid paused abruptly and glanced to the ceiling. "Don't think I was supposed to tell yeh that."
That was almost a certainty. Hagrid's absence when the event took place in the Slytherin House would likely have avoided him any Unbreakable Oath, if the professors were even sworn to one. However, it seemed unlikely Dumbledore would have wanted Hagrid to be sharing what occurred in the bowels of Hogwarts' dungeons on that cool autumn evening with anyone, let alone students.
"No matter though," Hagrid went on. "Yeh know now. Defendin' or not, when a person puts another through a wall, that's a person yeh mind. Don't want to see yeh caught in something is all."
"Thank you Hagrid," Hermione said with a forced smile. "But Killian is barely an acquaintance. I just borrowed a book."
"Good," Hagrid said, sitting back with a smile. "Don't have to be worryin' 'bout yeh then. No more than usual, that is."
After that, Hermione returned to her attempts at helping Hagrid put together a safe lesson plan that would not allow Professor Umbridge an opportunity to come after him for any perceived violations, Educational Decrees or otherwise. Hagrid, however, was as stubborn and dismissive of the potential threat as usual. In truth, outside of his consistent insistence that Professor Grubbly-Plank's idea of education would bore the head leaves off a bowtruckle, Hagrid seem completely disinterested in the conversation. He was not being rude, as such. He simply appeared distracted, looking out the window towards the Forbidden Forest every so often with a smile that seemed almost dreamy and whimsical. The bruises and blood about his face made the imagery seem all the more out of place.
Mentally exhausted and thoroughly frustrated, Hermione finally gave up and left Hagrid so he could rest up and heal. One way or another, there would be school the next morning and Hagrid had a long week ahead of him.
As she slowly trudged back up the hill and over the covered bridge leading into Hogwarts, Hermione's mind was a whirl of thoughts and emotions. She thought of her earlier moments with Killian and Hagrid. Speaking up when Hagrid asked Killian his name, as if Killian was hers to introduce. Again speaking up when Hagrid mentioned he had overheard students speaking fondly of Killian. Why had that bothered her so much? The comment immediately brought forth an image of a group of Ravenclaw girls giggling and whispering together. Hagrid had not even mentioned a gender, yet Hermione's subconscious assigned one just the same.
Then there was the moment she spoke up to interject when she feared Hagrid was going to mention how he met with the giants on behalf of Professor Dumbledore. She, Harry, and Ron knew where Hagrid was and what he was attempting. Hagrid had shared this information readily. He trusted them with it. Yet she stepped in and obstructed the very same exchange when it appeared it may be shared with Killian.
Possessiveness? Jealousy? Hermione often mused how Killian was her secret and hers alone. But this was in jest, was it not? Did she truly feel this way? Did he see her in the same way? Were these same ponderances bouncing about in Killian's consciousness, as well?
And what of her misgivings? Time and time again Hermione had convinced herself she trusted Killian. Why the sudden fear? Was is just instinct? Or was it that she wished to keep Killian out of her own inner circle with Harry and Ron? After all, her relationship with Killian was far different that those with her favorite pair of fellow Gryffindors. At least she believed it to be. If nothing else, they were certainly two separate world she wished to keep divided.
There were so many questions, so many emotions. They were things Hermione had not thought about. Or, more likely, had no desire to address. Her relation with Killian was complicated, but the rules were simple. And as long as they followed these simple rules, life went on and nothing changed. Did that even make sense? Was such an existence even truly possible? And why does each passing day seem to compound this confusion exponentially?
Lost in this firestorm of emotions was another moment in Hagrid's hut. It was a moment returned Hermione to memories of the night she and Killian were casting stones into the Black Lake, talking about the very incident that caused Hagrid to take note when he realized with whom Hermione was sharing company aside his abode.
On that night, Killian expressed his regret about having gone from unknown and left to his own to being the focus of his classmates' curiosities and fears. And while Hermione had assured him at the time that his views were askew, even as these words of optimism escaped her lips, she had her reservations. Hagrid's concern for her decisively validated the reality she had attempted to dismiss. There was a curiosity, there was a fear. And these ominous particulars played on each other in succession. The curiosity fed the fear which, in turn, fed the growing attraction to something unknown and potentially dangerous.
To Hermione it was nothing more than silly nonsense. Although she now knew these suspicions within the school to be real, she still did not see it. Hermione had her curiosities, just like everyone else. However, hers not based on any anxieties or concerns. And unlike those who whisper and ogle from a distance, Hermione had no reservations in regards to approaching the reclusive Slytherin who had suddenly caught the eyes of the student body after an altercation in the Slytherin House, the details of which were spoken only in hushed whispers by those who were not there to witness the event.
No, Hermione did not see it. To her, that Slytherin was just Killian, just a boy. Well, maybe not just a boy. But he was Killian … Her Killian. And they were all wrong about him. If they only knew.
Tossing all of the doubt and nonsense aside, Hermione decided she would focus on something else. Something more important. Something that brought a warm smile to her face. Apparently, she now had to book that needed returning. Perhaps this evening after dinner. Perhaps sooner.
