Pale in the Shadows
Part I Magick in the Air – Chapter 5 Calm Understanding
About: What's it like to be a muggle-born and have magick especially when you're a genius?
'Granger.' The woman at the desk stepped forward as the girl hesitantly set foot in the main office. 'The headmistress is ready for you,' the secretary said with a smile on her face as she motioned the girl towards a mahogany door, nudging her forward before closing it quietly behind her.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione quickly took stock of the headmistress's office. It was extremely orderly and cozy; books were kept tidily on their shelves, papers in neat stacks about the room, lush green vines and moderate bush-like plants free of dust, and even the window spotless. Frowning, her eyes locked on the headmistress, a heavyset woman with frizzy grey hair down to her shoulders. She was busy reading a report, her aged lips pursed as she looked over horn-rimmed glasses.
'Headmistress?' Hermione asked, making sure there was a certain her voice didn't quaver.
'Have a seat, Miss Granger,' the woman said, her tone severe.
Hesitantly, Hermione complied, unsure quite why she had been called to the office in the first place. She had just settled herself into a book in the library when an announcement blared over the school's intercom system requesting her presence in the office. They had just completed their finals of the year and many of the girls were heading home in the coming week; unless something untimely had happened to her parents, the young girl couldn't think of any reason to be summoned.
Setting the paper down, the headmistress leaned back in her chair, raising an eyebrow at the young girl. 'I am sure you know why you are here. Do you have anything to say for yourself, Miss Granger?'
Curling her fingers into her skirt, Hermione shook her head. 'Actually, Headmistress, I don't know why I'm here. You make it sound as if I have done something wrong.'
Snorting, the headmistress stabbed her finger at the paper she had just been reading as if to emphasize a point. 'And you didn't?' she retorted, sliding her tongue across the lipstick that stained her teeth. 'Surely you don't think I'm a fool, Miss Granger.' She gave the girl a mocking smile as she peeled off her glasses, leaning forward like a predator. 'As you may not realize, being as young as you are, cheating is strongly frowned upon especially on the aptitude exam. At Mayfield, we pride our teacher and our students in honesty. What have you to say for yourself?'
Swallowing her anger, Hermione schooled herself, counting to ten before replying. In her most scholarly voice, she asked, 'If you will excuse me headmistress, but how is that I cheated on my exams? I had no reason to cheat as I studied for them. Even my prior test results in my courses should speak for themselves.'
Blinking at the girl's controlled response, the woman took a few moments to compose herself. 'It's one thing to get perfect scores on your exams, but another to get a perfect score on the aptitude test! Surely you jest in saying that your intellectual level is three grades above your current one. Not only that but all of your teachers wrote that you finished your exams between twenty to thirty minutes! Never in all my years have I seen someone not only take the tests so quickly, but accurately. The obvious conclusion is that you must have cheated.'
Obvious my posterior, Hermione though bitterly. Sometimes she hated adults as much as she hated her peers. She had suffered going to the boarding school because her parents had insisted that Mayfield was the leader in education for young girls. Midway through the second semester she had of course written them, after doing much needed research by sorting through school catalogues, and had requested they transfer her to an elevator school. The coursework at Mayfield was much too lax and lacking in intellectual stimulation. I can get more out of the library than I could ever get out of this school.
Giving the headmistress a sarcastic smile, the girl nonchalantly crossed her legs in the most unladylike manner possible. 'Well, headmistress, I hate to put a damper on your obliviousness to my capacity of intellect; however, your exam was perhaps the easiest I have taken since starting school. In fact, I probably could have securely passed my final exams midway through this semester.' Watching the woman's jaw drop at her insolent tone was almost satisfactory for Hermione. 'As it is, if you really feel I have cheated then please do create a new exam or better yet supply me with the aptitude tests from past years and you will more than likely see a similar result, though I'm not arrogant enough to promise more perfect scores, but I am confident enough that the scores will be nearly so.
'Even in my previous school, my teachers accepted my abilities and pushed me to learn more and, only at the insistence of my parents, did I decide I would try Mayfield,' Hermione said with a reluctant sigh. 'As it stands, Headmistress, I have requested a transfer to a different school, which my parents will happily submit to you tomorrow when they come to pick me up.' Rising from her seat, the girl hesitated at the door. 'I refuse to sit here and debate this with an individual who has no interest in the truth.'
She watched as the woman's face turned a rosy shade. 'MISS GRANGER!' the woman snapped. 'You will not disrespect your betters. There is PROOF provided by your PEERS that you cheated.'
Raising an eyebrow in retort, the girl snapped, 'Let me suggest that listening to Miss Archer and Miss Blake is probably not the most accurate of proof. Perhaps you should check their scores as I can guarantee their aptitude tests are much higher than their final exams or previous ones throughout the year. As it stands, you will excuse me now.' The girl felt strange burning energy in her as she willed the teacher to keep her mouth shut and forget the whole matter. 'I refuse to put up with your biased argument just because you are too scared to go after those particular girls due to their families making generous donations to this school.' The woman's eyes seemed glazed over as the girl bowed in mockery, then shutting the door behind her, and heading for her dorm room.
Unable to sleep with the restless energy from fighting with the headmistress, Hermione found herself in the library yet again. In her mind, if the answer couldn't be reached by thinking the thing through, then obviously it would be in a book somewhere because somebody else had thought of the answer. Surely I didn't actually make her forget about the incident and calm herself, she thought, but something nagged at her. Any normal person would have chased after her for such insubordination, but even through supper the headmistress said nothing to her or about her.
The girl thought more about how perhaps she really had altered the woman's state of mind with her own thoughts. With a pen and notebook she began writing out possibilities such as brainwashing, telepathy, mind control—and finally settled on telepathy. She went to the section of the library on psychology, keeping an eye out for any title that suggested psychic ability. Of course, the titles that held any such hope were two heads above her and she didn't much feel like getting a ladder to pull them down.
'Honestly I just want the blasted book on Outside the Human Brain!' she muttered angrily, her emotions at their peak, honestly feeling there was no justice in being short. Again she felt the strange pulse of energy in her as though a wind spun from her hand to the book, which flew off the shelf and smack into her hand with a sudden jolt of energy. Surprised she looked from the shelf to the book, trying recapture exactly how the strange power had felt. Thoughtfully, she took a seat at a nearby study desk, absentmindedly setting the book down.
'Like a wind, but not like a thought,' Hermione mused. In that case it isn't psychic ability. More like, an element? What uses elements besides science? The only thing that the girl could think of was alchemy, which was a form of bastardized science, at least according to texts. Then it struck her, almost making her giddy with childish excitement. Alchemists though were often looked at as sorcerers or wizards and what were they purported to use, but… 'Magick.' Surely, a brilliant mind like herself would never give into the childish idea that magick existed, except there was nothing to truly prove it didn't. With that, Hermione decided she would assume she had magick until proven otherwise, and decided to being reading about human psychology and theorized psychic ability, since she had bothered to get the book down in the first place.
'Darling, how I've missed you!' her mother tearfully cooed, sweeping up her daughter in a hug. Hermione relaxed in the familiar embrace, feeling her own eyes tear up at the total acceptance she dearly missed. As she was sat down, she couldn't help but admire her mother, who was absolutely stunning despite the weight she had gained over the years. The girl hoped she would continue to take after the woman, whose thick curly hair came to her waist and honey-coloured eyes danced with mirth.
'I've miss you, too, Mama,' Hermione said shyly.
Her father, a short salt-and-pepper man, patted her gingerly on the back. 'I truly did miss you, dearest,' he said pecking her on the cheek before picking up her luggage. 'I'm sorry your experience here wasn't the best, but I hope you made some decent memories.'
'I definitely did!' she replied somewhat truthfully. 'They had the most lovely library!'
Her parents gave each other knowing looks and chuckled as they began to pack into the car. Before she could get her door shut, though, Hermione heard a strange voice, a warm tug at her senses. It was similar to the night before when she had summoned the book. Frowning, she got out of the car and glancing nervously around.
Help me! shouted a voice, almost like that of a small child.
'Dear?' her mother asked, but Hermione wasn't quite paying attention.
Before she knew it, Hermione found herself hurrying over to a stretch of unkempt shrubbery where the warm feeling was strongest and could hear something flailing in the brush, a voice frantically shouting, I have to get out! What if it's a predator! It will eat me!
'Hello?' Hermione asked hesitantly, unsure of what to do. The rustling in the brush stopped. 'Is someone there?'
It's a human, the voice came, a human with magick...a wizard.
Getting on her hands and knees, she began to peel away at leaves as the strange feeling grew stronger, tying itself into a knot. Before Hermione knew it, she had uncovered a strange kitten with extra large ears who was extremely thin from obvious malnutrition. The cat's fur was matted, but from what she could tell it was speckled browned gold and black. Hermione saw the problem right away; the animal's tail was caught in some twine to the extent it had cut through some of the flesh, leaving much of it bare and making it look similar to that of a lion's.
'It's okay,' she said reassuringly, feeling her words pulse through the strange connection.
I know now. Thank you. The cat hissed as when she tugged a little too much on the twine, but Hermione managed to get it unhooked from the shrubbery, then pulling the animal out. In her attempt to rescue it, her parents had come up behind her.
'Poor thing,' her mother whispered, holding out a towel for it, which Hermione gently placed the cat into. 'Honey, look!'
Sitting up, her mom passing the cat to be cradled in her arms, Hermione marveled at its wide green eyes and unusual markings. Some part of her acknowledged the oddity in how sedate it was being, despite its obvious pain, and even her father gave her a marveling look.
'She needs to see a veterinarian right away,' her mother said.
Her father sighed, a chuckle escaping him, 'Well, I can already tell that I'm going to lose between you two girls. We'll take it to the vet. Just be careful that it doesn't claw or bite you, Hermione. God only knows what diseases it may have, and we don't know if its someone's lost pet or feral.'
Tell him I am safe, the cat responded, closing its eyes and giving a soft rumbling purr. In pain, but safe.
'I think she's safe, but I think you're right, Papa. I'll be careful.'
As they settled into the car and were on their way leaving Mayfield behind, Hermione mumbled, 'What's your name?'
You can call me Crookshanks. That's what my litter called me.
'Hermione, did you say something?' her mother asked, turning in her seat. Shaking her head, Hermione realized that her life was going to be anything but boring.
