Here it is, within the 2 week mark.

Once again I thank all those who've read, reviewed, favourited and/or added Labyrinth to their alerts! It is because of this support I keep on writing. On another note, Labyrinth is nearing the 100 review mark, something I consided huge, so I'm really happy!

Also, hidden in this chapter is a little detail that will prove important to the story's plot, it is tiny and relates to one of the little-used canon characters, kudos to whoever can spot it!

Labyrinth

The mind of a prodigy is a scary thing. Hermione Granger's however is downright terrifying.
AU. Slytherin!Hermione, Slytherin!Harry

Chapter Five

Magic

"Charms," the diminutive professor Flitwick rambled excitedly, "is the magic of everything! Anything and everything you can think of can be accomplished by a charm! There are charms for every situation you might find yourself in and they can be used in hundreds of different ways!"

Hermione listened eagerly, neatly writing down every word the professor said for future revision. The professor was, according to Hogwarts: A History's 'current professors' chapter, a world renowned duellist that had been the world champion for sixteen consecutive years before retiring to teach Charms at Hogwarts. He was different than she expected him to be though, he was happy, excited and seemed rather silly, standing on his stack of books simply to look over his desk. He even fell from the stack when he came to Harry's name.

"A charm can save your life, wash your dishes and tie your shoelaces! Nothing can't be done by a charm and for seven years I will ensure that you too can experience the wonder that is charms!"

Hermione rose her hand, having laid down her quill in order to properly ask a question.

"Yes, err, miss Granger?"

"Is everything that is not categorized as transfiguration immediately a charm? If so, are there sub-categories to charms as there are to transfiguration or is the name 'charms' merely chosen as it covers most of the non-transfiguration spells? I have read that several of the spells we learn in Defence Against the Dark Arts are named charms, is this because they would otherwise fall in no-name limbo or because they are in fact charms?"

Professor Flitwick scratched his chin for a moment and her non-Slytherin classmates shot her bewildered looks while Harry just rose his eyebrows. Hermione looked back at him with a faintly amused expression before looking back at the professor.

"Well, miss Granger, that is a question I would normally have expected a second or third year student to ask but I shall answer it nevertheless," he squeaked happily as he flicked his wand once causing the word 'Charms' to appear floating in sky in a silvery script.

"Charms do, in fact, cover most of the non-transfiguration spells. About 85% of them if I am correct. The other 15% are Curses, or Dark Magic, as most people have taken to calling them, but Charms by far covers most of the spells in the world. It does have sub-categories such as 'Wards', 'Protective Charms', 'Offensive Charms' and some others and yes, most of the spells taught by professor Quirrel are charms," the words 'Wards, 'Protective Charms' and 'Offensive Charms' appeared with another flick of the professor's wand, floating beneath 'Charms' in the same silvery script.

"The reason I am not the one teaching them is because my subject covers all sorts of charms used in non-combat situations while professor Quirrel will teach you how to use them in a way so they can defend you. In fact, we may cover the same spells whereas my class will teach you the everyday use and professor Quirrel's will teach you the defensive use."

Professor Flitwick paused for a moment and shot Hermione a knowing look and a kind smile, "did this answer your question, miss Granger?"

"It did, thank you professor," Hermione said as her quill started scratching furiously across her parchment as she wrote down everything he had said.

"Now," Flitwick continued as he looked at the class with a smile, "we will practice the lighting charm!"

"The lightning charm!" a voice said excitedly from behind Hermione, "that's wicked!"

Hermione turned around, her face carefully blank, when she came face-to-face with the pale, freckled face of Ron the Redhead.

"Professor Flitwick said lighting charm, not lightning charm," she said slowly, looking at him as if he was a petulant toddler.

Ron remained silent and the girl sitting next to him shot Hermione an uncertain, if not slightly hostile, look which Hermione ignored in favour of turning back to listen to the professor.

"The incantation is Lumos and it will generate a tiny sphere of light on the tip of your wand," Filius Flitwick demonstrated the spell slowly, pronouncing the words carefully and holding his wand still. "This charm requires no wand movement but is best done with the tip of your wand facing upwards rather downwards when first learning it," he explained, "now, you try!"

Hermione eagerly grasped her wand in her left hand and held it in a casual grip before murmuring the words "Lumos." And then, to her disappointment, nothing happened.

Hermione quickly shot a glance towards Harry and found him having similar misfortune with the charm, she then returned her attention to her wand and tried again. And again, and again.

"Stupid thing," Hermione spat and she almost felt sorry for taking the wand in the first place instead of waiting for the 'right' wand. Then, she took a deep breath and tightened her resolve, she was Hermione Granger, and she did not fail. Never, at anything.

"Lumos," she growled, guiding her magic to her fingers and willing it to work. She wanted the stupid light to appear on the tip of her wand, she wanted to show the blasted old man she could make this wand work for her, she wanted to succeed more than anything!

Then, just when the tingling in her fingers seemed to slowly ebb away, she saw a dim light flicker on the tip of her wand for a few seconds before it started burning brightly. Slowly, a beatific grin formed on Hermione's face and her brown eyes shone with glee as she stared at the success of her first, real spell. The tingling intensified as she pushed more of herself into her wand, slowly feeling the wood heat up beneath her fingers before she cut off the connection and the light vanished from view.

"Marvellous, miss Granger!" professor Flitwick's voice rose her from her own thoughts as he seemed to suddenly appear in front of her, clapping his hands enthusiastically. "A point to Slytherin for grasping the spell that quickly!"

Hermione merely frowned at his words, it had taken her more than fifteen minutes to get it right, and even that took effort. She glanced around her, seeing others producing either flickering lights or, in the redhead Ron's case, a thin trail of smoke slowly wafting upwards.

"Harry," she whispered softly as she leant towards him, "you need to want it, badly."

Harry shot her a thankful look before he turned to his own wand again, his face a carefully blank mask while his hand grasped his wand tightly, his muscles tense and shaking slightly from the effort. Then, after a few more seconds, his wand too lit up as did his face. He whispered a soft "thank you," to Hermione before Flitwick complimented him too and handed him a point as well.

At the end of the class only nine students, a Hufflepuff, three Ravenclaws and five Slytherins (Harry and Hermione included) had grasped the spell. The others were promised to have the next lesson to practice further and were asked to re-read the theory of the spell.

"Did your wand heat up when you did spell?" Hermione whispered to Harry once they had left the classroom.

Harry shook his head, "no, but it felt odd."

"That it did," Hermione agreed, frowning again, "but my wand felt heated. I'll try to find a book on it, maybe it is a side effect from not being the 'right' wand or any of that bogus."

Harry just nodded, they remained in a comfortable silence as they walked to their next class. Both just lost in their own thoughts and basking in the light of their success.

oOoOoOo

Ancient Wandlore, by Liander V. Gorriack was one book Hermione did not regret reading, it was an old, dusty tome with over 3780 pages and had detailed diagrams of wands. Unlike The art of the wand this book explained the wand itself and its reaction to magic rather than magic's reaction to a wand. The heavy book was charmed to make it lighter and smaller and according to the chart on in the inside of the cover it had been checked out by a student just 5 times ever since it was written in and delivered to the Hogwarts Library 1826. The last time being in 1942, it was a pity really. Hermione thought sadly, the book was a well of information and clearly written by a, most likely insane, genius.

"An unfit wand either channels too little or too much magic, depending on the owner, and can have varying consequences. The most common is the case in which the core of the wand comes from a creature whose own magical potency was lower than the owner's (often the case with young unicorns, kappa's and nifflers). The wand will then try to accommodate the magic resulting in trying to expand its own magical potency, resulting in explosions, blasts of wild magic or the cracking of the wand itself. More uncommon are cases in which the magic of the owner uses the wood's capability of channelling magic and bypasses the core itself. This may result in, once again, cracking the wand's exterior, setting the wand aflame, more explosions, or nothing (depending on the magical capability of the owner). The wood' s resistance to magic however is great, as it magically denser than the core, and will require a greater effort from the owner. The type of wood also determines its reaction to being used instead of the core (see page 2223: 'Types of trees and their uses', page 12: 'An introduction to wands' or page 1590: 'Origin of ingredients and their connection to certain wizards through the ages'). Anyone idiotic enough to continue using an unfit wand should be warned that several spells will react unfavourably when cast with an unfit wand (for a complete list see: page 3010 'Wands and spells, how not to blow yourself up')."

Hermione placed the book back on the table and glanced at her watch, it was almost time for lunch, she and Harry'd better go.

oOoOoOo

Ron Weasley watched the Boy Who Lived from afar, his mind waging an internal battle over whether or not to befriend the heroic boy. On one hand he was a Slytherin and on the other he was the boy he most likely owed his life to. It was a hard decision, he thought moodily, and one that was best solved over food.

So Ronald continued shoving food in his mouth at an ungodly pace, not noticing that several of his fellow Gryffindors slowly edged away from him or how Lavender Brown was slightly green around the edges just from watching him.

"Erm, Ronald," Parvati Patil said awkwardly, "you have some, err, egg .. on your face."

"Mhh hffve?" Ron asked, trying to talk with his mouth full before wiping his sleeve across his face, "ddfid mhh gwet 't?"

"Err," Parvati said slowly, looking at the yellowish stain and bits of reddish-orange yolk now covering his whole face rather than just his cheek, "yeah … you got it."

"Twnks, Prvwati," Ron said happily, oblivious to the food on his face as he continued shovelling his lunch in.

"You're welcome," Parvati said feebly, staring at Ron and then at his plate with a pale face before dashing towards the toilets, an equally pale Lavender hot on her heels.

oOoOoOo

"Plebeians," Draco snorted disdainfully as he glanced at the Gryffindor table, "can't even properly eat food."

Gregory Goyle, who was just eating his toast and marmalade, immediately started laughing, sending bits and pieces of his lunch landing on his plate an clothes.

"Goyle," Draco snapped, glaring at the big, lumpy boy with annoyance, "swallow first, then laugh."

"Yeah Greg," Vincent Crabbe said, his fingers grabbing another piece of bread and ripping it in pieces before eating it, "swall'w fwst, 'dn laugh!"

"Crabbe!" Draco snapped, "don't talk with your mouth full! And use a fork!"

Harry shot Hermione an amused look to which Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"Inbreeds," Hermione sniffed disdainfully, "can't even properly eat food."

"Indeed," Harry said pompously, "let us adjourn to the library, away from such common people, shall we?"

"We shall," Hermione responded in an equally stuck-up voice, "I simply cannot stand the stench of inbreeds."

Once out of the Great Hall they shot each other a grin before walking in the direction of the library.

"I dislike them," Hermione scowled after a moment of silence, "they act as if they are so much better than the others."

"Aren't we the same?" Harry asked.

"No. We don't act, Harry, we are better. They can't do half of the things we can, they didn't experience any of the things we've faced. And we'll show them, maybe not now, but Rome wasn't built in one day either."

Harry just nodded silently, both of them once again walking towards the library in silence.

oOoOoOo

"Filthy mudblood!" Pansy Parkinson raged in the Slytherin common room, briskly walking in circles with her wand grasped firmly in her hand, "how dare she insult us!"

Blaise Zabini watched her calmly, his face a mask of sheer boredom as his eyes occasionally strayed down to the book he was trying to read.

"She and Potter both! How dare they!" Pansy raised her hands to the air and let out an un lady-like screech before she resumed her pacing, "say something Blaise!"

"Ah, yes," Blaise said, dragging his eyes up to meet Pansy's again, "I could …"

"NO!" Pansy screeched as she twirled to face him again, "don't you dare!"

Blaise shrugged and shot her an ugly look when she wasn't watching, "stuck up little wretch," he hissed, "always mocking my plans. Never believing, well, you'll believe them when you're dead, Pansy, dead. And I won't even bother saving you."

"Did you say something, Blaise?" Pansy demanded hotly as she shot him a distrustful look.

"Nothing," he grumbled obediently as his eyes traced the words on the page once more. Oh how he'd laugh when they fell for Potter and the mudblood's little schemes. Oh how he'd laugh when he would stab the two of them in the back while they danced on his friends corpses. Because he knew what they were doing, their little conspiracy wasn't slipping past his guard, he was Blaise Zabini, and oh yes, he knew and he was prepared.

And if he wasn't, he'd owl his mum and she'd handle his problems.

oOoOoOo

Theodore Nott watched the happenings of his housemates with a blank look in his eyes, seemingly staring at a painting of three snakes basking in the sun. He knew that Millicent was waiting for him to make the first move and that Daphne was testing the waters and waited for her parents to dictate her next plan of action. He didn't know Draco's plan, no one ever knew exactly what a Malfoy planned, and Blaise would do whatever would help him out in the end. Vincent and Gregory however remained oblivious, unimportant and mindless side figures not even worth the air in the room.

Theodore blinked, suddenly remembering that such a thing was needed lest he hurt his eyes, and then resumed staring at the wall.

He also knew Pansy would only do something after the others did to ensure she joined the group with the most politically powerful people. He also knew that whatever he did would be in the best interest of the house of Nott, as it was done for ages.

He blinked again, thankfully remembering to do so before his eyes started tingling again. It was a good thing he remembered to do so, staring was a particularly hard thing to do. He did not quite understand how people could 'Gaze at a particular object or person for a prolonged time' without blinking.

He then resumed his train of thoughts, he himself was partial to Potter and Granger. They were uncertainties, things he did not know each and every secret of, things he could not anticipate or look up in his personal library. He did not have a detailed guide to 'Dealing with Grangers' or 'Handling unkillable halfbloods'. He did, however, have one named 'Managing Malfoys' and 'Going with Greengrasses' in the Nott family library. Their writers, his family, were no Gilderoy Lockhart, he mused, but they were good.

"Theodore," Daphne shortly tapped his shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts and reminding him to blink again.

"Daphne," Theodore acknowledged her with a nod.

"Dinner will be served shortly, I saw you staring and deemed it necessary to remind you."

"Ah yes, the reminder is most welcome. You have my gratitude," Theodore said, watching Daphne go.

Really, it was a good thing she reminded him of dinner, staring often caused him to forget the time. It was such a hard thing, he mused again, I need more practice.

Thank you for reading.