And here it is. I do not know why, but writing this chapter was somewhat interesting... it took me a little longer than usual to gather my thoughts and stuff. BUT here it is!
I have taken a lot of parts from The Philosopher's Stone directly, but you might have figured out by now ;)
The usual disclaimer applies. PLUS: I hope you enjoy!
And indeed, something stupid the boys did. She was glad she'd prepared a signal for Luna (actually she had just borrowed Hedwig to knock at Luna's window) when she was woken up by the shuffling sounds of feet and complaints. Silently and unmoving she lay in her bed, waiting for the moment, when the boys would feel secure enough not to watch out for her – it did not take long. Once they were out of the room, she sent off her signal and followed the two.
Covered by nothing but the shadows she danced through the nightly halls of Hogwarts hot on the trails of Harry and Ron, her wand ever at the ready – it surely wouldn't do to end up the way poor Neville had.
Luna waited for her behind the door to the third-floor corridor, having watched Harry and Ron enter the one door at the end of the corridor – and so both of them neared it. Strange howling sounds emitted from behind the wooden door. Hermes' eyes narrowed as he put his wand at the ready.
"What do you think we'll find there?"
Lysander shrugged unconcerned. "It's not a dragon, they howl differently."
And really, a dragon it was not. As soon as the door yielded under their wands and gave way to the small room, the two girls disguised as boys faced a three-headed dog – Fluffy, apparently. Ron and Harry were trying to outrun him, while opening the door on the floor, but to no avail, the guardian was vigilant – luckily for the two new intruders though, the Cerberus was so engrossed with keeping the running Gryffindors at bay, that it had not even noticed one of the new figures.
"Musico." Hermes' wand emitted soft music, placating and quickly putting the Cerberus to sleep, much to the astonishment of Harry and Ron. Hermione was glad beyond reason to have eavesdropped on the two and Hagrid, as well as having learned this particular spell. Who'd have known that a Cerberus of such a caliber could be lulled to sleep by classical music?
"So this is Fluffy." Lysander awed, carefully rounding the sleeping beast and observing it with big eyes. He had this way of observing strange things – and this animal certainly was strange. The boys stood up and looked at Hermes with big eyes, as he freed the door in the floor from the protective paw of the three-headed dog.
"How'd you know?" Ron croaked uncertainly, Hermione smirked at him.
"Not only Malfoy has big ear, Ron. Did you never wonder why I was caught in the corridors on the same evening as the three of you?"
By the way his cheeks reddened, she could tell that, no, apparently that thought had not crossed his mind until now. She nodded towards the pit in front of them – it was dark as hell, and there was no telling what awaited them down there. "In we go." And before anyone could utter a defiance, she had jumped.
"Shite!"
Harry yelped as the root wound around his throat, tightening its grip. Hermione watched with rapt attention, shocked into a pillar of salt as the root wound over her but let go of her when it found no resistance – only when she landed on her buttocks in the small cave beneath the roots did her brain catch up. A devil's snare.
Luna, having watched Hermione vanish, nonchalantly stopped struggling and soon sunk away.
"Hermes! Lysander!"
"Ronald will you relax! We're fine! Just below you actually… just… STOP STRUGGLING!" Hermione fought hard to keep her voice as masculine as possible, especially as her newly found friends were about to get crushed by devil's root.
"How can I relax when it's strangling meeeeeeee!" he wailed, louder even when the root's grip tightened – Harry was turning a strange color. There had to be something she could do…
"Professor Sprout told us never to walk into that one greenhouse, you know the one that's all darkened – she said if we'd go there, we'd meet the devil in person…" Luna recounted with her breathy demeanor.
At first Hermione didn't understand at all – why would Luna talk about Professor Sprout now of all times? Why would-?
"Darkness… the devil's root likes darkness."
"Lumos solem." Luna breathed as from above her, Harry tumbled through the whole the roots had left when they'd retreated from the shine. Luna pouted at her wand. "Apparently it's not enough to let Ron go as well…" she mused, but Hermione had already drawn her wand.
Concentrating on the roots above her, she whispered. "Laconum inflamare." In the book she'd read not too long ago this kind of fire had been described as 'bluebell flames' – as long as they were floating in the air they were harmless, but once they'd touched surface they'd develop a burning power that could be compared to a bonfire.
They tiny blue-bubbles floated from her wand, directly towards the roots and upon hitting them, ignited a fire and light that had the roots completely retreat, freeing Ronald finally. He was a horrible sight when he joined them on the ground, but he was alive and breathing and that was already something.
Hermione looked at him and then at Harry. "I'm not sure how much you guys think of it, but seeing as we are technically protecting a national treasure within these halls, I think that we should gather as much information about the protective mechanisms as possible."
From the floor, a wheezing Ron rolled his eyes. "Can you not once stop analyzing everything? I swear you should have been put in Ravenclaw for all that thinking you do."
She resumed to glare at the red-head, imitating the harsh features of Professor Snape – judged by the way that Ron shut at least up, she gathered that she had some success.
"I think that each house-professor put his protection here. Fluffy was obviously Dumbledore's idea, he'd never have asked Hagrid for it otherwise. The devil's snare was Miss Sprout's idea, I recon there'll be a protection from Miss McGonagall, Professor Flitwick and Professor Snape. Also Dumbledore must have known he's keeping the treasure from Voldemort, so maybe he's sent Quirrell, seeing as he is Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher… and then I wouldn't put it past Dumbledore to put a last hurdle in the way of the one person seeking the stone."
Harry hardly listened, she could tell, and Ronald didn't either – they wanted to move on, but Ron was incapacitated at the very moment. Luna however did listen, nodding her head in acquiescence before she informed them about the time: it was two hours after curfew; they still had the whole night.
As they walked into the next room, all they could hear was the gently fluttering of wings – there were no obstacles visible, and Ronald, ever the enthusiast, ran over to the next door, only to find it locked.
"Alohomora." The door still didn't budge, only now did he turn to them, shrugging. "It was worth a try at least, no?"
Silently they stood in the room until finally Luna detected what looked like brooms under a dusty carpet.
"Brooms? Whatever for? Should we clean the whole room or what?" Ron sounded unconvinced – the other three remembered however that brooms in the wizarding world were hardly used for cleaning. They craned their necks to finally find the source of the fluttering.
"Are those keys?" Hermione asked finally, squinting her eyes. "Yeah." Harry whispered; Hermione nodded in respect – it was one thing to be able to find the key they searched for, and then to also find it flying… that certainly was a task.
However, Harry was not the youngest seeker in a century for nothing, despite his glasses – or maybe because of them – he had eyes like a hawk. "We're looking for an old key," Ron guessed, "If the lock is anything to go by anyways. It's rusty… I guess the key is too."
"There." Harry pointed his finger up, but Hermione could not pinpoint the key that would fit the description. "The one with the broken wings, it appears it has already been captured none too gently once." The broken wing was indeed a dead give-away.
"One needs to stay down here, in case something happens."
Luna volunteered – she never liked flying anyways and so Ron, Hermione and Harry mounted their respective brooms. Before they took off, Harry gave a few orders.
"Hermes I want you to stay down here, just to assure that if it flies down and both of us are up there someone will block its escape route. Ron will keep to my side, is that alright?"
Hermione shrugged; content that she would not need to fly zig-zag in order to capture the key. She was not averse to flying, but she still felt that it was somewhat unnatural to leave the ground to aspire to heights as Harry did when flying during the Quidditch practices and matches.
She was torn out of her reverie though when Harry's yell reached her ears. "IT'S COMING DOWN!"
And indeed, at neck-breaking speed she could see the key making its way towards her, she shot up, intent on grabbing it, when she realized – belatedly – that Ron had shot downwards, his hand reaching for the key as well. Her eyes widened at the realization that they'd collide.
In the last possible moment, she swung her body, tilting her broom ever so slightly aside – however, Ron had done so as well, hoping, as Hermione had, that the other one would reach for the key.
"Got it!" Lysander's breathy call reached her ears and she smiled as she looked at the two flying boys – at least someone had reacted quickly enough.
The next room found to be a chess-board and Ron was, for once, the first to catch on as for the utility. "We have to play ourselves across the room."
Hermione was positive that this was McGonagall's idea – now and then she had seen the head of her house with a male Professor playing a bout of chess, she was brilliant for a woman and had never disappointed a chess partner. As Ron positioned them, she wondered just how they would be going to make it, after all, the figures were charmed.
"Say, is this normal chess or is this wizarding chess?"
Ronald answered her question by sending a peasant forth, seeing as they were black, he only had to put his peasant into the right position. Horrified Hermione watched as the figure was blown into shambles by the opposite pawn. A silent 'oh' escaped her mouth.
She had never been particularly fond of chess… no actually that was a lie. She would have been fond of it, no question, it was a logical game with a great strategic aspect – but as a girl she had never been allowed the joy of the game, maybe she'd change that.
It wasn't until only a few of their figures stayed, when suddenly she realized something that did not quite sit with her.
"Ronald…" she said uneasy into the silence that had settled over the room after the Queen had yet again struck down a figure. The red-head nodded.
"You've figured it out then, Hermes."
"What?" Harry yelled panicked, turning between Hermes, Ron and Lysander, who stood none too far away from the King.
"There is a possibility to end this game… but it will be on my head, quite literally as well…" Ron faded out, seeing Harry's eyes go big.
"No."
"Harry it is the only possibility. We won't get another chance as this. Ron has worked hard to get us here, but now we need… well… we need this round to win." Even though he swallowed angrily, he said nothing and so Ron stepped up to the Queen.
"Check."
She closed her eyes, biting on her lip when she heard the dull sound of metal against head – Ron had been hit and by the looks of it, he was unconscious. Hermione, opened her eyes when she saw Harry still rooted to the spot – his eyes glued to her form. She was wary, tired actually, but she knew that if Voldemort was after the Philosopher's Stone then she had to pull this through.
Hurriedly she ran up to the King. "Check mate." The figure threw its crown to her feet – the session was won.
Luna stayed with Ronald.
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked her – and the double question, carefully wrapped into one solely, was not lost to the blonde.
"I am, Hermes. You are of more use to Harry with your spell repertoire, I'm worn out actually and I don't know if that would be to Harry's advantage. You two go ahead, I stay here."
Hermione understood more than was said and the four parted, leaving the unconscious Ronald with Lysander, while Hermes and Harry turned to enter the next room.
"I'd say we're up for Quirrell's or Snape's quest soon." Hermione informed him, just as they opened the door. Harry was about to answer something, but the sheer, disgusting smell that encountered them made him unable to do so.
"Ugh." Holding their hands over their noses, they entered the room, their eyes immediately glued to the troll that lay at the far end of the room. Blood oozed out of a wound on its head – there was no doubt that it emitted the disgusting smell.
As they had passed it, Harry shuddered. "Well, at least we didn't have to handle it." She was aware that he tried to be positive, while his mindset was anything but. As soon as they had closed the door behind them, wards sprang up, enveloping the door in purple flames – they shied back.
At the other end of the room, a door emitted black flames and in the middle of the room stood a table with several potions.
"Professor Snape's riddle then." Hermione neared it quicker than Harry, glad to find a small scroll of parchment on the table – she unrolled it.
"Brilliant." She breathed and smiled at Harry, whose eyes were glued to her, it was very obvious that he was not in the mood to smile at all. "It's a puzzle – logic. Most wizards don't possess an ounce of it, they'd be stuck here forever."
Harry, even though he looked at her as though she was crazy, motioned his head toward the parchment. "What does it say then if this is so logical?"
Hermione smiled as she read over the lines again. "I almost can't believe he's resorted to something so muggle… it's certainly Slytherin." In secret her admiration for the snarky man had just reached a new level – for anyone who would have managed to cheat in the other tests, they would have been stuck here. She started to read:
"Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,
Two of us will help you, which ever you would find,
One among us seven will let you move ahead,
Another will transport the drinker back instead,
Two among our number hold only nettle wine,
Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line.
Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide
You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;
Second, different are those who stand at either end,
But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,
Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight."
Oh and such a cunning man he was to put the riddle in a poem on top of that. Of course wizards were familiar with poems, but the steady onslaught of information and not at all organized and always about different potions, never giving a clear idea about the position – this was indeed Slytherin.
Finally she grabbed a potion and pushed it into Harry's hands. "This one will get you to move on… I can't follow you though. I'd like to – I most certainly would, but the potion is not enough for two and I want neither of us to experience just how much those flames do indeed hurt. So… I'll take the one potion that takes me back to Lysander and Ron… and then we'll wait for you."
Harry did not seem convinced, but when she sprouted off a bit of nonsense, giving him a huge ego-boost, he finally acquiesced, letting Hermes drink the potion and finally drinking his own – they moved through the portals at equal pace.
Hermione felt at unease – not only because of the stinking troll in the room, but because Harry had just gone off to probably face one of the most evil wizards again. While Hermione understood that he had already once survived a critical confrontation, she could only pray that the scar on his forehead would somehow serve him as shield this time around as well. One could hope at least.
Returning to the chess-room, she soon saw that Ronald was still unconscious, while Luna had disposed of her Glamours – she now sat with Ron's head on her knees and waited for her.
"Is Harry…?" she dared not to talk further. Hermione smiled raggedly.
"He's moved on… if my estimations have been correct then he should still face Dumbledore's last hurdle. But I'm more than sure that he'll manage it – he is a great wizard after all."
Luna smiled at her with dreamy eyes, before she asked about the next two rooms – Hermione recounted about the troll, before she pulled out Snape's poem and handed it to her. Luna quickly flew over it.
"My… it's certainly not easy – congratulations Hermione, I bet Snape would be furious if he found out that a Gryffindor first-year cracked his puzzle."
For a moment the two of them were silent in trepidation, before they silently started giggling, trying to imagine their professor's face. Surely he'd deduct house points beyond reason, simply because his pride had been hurt by none other than the Book-Shrimp. Oh what she'd give to see his face.
It took them some time to calm down and Hermione looked at their unconscious companion. "Well, I guess we should somehow transport him back, now shouldn't we? I have no idea how to treat an unconscious person and it wouldn't do for him to not get some medical help…"
So Ronald was carefully hoisted up on a transformed stretcher and dutifully carried back through the big room. When they passed the room full of keys Hermione did not notice it. Only when they reached a certain impasse in the cave below the devil's snare, Hermione suddenly pointed out that the snare was not even moving.
Luna's eyebrows went up when she went to touch the snare, but it did not even move. "Try your flame thing again… it should react to that, shouldn't it?"
However the plant also didn't react to Hermione's bluebell flames – as if the whole magic had been drained out of it. Hermione gasped.
"Medlam's theorem!" she hollered, almost stumbling over Ron as she stepped back. "A great wizard can draw magic from his surroundings in order to nurture his own magical expense!"
It took a time for Luna to understand. "So you mean Harry is drawing magic from his surroundings?!" she asked excitedly.
Hermione wasn't so sure it was Harry who drew magic from his environment – it was complicated, advanced magic… but perhaps not too advanced for…
"Voldemort!" Luna suddenly gasped. "Oh God! Hermione you have to return, immediately! If Voldemort draws power, then the puzzles will be off, right? Harry needs you right now! I have no idea about spells and stuff but you-!"
She had already pushed Hermione into the next room and before she stumbled, she started running. Luna was right, the protective puzzles were out of order, and when Hermione arrived in the last room, all she saw was a gray cloud of ash winding out of the room. Harry lay on the floor, a blood-red stone in his hand.
Hermione sat at the table and smiled at the boys around her. They still called her the Book-Shrimp, however nowadays it seemed to be an almost affectionate nickname instead of silly name calling. She could hardly believe that it had already been a year that she had spent at this marvelous school – she had learned so much, had taught herself and had achieved so much.
Next to her, Harry flashed her a big grin – he had gotten out of the hospital wing only a few hours prior and had been welcomed into the dorm with much cheer and hollering. It did not matter that the House Cup would go, yet again, to Slytherin – they had the satisfaction of having outmaneuvered the Head Snake himself. Unfortunately Hermione had never gotten to see his face – the riddle was still hidden in her trunk in one of her many books, she'd keep it.
The hall quieted as the headmaster stood up. "Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully you heads are all a little fuller than they were...you have the whole summer ahead of get them nice and empty before next year starts... Now, as I understand it, the House Cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."
Snape looked positively smug in his seat at the Head Table, and Hermione, despite herself, clapped – out of courtesy as did the rest of the hall, there were few besides the very house that were enthusiastic about the outcome.
"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account. I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes... First to Mr. Ronald Weasley... for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years. I award Gryffindor House fifty points."
Her table roared with the many clapping and foot-stamping that was done – Ronald was patted all over again, and his older twin brothers, even hugged him close to them. Even if it still meant that Slytherin had won the House Cup, at least they were not the last now. But Dumbledore was not finished.
"Second, to Mister Hermes Granger...for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor House sixty points."
Hermione, for the first time in her life, found herself to be the center of pleasant attention – people congratulated her and smiled at her with big smiles, they had, after all, just come closer to the House Cup yet again.
"Third," Dumbledore's voice boomed, "to Mr. Harry Potter..." The room went deadly quiet. "...for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor House fifty points."
Amongst the students there was a deadly hush – Gryffindor was equally up with Slytherin, and only thanks to these 'last minute points'.
"Fourth… even though not Gryffindor, I find it necessary to award thirty points to Mister Lysander Lovegood, for heartfelt loyalty and quick thinking." The Ravenclaw smiled at Hermione, who returned the big smile.
"There are all kinds of courage," said Dumbledore finally, smiling. "It takes a great deal to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."
The poor boy had no idea what hit him – Hermione smiled at him, and patted his back friendly. Harry and Ron had recounted that Neville had tried to stop them from exiting the Tower in fear that they might lose even more points to Gryffindor; Hermione had later quickly blanketed him and put a pillow under his head.
"Which means," Dumbledore smiled as he stood up, "we need a little change of decoration." He needed but clap his hands and hold them out, it seemed, and the banners changed from Slytherin green to Gryffindor burgundy – the House Cup, for the first time since six years, went to another house but Slytherin.
Hermione, as she celebrated with her house mates, felt for the first time that she had not only done something monumentally right, but that she had also finally found a place where she belonged and could be accepted. If not as witch, then as powerful, mindful wizard.
Thank you TequilaNervous ( , Harry too is an orphan, 2. just you wait), FiaBerns (I'm sorry about the flow, I hope though that you can understand why I have to jump several details of the original story), toriashley, bushyhaired-american-nerd and EtCadetSatanStabit for the loverly reviews =)
Furthermore thanks to asnapeintime, FiaBerns, Paloma Gomes Hannah Bowers, MinervaJean, Poetica Licentia and Tenru Wingstorm for the Story Alerts and Paloma Gomes and romyblossom for the favs.
And lastly (but of course not least), my thanks to quattrecskids for the Author Alert.
Snape's poem is directly from the book - just thought to mention it.
I hope you liked it! Next chapter soon! (Sooner than this one was anyways)
REVIEW PLEASE (they make me so happy =D)
