So, I kind of sat all night to write... before reading your lovely reviews ;)
It is Hermione's second year, what will happen?
Enjoy.
Hermione pushed her hair out of her face as she set the box of firewhiskey on the counter. Tom, the landlord of the Leaky Cauldron, had kept true to his promise and had employed her for the summer, even giving her a little wage for the work she did. Mostly she carried boxes from A to B and cleared tables. It was good work, honest and tiring and Hermione relished in it.
On a Sunday morning, she had gone to her old home and had observed it for a whole day – Tom had given her off, thinking she'd go back to her orphanage one last time. Hermes had grown, but she could see the sad little something in his eyes whenever he would look at the garden. Her father had become harsher even than when she had been with them and her mother talked even less.
It wasn't until she finally saw Aunt May being allowed into the house and the company of her father that she smiled – Aunt May would make it all better, she would make the pain of the people around her go away, she'd make Hermes smile again and would get her mother to talk. And surely, if her father had allowed her on the compound already, she did him some good as well.
As she turned from her house a last time, she never noticed Hermes' eyes resting on her retreating back – the young boy quirked a smile and went back to his family.
Over the two months of pushing boxes around, Hermione had developed quite some muscles – some of which she hadn't even been aware of, but were positive that ached after her first week of work. But Tom was content with her, she never once uttered a word of complaint, and when the list for the books and tools for school came in, Hermione was proud to go pay it all with her own money.
September the first found Hermione on the Platform 9 ¾ again, a new book in hand and, yet again, the pretty owl on her shoulder that had found her the very first day. The book had been a gift from Tom, who'd insisted she'd take it as an additional token. She admitted that she had looked at it more often than not while they had passed Flourish and Blott's on their way to yet another errand.
"You've done an exemplary job, lad. Better than any of my former helpers… so I think it's good to say that this is yours and you're welcome back next year." He had clapped her shoulder and had sent her on her way.
Hermione was sure that, as she settled into an empty compartment, sticking her nose into the book, this year would be at least as interesting as the last year. For now though, she was totally enraptured by Wandless Magic – a simple title for such an interesting book.
Sitting at the table with her friends that she had seen but two months ago the last time, she smiled and applauded as her house grew bigger by the first years that were sorted. Harry and Ron were not present at the entry feast, but she did not worry too much.
Especially Harry had somehow left a sore spot within her, he had not even once responded to her letters and finally she had given up writing – the pretty owl had always come back, hooting soothingly and clipping her beak at her.
Apparently it was not a school owl, though, for sometimes she'd fly off and only return days later, but Hermione never found out who she did belong to. Also, it was highly irregular that an owl would simply fly off to be with another wizard if it already belonged to one master – but it seemed as if this particular owl did find her presence comfortable.
She sighed as she lowered her head back into her book again, swallowing up the information. Harry and Ron were both angry – very much so – at Snape, for almost having had them dispelled and for something, or somebody for having closed the gates. Ron's mother had sent a Howler and the poor guy had had to open it at the breakfast table – oh it had been horrible… and at the same time very satisfying to see that a woman stood up against a man, even if it was her own son. Molly Weasley, even if she had never attended the magical school, surely had a voice to reckon with.
Now though they had to sit through detention with Lockhart and McGonagall – Ron was sure that Harry got the better cards, having to sit his detention with Lockhart, who was apparently famous and well-liked and what not everything else.
In Hermione's opinion Lockhart was a fool – he was too sure of himself and had not even managed to keep pixies in a cage… okay, no that was wrong. He had set them free deliberately, but he hadn't been able to put them back in. Sincerely… what kind of professor was he anyways? And how the hell should he have been able to defeat a Banshee? It was unthinkable.
"Well," Harry sighed as he closed his book and rolled up his parchment for Transfiguration, "I'm down in the Great Hall, grabbing something, I'm incredibly hungry after my brain burnt all those calories doing homework." As if on cue Ron's stomach growled loudly in protest, the red-head looked ashamed, but Hermione only smiled.
"Maybe Ron should go with you. Honestly, I don't think you'll do much more than that for today, Ron. Your stomach is clearly demanding to be fed and an empty stomach does not work well." It was what Tom had told her all the time – and she had eaten heartily after her third day of work, and boy had she ever so needed it.
The red-head nodded and soon the two boys were outside, lost in her thoughts she looked after the two. Sometimes, she could swear that Ron blushed of entirely different reasons… and sometimes she could see Harry's eyes and only for a moment she imagined them to be smouldering. She shook her head and went back to her book – maybe she just imagined it.
It was hardly well into October when the first incident happened. It hit Ms Norris, Filch's cat, and if she had to place a bet, she'd have said it was petrified, but Filch would not let anyone explain – he was panicked, and really, she couldn't blame him, after all Ms Norris was the only individual who was voluntarily around him.
"You murdered her!"
Hermione turned still as stone as the Squib bore his eyes into hers, for the split of a second she was hundred percent certain that he was completely out of his mind, crazy with pain and that he would do something really, very unsavoury to the three of them. Oh if only she wouldn't have listened to Harry...
"Now, now, Argus." Dumbledore's voice cut through and she almost instantly relaxed, looking into his direction. Behind him, Snape had emerged, his eyes flittering over the trio, before resting on her and not leaving her – she only realized belatedly that she had entered a staring duel with him.
"It seems she has been petrified, but as I remember Miss Sprout's Alrauns are almost ready to be used in potions." Out of the corner of her eye she could see Miss Sprout nodding enthusiastically, her head a bright red, as it always was – due to her blood pressure, Hermione mused. "We'll be able to restore Miss Norris as soon as possible, Argus."
Filch still demanded retribution – he got retribution, in form of detention for Hermione, Ron and Harry.
"So you hear voices." Hermione sighed as they fell into their beds in the evening. Harry grunted in response, starting to undress.
Ever since she had gotten rid of her shyness to see them in certain states of undress, Hermione had gotten an eyeful of how a proper wizard should look and had adapted her Glamours. Add to that that she had developed some muscles over the summer on her own and she looked exactly like any of the boys... safe for her hair. Hermione continued to muse over her thoughts as she undressed herself, finally sure enough that her Glamours would keep her covered, she knew they did. "As far as I know that is not exactly... usual, Harry."
The black-haired boy stopped mid-air as he was about to draw his sleeping shirt, made by Ron's mum, over his head. He looked at Ron, who uneasily nodded, Harry motioned for her to continue and she did so.
"Apparently though, Voldemort himself had been a Parsletongue and if I would make an educated guess, I'd say that... well, that some of his powers were transferred to you when you got your scar. It seems logical, seeing as neither of your parents was known to have disposed of the gift to talk to snakes... and Harry, before Voldemort, Salazar Slytherin himself was the only wizard with the ability to talk to snakes."
As they lay down, their heads were set on everything but sleep. Hermione bid the boys good-night as they settled for sleep, and drew her curtains around her bed. It was nothing unusual, seeing as normally she'd still read well into the night and the boys were positively disturbed by the light emanating from her wand.
Of course that had only been a ruse to let the boys stop ask questions whenever she drew the curtains of her bed, she knew that her Glamours slipped when she slept – it wouldn't do to be discovered at night when the boys would go out for shenanigans, or when Ron would go to the kitchen because he was hungry, or when Neville would wake up from another nightmare or Harry even. No it was safer if she drew the curtains and lied a little... in the end, no one was hurt.
"That bludger's been tampered with." Hagrid scoffed as they followed the happenings on the Quidditch field. Harry was being followed by a more than persistent bludger that would risk his life every second. He'd taken to moving strategically over the field, managing to somewhat hinder the Slytherins in the wake – however the bludger persisted.
It became apparent to Hermione that whoever had charmed the bludger had not done it in favour of the game, if that would have been the case, the jinx would have been lifted in the according time – but it hadn't.
She held her breath as Harry dived for the Snitch, Malfoy close to him, but while the Slytherin had the advantage of the newer broom, Harry was more or less used to life-threatening situations and a rampant bludger was nothing short of a life-threatening situation.
In the end, she ran on the field, watching horrified as Harry barely evaded the plundering bludger, wands were not allowed on the Quidditch field and hers had been thrown from her fingers the very moment she had set foot on the surface – but Hermione prevailed, stretching her hand towards the bludger.
"Finite incatatem!"
So yes, she still had to say the spell, but she watched satisfied as the bludger dissolved into little pieces – she had just successfully cast a wandless spell. Of course Lockhart had to mess it all up in the end with his more than useless spell, removing Harry's bone completely from his arm.
On the bright side, he had not just gotten killed.
Luna looked at her with great interest. "A duel club? Do you think they will really let us try that?"
Hermione shrugged as they continued their way to Care of Magical Creatures. "I guess that they feel it's the sensible thing to do... after all, first it was Miss Norris, now however they caught Colin Creevey as well. I mean, he's only a first-year and it wasn't below them to petrify him so bad it had not even worn off. Whoever is low enough to attack a first-year is low enough to attack the rest of the school as well."
That, at least, she reasoned to herself. Dumbledore was scared that Hogwarts was not the safe place it had been before anymore and he wished, therefore, that his students would know how to defend themselves.
Hermione, however, asked herself if perhaps it had something to do with Voldemort's return. After all the dark wizard had found his ways into the walls of Hogwarts once already, who said he wouldn't be able to do it a second time?
"Let me introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher... me. Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five times winner of 'The Most Charming Smile Award', but I don't talk about that; I didn't get rid of the Banden Banshee by smiling at him."
She was convinced that any student who had the smallest ounce of pride did not listen to his stupid blabbing – as it was however, she could notice the whole room hanging to his lips. Not one person was exempt… well, maybe for Severus Snape, who stood at the far end of the room, leaned against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
In a brief moment she thought back to the riddle she had solved about him and as if he had heard her thoughts, his eyes darted to her. They did not stare at each other this time, for Hermione, as soon as she had realized that he had caught her staring at him, looked away as quickly as possible.
"Now might I present my sparring partner, Professor Snape. Do not worry though, I will return him in one piece…"
Hermione lifted an eyebrow as she watched her potions professor stalk towards the nuisance that was Gilderoy Lockhart. By the way he held himself and walked soundlessly even, she was practically sure that while most students were ecstatic about Snape being blown into shambles, their dour professor could out-duel Lockhart in his sleep during an erotic dream.
And indeed, she found that Snape blocked Lockhart's spell before the latter had even cast it efficiently. She agreed with Snape, all too quickly – a voice in her head whispered – that they would have been better off learning how to block spells. Students were quite inventive when it came to casting aggressive spells, however most victims did not even know that they could block the attacks – Hermione could sing a song of that one.
"Let's have a volunteer pair. Potter, Weasley, how about you?"
Hermione, even though she was trying to hide it, was not sure if Ron should join the hassle. Really, first of all he was not very well versed with spells and on top of that the Whomping Willow had clearly snapped his wand in two. Unable to cast a wandless Reparo Ron had glued it together with tape. In layman's terms: he was a walking menace.
Gladly though, Professor Snape spoke up. "Weasley's wand causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending Potter to the hospital wing in a matchbox."
Unfortunately it was not far away from the truth – however Hermione's feeling did not ease when the Head of Slytherin suggested that Draco would face of Harry. It was a barely acceptable duel, but it would turn out all the worse.
So, actually I will upload another chapter as well today (or tonight, depending on where in this world you sit in front of the screen) and perhaps my Muse is merciful with me and gifts me with enough energy and imagination for a third even ;)
First of all, thank you Nansa and douglas. bailey. 7946 for the Story Alerts.
Now for the reviews:
Thank you toriashley (patience ;), but yes there is a difference between a male and a female 'professor' and thank you for pointing out my error, it was Harry to get the 60 for 'saving the world' and winning the House Cup), douglas. bailey. 7946 (patience, she's only in her first year), lostmariner4803 (I like Slyths, I'm sorry you don't like the part, it was part of it however and as you can see Hermione is not rectifying it, please don't be too upset), TequilaNervous (Yes, this will be canon), JollyLoser (thank you for the very, very delighting review) and bushyhaired-american-nerd (thank you for the lovely, encouraging review).
And yes, this story will be different, but I still feel it integral, that the original story is being followed. For me it makes all the difference if someone dishes out a completely different, but perhaps not so thought through and holey, alternative story or if they stick to the original story and twist it a little to then make it a different story. I am very sorry if people don't agree with me on this, but perhaps we can all find the tolerance within us to agree to disagree and still enjoy the story for the aspects we like in it.
REVIEW PLEASE!
