Chapter 2: Unwanted Adventure
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Total Words: 9,926
Lessons were Hermione's favorite part of the day. Professor McGonagall was probably one of her favorite professors, and she always worked hard in Transfiguration to earn points for Gryffindor and to get the spells right. Charms was a fun subject too; tiny Professor Flitwick was always kind and had fun things for them to work on, and he always gave out points freely when students were doing well and working hard. While most students seemed to be bored into a stupor in Professor Binns's class (History of Magic), Hermione paid close attention; learning about all the things that had gone on in magical history had been much more interesting than the Muggle schools she had attended. The only class that she was a little nervous about was Potions... Professor Snape, the Potions Master, wasn't very friendly at all and no matter how hard she worked, he didn't seem to warm up to her.
She was also just getting used to the castle; with all of its moving staircases and trick steps and walls that pretended to be doors, it had almost made her late for class a few times. Hermione counted it as a blessing that she liked to leave so early.
In her first Transfiguration class, Professor McGonagall had given the class a small speech before they began.
"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."
Hermione had nearly jumped out of her skin with excitement as she turned her desk into a pig and back again, but McGonagall said they were going to start much smaller and gave them all matches to turn into needles. Hermione took notes and was the only person in the class who managed to get hers to turn all pointy and silver; she earned a rare smile from the Professor and spent the rest of the day beaming.
Her first Potions lesson hadn't gone quite as well.
"Ah, yes... Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity." Professor Snape had said as he started class. He went through the roster, calling every student's name, and when he finished, he, too, gave a small speech to the class.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." He spoke in barely a whisper and Hermione found herself on the edge of her seat. She was absolutely determined to prove to him she wasn't a dunderhead.
"Potter!" Professor Snape barked, making the class jump, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Hermione's hand shot into the air - this was an easy question. They helped make the Draught of Living Death; she had read it in her textbook over the summer.
"I don't know, sir," Harry replied. Professor Snape sneered at him, ignoring Hermione completey.
"Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Although her hand was already raised, Hermione tried to raise it higher. Another easy question; it was a stone in the stomach of a goat! She was quite glad she had read her books before term had begun.
"I don't know, sir," came Harry's answer.
Still ignoring Hermione blatanly, Professor Snape became colder.
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"
Hermione thought this was quite unfair; she was prepared to answer his questions and didn't understand why the Professor was being so mean to Harry.
"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
This time Hermione actually stood up, her hand shaking slightly from the effort of holding it up. Monkshood and wolfsbane were the same thing - it was a trick question!
"I don't know," Harry's voice had become very quiet. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"
Some people laughed; Hermione rather appreciated him pointing her out - after all, she just wanted to answer the questions and perhaps earn some House points - but this seemed to only make Professor Snape more irritated.
"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"
The students that hadn't had their quills and parchment out at the beginning of class quickly scrambled to get them ready, taking notes on Professor Snape's short lecture.
"And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."
The fact that he had taken points from Gryffindor because Harry didn't know the answers struck Hermione as annoying and odd; no other teacher treated him so poorly. Perhaps he just didn't like Gryffindors... but Hermione guessed that there was more to it than that. Professor Snape set them to work on a basic cure for boils and swept menacingly about the dungeon as the students weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs. All of a sudden, green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon; Neville had managed to melt Seamus's cauldron and now the potion was spreading across the floor, burning holes in people's shoes as it went. The whole class quickly jumped up onto their stools, trying to avoid it while Neville moaned in pain - there were angry red boils springing up all over his arms and legs.
"Idiot boy!" Snape spat angrily, clearing away the potion with his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
Now boils were popping up on Neville's nose and he whimpered in pain and fear.
"Take him to the hospital wing," Professor Snape said to Seamus, clearly in a worse mood than before. He rounded on Harry and Ron. "You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."
Hermione thought this was quite unfair, but didn't say anything for fear of provoking the Professor to take more points away. She waited until Potions was over, roughly an hour later, before hurrying out of the dungeon, eager to get away from the Potions Master and his love for taking points from her House.
...
One morning at breakfast, Hermione got her copy of the Daily Prophet. Ever since she had learned about the wizarding newspaper, she had asked her parents if they would allow her to get a subscription so she knew what was going on in the magical world. As she combed through the paper, an article caught her attention:
Gringotts Break-In Latest
Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.
Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.
"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.
Hermione couldn't believe it - Gringotts was said to be the safest place to keep anything you needed. How could someone just break in and take something so easily? She recalled when she had visited with her parents and seen the poem on the front door:
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
With a shudder at the thought of what kinds of protection that bank had, Hermione turned back to her breakfast, folding the paper back up and tucking it in her bag. She thought the article was quite interesting and spent the rest of the morning wondering what had been taken so easily from such a well-guarded place.
...
If she was being completely honest, Hermione was not looking forward to her first flying lesson. It would be both the Gryffindors and Slytherins, and she wasn't sure about flying in the first place, let alone trying to do it in front of all these people. It was one of the few subjects that she didn't feel wholly confident in.
Their first lesson took place on the grounds opposite the Forbidden Forest, which looked menacing as always. The Slytherins had already gathered by the broomsticks laying in neat lines on the ground when the Gryffindors got there. Madam Hooch was their teacher; she had short grey hair and sharp yellow eyes - Hermione thought she looked rather hawk-like. No wonder she was in charge of all things that had to do with being airborne.
"Well, what are you all waiting for? Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up." She had a crisp, no-nonsense voice. "Stick your hand over the broom and say, 'Up!'"
"UP!" Came the shouts of twenty or so students. Hermione's broom simply rolled over on the ground and she looked sideways to see that Harry Potter had been one of a very few number of students that had managed to get his broom to come to him.
"All right. When you mount a broom, you keep a firm grip on the front like this - " Madam Hooch demonstrated with her broom - "and don't let go." She went around the group and corrected everyone's grip; Hermione found some satisfaction in her telling Malfoy, who had been bragging about how much he had flown, that he had been doing it wrong for years. Once everyone had a proper grip, she went back to the front of the group and faced them.
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - three - two - "
The whole class looked as Neville, who had been nervous and jumpy, kicked off before Madam Hooch had whistled.
"Come back, boy!" She yelled at him, but Neville had already shot up twelve feet - twenty feet - he couldn't seem to get control, and his white face stared down at the students below. All of a sudden, he gasped, slipped sideways, and fell off of the broom, which drifted lazily towards the angry-looking forest. Madam Hooch was immediately by Neville's side, her face almost as white as his, and looking at his arm.
"Broken wrist... come on, boy - it's all right, up you get." She helped Neville stand and then turned back to the rest of the class. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say, 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."
Neville's face was streaked with tears now and he hobbled off with the help of Madam Hooch. Once they were out of sight, Malfoy began to laugh.
"Did you see his face, the great lump?" He said, the other Slytherins joining in his laughter now.
"Shut up, Malfoy," Parvati Patil snapped. Hermione was grateful that she had said something. There was no need for Malfoy to be so rude and insensitive.
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" Pansy Parkinson, a rather pug-faced Slytherin girl called. "Never thought you'd like fat little cry-babies, Parvati."
"Look! It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." He reached for the Rememberall that Neville had gotten earlier. It glittered and gleamed in the sunshine.
Suddenly, Harry spoke up. "Give it here, Malfoy." The whole class froze, watching what was going to happen next.
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about - up a tree?" Malfoy smirked and mounted his broomstick - Hermione was displeased to see that he wasn't entirely lying when he said he could fly.
"Give it here!" Harry yelld at him.
"Come and get it, Potter!" Malfoy taunted him. Hermione saw Harry grip his broom and she gripped Harry's arm.
"No! Madam Hooch told us not to move - you'll get us all into trouble." She didn't think he would put the rest of the House at risk by doing something so foolish. Malfoy wasn't worth it. But Harry ignored her. She watched with a rather disgusted look on her face as he mounted his broom and kicked off. He seemed to be enjoying himself. Hermione hoped that none of the professors were watching, otherwise they could get all their points taken away.
"Give it here," she heard Harry say to Malfoy, who looked a little uncomfortable that Harry had taken the bait, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"
Now, really, Hermione thought. That was just going to get them in more trouble!
"Oh yeah?" Malfoy answered. Although Hermione couldn't see his face very well, it didn't look like he was feeling as cocky as he had been before. She watched anxiously as Harry suddenly sped towards Malfoy, who just managed to get out of the way in time.
"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy!" Harry taunted.
"Catch it if you can, then!" Malfoy finally called, throwing the glass ball into the air and making his way back down to solid ground as quickly as he could.
The entire class watched with bated breath as Harry leaned forward and began to dive - he was gathering speed - and then he pulled out just in time to fall onto the grass, the Rememberall clutched in his hand.
"HARRY POTTER!" A voice echoed across the grounds; Hermione's heart sank. They were in for it! It was Professor McGonagall and she looked shaken. She was running towards the students and reached them as Harry got to his feet. Hermione noticed that he was shaking slightly. "Never - in all my time at Hogwarts - "
The professor seemed almost speechless as she spoke. " - how dare you - might have broken your neck - "
"It wasn't his fault, professor - "
"Be quiet, Miss Patil - "
"But Malfoy - "
"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."
Hermione wasn't happy to see Harry get in trouble, but the worst part was Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle looking so elated that they had possibly gotten him expelled. The class watched as he was marched up to the castle, looking quite dejected.
...
Later on that day, there were rumors flying around that not only did Harry Potter not get expelled, but he was put onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team! Hermione refused to believe this. She couldn't imagine a teacher not punishing a student for blatant disobedience, and was honestly surprised when she saw Harry at dinner, sitting with that Ron Weasley and whispering. As she filled her plate, she saw the red-headed twins - Fred and George - make their way over to him and seemingly congratulate him. Maybe there was something to those rumors, after all.
Hermione was about halfway through her dinner when the twins left and were replaced with Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. Oh, this isn't going to go well... she thought, straining to listen in to what they were saying.
"Having a last meal, Potter?" She heard him say. "When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"
"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you."
"I'd take you anytime on my own. Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"
Oh, no, that's going to get them in so much trouble if they accept. Hermione frowned. She had read about duels in her books - they usually ended with one of the parties dying. While Malfoy and Harry weren't fully-fledged wizards yet, they could possibly do some damage if a spell went wrong.
"Of course he has," she heard Ron retort, yanking her out of her thoughts. "I'm his second, who's yours?"
Malfoy looked at his two "friends," clearly sizing them up. Hermione did not like where this was going. Someone had to stop them...
"Crabbe. Midnight, all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle left. Harry turned to Ron, a rather puzzled look on his face.
"What is a wizard's duel? And what do you mean, you're my second?"
"Well, a second's there to take over if you die - but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."
So Ron understood how dangerous this could be and was still going to let Harry go through with it? They're absolutely mad! Hermione thought to herself. And they'll lose us our points and the House Cup on top of it. I have to say something.
"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"
"Throw it away and punch him on the nose." At this suggestion, Hermione felt she had to intervene.
"Excuse me?"
"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" Ron said, looking sour. Hermione, though she thought this was quite rude, decided to ignore it.
"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying - " she began.
"Bet you could," Ron muttered; she ignored this too.
" - and you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's very selfish of you."
Harry snapped, "And it's really none of your business."
"Good-bye," Ron added as they both got up and left Hermione to finish her meal by herself.
...
Hermione spent the rest of the day finishing up some of her homework and thinking of a way to stop Harry and Ron from doing something incredibly stupid. So many things could go wrong; it would be a miracle if the two of them escaped detention, expulsion, or even worse. When the rest of the Gryffindors had gone to bed, Hermione stayed up and waited, sitting in one of the squashy armchairs. She kept the light off so they wouldn't notice her immediately, hoping she was wrong and that they would re-think their decision. They didn't. Hermione heard them trying to quietly creep out around half-past eleven.
"I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry," she said sadly, turning on the light beside her.
"You!" Ron said; he sounded incredulous. "Go back to bed!"
"I almost told your brother. Percy - he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this." She was telling the truth. Percy had been one of many options that had swirled through her head earlier that afternoon.
"Come on," Harry told Ron, clearly not going to listen to Hermione's protests. They climbed through the portrait hole; Hermione followed, infuriated now.
"Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the House Cup, and you'll lose all the pointes I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about switching spells."
"Go away."
"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so - "
But she was cut short. As she had turned around to go back into Gryffindor Tower, she realized that the Fat Lady had taken a nighttime stroll and was no longer in her portrait. That meant she was locked out.
"Now what am I going to do?" She cried, now more upset than ever.
"That's your problem. We've got to go, we're going to be late." Ron beckoned Harry along and Hermione watched them go, debating on what to do next. If she waited until the Fat Lady got back, she ran the risk of being caught. But if she went with them, she would also run the risk of being caught. But staying still seemed like the worse of the two ideas; at least if she tagged along, there was a chance of escape. Maybe Malfoy wouldn't even show up and they would all head back soon and be in bed before they were missed! She decided to follow them, catching up with Harry and Ron as they reached the end of the corridor.
"I'm coming with you."
"You are not."
"D'you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up." It sounded like a good plan to her.
"You've got some nerve - " Ron began heatedly, but Harry interrupted.
"Shut up, both of you! I heard something."
There was a sort of snuffling, almost like a soft snore.
"Mrs. Norris?" Ron asked quietly, not daring to speak any louder.
When the three of them came closer to the noise, they realized it wasn't Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, but Neville. He was asleep on the floor, curled up into a ball. He jerked awake.
"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get into bed." Hermione had never felt so bad for someone as she listened. Poor Neville.
"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's 'Pig Snout' but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere."
"How's your arm?" Harry asked.
"Fine. Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute." Neville showed off his completely healed wrist.
"Good - well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later - "
"Don't leave me! I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already." Neville scrambled to his feet and spoke with a shaking voice. Ron looked at his watch and gave both Neville and Hermione a furious look.
"If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you."
Hermione was about to tell Ron that the Curse was just to give someone a cold and what the incantation was when Harry shushed her and ushered them all forward. They made their way through the halls and to the third floor, finally entering the trophy room, but Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. The moonlight made the crystal cups, shields, and statues glitter and shine but it remained empty, though the four of them waited for a long while.
"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron said, sounding hopeful.
All of a sudden, there was a noise in the next room; they all jumped as they heard a voice speak, and it wasn't Malfoy.
"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."
It was Filch.
They all made a mad dash for the door, Neville barely making it around the corner before Filch was in the room where they just occupied. Hermione knew he had Mrs. Norris with him and hoped that she hadn't caught any of their scents in time. Otherwise they were all doomed.
"They're in here somewhere... probably hiding." It sounded like Filch was getting nearer. Harry moved them along a gallery filled with suits of armor; Neville tripped suddenly and grabbed Ron around the waist. Hermione watched in horror as the two fell right into one of the suits, making a ruckus loud enough to wake the entire castle.
"RUN!" Harry yelled to them; they all began to sprint down the gallery and followed him through one corridor after another, finally coming through a tapestry near the Charms classroom. They all paused, breathing hard and trying to calm their racing heartbeats. "I think we've lost him." Harry finally panted.
"I - told - you," Hermione could barely get the words out through the stitch in her chest. "I - told - you."
"We've got to get back to Gryffindor Tower, quickly as possible." Ron, too, was having trouble breathing, but Hermione agreed with him. She wished she had never left it in the first place. Tonight wasn't worth all this trouble.
"Malfoy tricked you. You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you - Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off." This irritated her even more than she already was. Neither Harry nor Ron answered her.
"Let's go."
They had just begun to walk back when a doorknob rattled and something shot out in front of them; the only thing that could make their predicament worse: Peeves. He squealed with joy at finding four students out of bed, and Hermione's heart sank.
"Shut up, Peeves - please - you'll get us thrown out."
But Peeves just cackled. "Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."
"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please."
"Should tell Filch, I should. It's for your own good, you know." Peeves's eyes seemed to glitter. Hermione wasn't sure what to do; they couldn't be in much worse of a spot.
"Get out of the way!" Ron said, taking a swipe at Peeves. Hermione wished she had stopped him just a second later.
"STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!" Peeves yelled as loudly as he could manage. They all made a run for it, sprinting until they ran into the door at the end of the corridor; it was locked.
"This is it! We're done for! This is the end!" Ron sounded close to hysteria, but Hermione wasn't about to get thrown out. She heard Filch's footsteps getting closer and knew she had to act quickly.
"Oh, move over," she snapped; grabbing Harry's wand, she tapped the lock and muttered, "Alohamora." The door swung open immediately. They all slid through and then pressed their ears to the door, trying to hear what was going on outside.
"Which way did they go, Peeves? Quick, tell me."
"Say 'please.'"
"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now where did they go?"
"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please." Peeves sounded like he was quite enjoying himself.
"All right - please." Filch sounded quite angry.
"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you don't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!" Filch cursed as Peeves whooshed away; there was a collective exhale of relief from the four standing behind the door. They seemed to be okay.
"He thinks this door is locked. I think we'll be okay - get off, Neville!" Harry said; Neville had been tugging on his sleeve for the past minute. "What?"
They all turned and saw exactly what Neville was so worried about. They weren't as safe as they thought they were. They were in the forbidden third-floor corridor; and it was now quite apparent why it was forbidden.
There was a giant three-headed dog staring at them with six rolling, crazy eyes; three noses, twitching and sniffing in their direction; three mouths packed with rows of sharp, yellow teeth. The only reason they weren't dead yet, Hermione surmised, was that they had shocked it just as much as it was shocking them now. But her eyes trailed downward and saw that it wasn't just standing on a floor...
All of a sudden, they were on the floor outside of the door. Harry had opened it and now the four of them gathered their wits about them and took off down the corridor, barely realizing where they were going until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady once more.
"Where on earth have you all been?" She asked, eyeing them all suspiciously.
"Never mind that - pig snout, pig snout," Harry gasped at her; they all scrambled back into the safety of the common room, catching their breath and sitting down in the squashy armchairs. Neville looked as pale as the House ghosts and the rest of them stayed in a kind of shocked silence for a few moments... and then Ron spoke.
"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" He sounded angry. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."
Hermione couldn't believe that they hadn't noticed what it was standing on. Didn't any of them pay attention?
"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you? Didn't you see what it was standing on?"
"The floor?" Harry said, much to Hermione's irritation. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."
"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something." She stood up. "I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed - or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."
She made her way to the girls' dormitory, quite glad to be rid of the three boys and done with that night. It had been too much of an adventure for her and she was very glad they hadn't ended up in trouble or on the train home. She wished they hadn't stumbled into the forbidden corridor, however; now her mind kept swirling around what that giant dog could possibly be guarding...