Hermione Granger and the Serpent's Gaze
Chapter 1: Her Will is Stronger
It was his birthday. Without fail, of course, the Dursleys gave Harry Potter absolutely nothing but neglect and torment. What was more, something has been stopping her owls from getting to him. After the second week of no Hedwig, she knew something had to be done.
Thankfully, at Hogwarts, they had grown very close in a very short amount of time. Hermione, who had been so loved by her peers and her parents, who was loved by her teachers and only hated by a few, had found a boy. He was the very famous Harry Potter. While he was very well known and very rich, he had been bullied, tormented and neglected his entire life by foster parents who loathed him.
It was really no wonder she had gravitated toward him so readily. In their time together, he was just so happy to be involved and to be treated as an equal. This was probably a good reason why Ron and he got along so well together. They were brothers in every way but blood and Hermione didn't mind Ron so much. In fact, there were times when he was a downright friend to her. There were also times she wanted to put him in a box for a few hours until he became more tolerable.
Either way, after living in what she considered the non-magical world for the first part of her life, this wizarding world seemed like a whole new planet. To say it was like a dream would be robbing it of gravitas and she could not put into words what this new found power felt like.
In fact, judging by what Harry had been telling her through the magical journal they had each kept from last Christmas, she felt like she needed to use that power. How, though? She was barred from using magic outside of learning it in her homework and at Hogwarts until she was 17. Since she was only on her way to 13, that was not an option. She had already done all of her homework the first week she was back from home. She decided to take it easy and stifle the six parchments of essays throughout the six days and perform all of her spells then.
Using spells was out, but using magical items, that was doable. On top of the journal, she had resources now. The Weasleys being one of them. Not only did she befriend Ron, but Fred and George were his twin brothers and she absolutely loved them. While their jokes could take on a bit of a hard edge, they were allies and more when she and Harry needed them. There was also Angelina and her other dorm mates that Hermione wrote to, asking for help.
She knew Harry was in trouble, and there was no time to lose. If he wasn't receiving owls and he was seeing strange eyes in bushes and other places, then the signs were pointing to foul play. With the Dursleys the way they were, it sounded a lot like someone was trying to keep Harry from the wizarding world all together.
There was another friend she wrote to when she thought of it. Garrick Ollivander was known as the greatest wandmaker in the world by the British wizarding community. He saw her generosity, kindness and selfless act of preserving a beautiful unicorn's tail and sharing his magic with the world. He immediately gave her everything she required to make wands.
A great deal of her time was spent studying this art and one thing occurred to her: She would need to use magic to make wands. Wand creation required ridiculous amounts of patience, practice and tutelage, which Mr. Ollivander was more than happy to give. Much of his days were spent creating wands, as well as selling them in his shop and he considered teaching her the fundamentals of their creation a task of the highest priority.
Before she knew it, she had a plan.
The night was still and the air was starting to grow slightly brisk. The Dursley's house was about as boring as any of the others on the drive. For such a place of torment, it didn't strike anyone as a place that would house a wizard. This was, of course, by design.
"Now, get to your room, boy," could be heard from a stuffy voice on the inside, "they'll be here any minute and you will not lose this sale for me. Now, go!"
The doorbell sounded and there was excited tittering coming from inside. Soon, though, the door came open and there was a fan, piggish blonde child who gave a smarmy grin.
"Welcome, may I take your jacket?" He asked and Wendell, a thin, tall, brown-haired man shook his head and walked inside with his wife and daughter.
"Welcome to our humble home, would you like a beverage?" A taller, horse-faced woman greeted them with such staggeringly large teeth, it was a wonder they weren't here to see her. The mother took a drink from the tray as it was offered to her and she nodded to the lady as they entered the living space.
There, on the other side of the living space was an older, portly gentleman who seemed to have left his neck elsewhere for this meeting. He smoked a pipe that didn't seem to be lit and stood by the fireplace, which had a smoldering bunch of logs within the grate. He looked as if he were taken surprise by the three of them and he held his hands out in greeting them, shaking hands and even looking at the daughter.
"And who is this young child?" Vernon asked as he looked down at her.
"Ah, this is my daughter," Wendell said as he put his hands on her shoulders and she gave him a very strained smile that she hoped passed as genuine. "Say hello, Hermione."
"Good evening, sir." She said through gritted, buck teeth, as if she were in desperate need of a bathroom, which wasn't far from the truth.
"Good evening, my dear. You're about Dudley's age, aren't you? The little tike can always use a new friend." He said, but then looked up at the lady and they began to exchange greetings. As attention was taken off of her, Hermione's eyes went to the stairs. Then they went to Dudley, who had already lost interest in this meeting and watched the TV set closer to the kitchen. He seemed to have grabbed hold of a bag of crisps and was contently munching on them.
Her mother and father sat in the living space, on the couch while Mr. Dursley stood by the fireplace. His arms were animated as he spoke. "I tell you, we're so happy to have you over. Just two chaps talking business with the wife and kids, eh, Granger?"
Her father gave a laugh and eyed Hermione. She gave her father a reassuring smile, then looked over toward Vernon. "Mr. Dursley, may I use your loo?"
"Oh, most certainly my dear lady! Just down the hall, next to the laundry room." Vernon instructed her and she got up from the couch and scurried over with a giddy little smile that immediately disappeared as she rounded where they couldn't see her.
There was the cupboard, the one cupboard that he spoke of. To think that they would leave a little boy in such a place to live. The tetanus risks alone made her loathe the Dursleys all the more. Either way, she simply had to get the trunk out without anyone noticing.
That wouldn't have been too difficult, especially when her father started in on the talk of drills and his dental practice. However, then there came a clattering from upstairs. She immediately made her way into the bathroom to hide from sight, but looked upward with a puzzled face. What was he doing? All he had to do was stay quiet and wait for her.
There came yet more noise, a squawking came from none other than Hedwig. Just the sound of that bird made her heart sing, as she knew who was up there.
"Oh, seems Dudley left the television on upstairs. I'll be right back in a jiffy." Vernon said and Hermione's stomach suddenly gave a lurch. It was too soon. If he found out the plan now, it would be ruined.
As Dursley made his way upstairs, Hermione glanced back into the den to see that Dudley's attention was still on the tele. She couldn't handle it. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, but one false move and the whole thing was sunk. Caution to the wind was the only option. She unlocked the cupboard's padlock with magic, Alohomora was one of the few basic spells she was permitted with Ollivander's supervision.
"Locomotor Trunk." She whispered and waved her wand in a circle that brought the Hogwarts trunk up and traveled across the air, light as a feather. She was quick to close the cupboard, but she had no time to padlock it back. The lock hung there, loose. She simply brought the trunk around, the front of it.
Then she froze as Petunia Dursley's footsteps were heard from the kitchen, approaching the den. Hermione wasted no time in pulling the invisibility cloak from the back of her blouse and throwing it over the trunk as she stood in the doorway of the bathroom.
"Ah! Hello! What was your name, again?" Petunia noticed her as she brought out an entire tray of cheese and crackers with three types of sausage. As much as she hated these people, this lady certainly seemed to know how to cook. It smelled delicious and she had no problem taking a few short stacks of them.
"Hermione." She smiled at the lady, absolutely loathing the very sight of her. The whole time, she held her wand behind her back, keeping the trunk invisible and floating as if weightless. What she wanted to do was a bit more violent but she steeled herself, calming herself.
As soon as Vernon came back down from the second floor, Petunia began to make her way into the living room. Hermione immediately bit into the rest of the cracker and went up the stairs as quickly as she possibly could. She strategically placed her wand in front of her as she went up the steps behind the trunk and the invisibility cloak.
The meeting went on downstairs and Hermione went through the upstairs hallway, quiet as a mouse. That's when she heard him. Harry was speaking to someone, but who? No one else was supposed to be in the house.
"Harry Potter must not–" She opened the door quickly and looked inside to see something she most certainly did not expect. Both Harry and a short, long-eared, long nosed creature looked at her with wide, frozen eyes.
"Hermione, there you are." He whispered. Without a word, she brought his invisible trunk in and closed the door as silently as possible. They met in a loving embrace.
"Oh my God I missed you so much." She whispered in his ear and kissed his cheek twice. "I got your cloak outside your window."
"Good, I figured it had to be low enough. You're a little early. They're not here yet."
"Happy Birthday." She said before there was another large, tearful embrace. It was interrupted.
"Harry Potter!" The short little man in the burlap pillowcase jumped up and down on his bed to get his attention.
"Oh, and by the way, what is a house elf doing in here?" Hermione wondered as she looked at the short little elf with huge green eyes. Her first thought was that he did have enough Galleons to afford one, but it still seemed far fetched.
"Dobby's the name, madam. Dobby the house elf. Please, forgive Dobby's intrusion, but Dobby was just talking to the famous and great Harry Potter about how Harry Potter must not go to Hogwarts this year!" Dobby said in a high pitched, nasally voice. This caused Hermione to go absolutely still and her eyes to narrow toward him.
"I'm sorry, it almost sounded like–" Hermione looked at Harry and he shrugged.
"He tells me something bad is going to happen this year and someone is trying to kill me." Harry motioned toward him with yet another shrug. "I keep telling him that I have to go back, I don't really have a choice."
"Kill you? Who on Ear– well, besides the obvious." Hermione looked off to the side and rubbed her arms together. Then she looked at the elf, who was shivering in his legs. "Well? Are you here on behalf of Lord Vol–"
"Ah! No!" He shouted, making both of them shush him with their hands raised. Hermione looked off toward the door and heard Vernon falter, obviously having heard such a loud voice.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to– look, we don't have time for this. My parents are putting on a show downstairs for this very purpose. They have no interest in buying stockpiles of drills. I'm taking Harry out of this room and we are going to Hogwarts, whether there's a plot on his life or not. It's not as if this is any different from last year." She said in such a dismissive way, Harry seemed rather impressed.
"Hermione doesn't understand, my– Oh!" He grabbed his ears and pulled them down painfully as he gritted his teeth. Then he grabbed hold of Harry's desk lamp and held it at a forward angle, rearing it before Hermione grabbed hold of it very quickly.
"What are you doing?!" Hermione whispered to him intensely. "Are you mad?"
"He keeps saying he has to punish himself for… bad thoughts?" Harry blinked and tilted his head toward the strange little elf. "Why can't you tell me who is trying to kill me, Dobby?"
"Because Dobby can't. A house elf's entire life, power and thought must be in service to their master. Dobby has no choice, Harry Potter, but Harry Potter does! You must swear to Dobby that you will not go to Hogwarts this year. Harry Potter can go next year." Dobby said, until he was startled by Hermione's wand coming very close to his head.
"I've had just about enough of that talk, Dobby. Either you tell us who is after Harry or we're going to Hogwarts regardless." Hermione said, hoping that iterated the fact that they were going to Hogwarts, period. She wasn't entirely sure, she was growing rather angry.
"Hermione doesn't understand. Dobby is trying to save Harry Potter! S-s-students can't do magic–"
"Oh, yes I can. I know some very handy spells that would help in this occasion and I will walk right back into Hogwarts as if nothing happened." She inched closer toward him with a menacing look. She was met with defiance.
"Dobby… must… save… Harry… P–"
"Depulso!" There was a yelp, a crash through the window, and yet another crash as Dobby landed squarely on the Dursley's new car. The alarm began to echo throughout the neighborhood and both Harry and Hermione looked at it with dull, distant looks, as if it did not just happen.
"Time to go." Hermione said.
"Yes." Harry agreed.
They got the window open as Hermione pulled his trunk out of the way and pulled Dudley's old, broken down chest of drawers in front of the door to barricade it. She could already hear Vernon thumping up the steps, yelling at the top of his lungs about his new car.
From the second floor window, Hermione could already see her parents running toward their car. They even looked back at their daughter and waved to her, she waved back and gave them the "okay" sign.
"What, they seriously helped you with this?" Harry asked, and she nodded, grinning. "How on Earth did you manage that?"
"I told them I went on an adventure last year and I said I needed help to go on another." Hermione said and Harry looked at her with copious amounts of incredulity. "Oh, just go with it!" She waved him off as she opened the window wider and pushed the floating trunk out of it, letting it begin its slow descent downward. After grabbing Hedwig in her cage, both Harry and Hermione hopped onto it, and it only lurched downward slightly, making her yelp.
"There they are!" Hermione said and there came a bright blue Ford Anglier down the street. With its headlights shining toward him, Harry finally saw who was behind the wheel when it stopped alongside the two of them.
"Get in!" Ron said as he rolled down the window. From the front seat, Fred jumped out of the car and helped her load the trunk into the back of the car.
"See? Criminal getaways and service with a smile!" Fred smiled big as he shut the trunk and they all started to pile in. As soon as Vernon muscled his way out the front door of his house, Hermione threw Fred a ball, who twisted it and tossed it the raging muggle's way.
"Where do you think you're going! You rotten little–" There suddenly became a loud spewing noise from the ground at his feet. "GAH!" He began to cough uncontrollably.
Fred jumped in through the window of the car as it was rolling forward and George kicked it into high gear! The engine was roaring down the street and Vernon Dursley was a wheezing, hacking spot in the distance before they rounded a corner.
"Oi, George! Stay in the line!" Ron said from the back and George shot him a look.
"When I'm at this steering wheel, there will be no backseat driving, or you'll be taking the Knight Bus home!" George went back to looking at the road. "Now, Hermione, I think we've been more than patient with you. What's all of this about, eh? You send us a letter, telling us to meet you here at 9:30 pm and you'll explain. Well, here we are."
"I knew something was wrong and I was right! Harry was being stalked by a house elf." Hermione said and Harry was still shaking his head at that.
"Yeah, that's right. What is this about house elves? Are they common?" Harry asked, "and do they normally break into your life and steal all of your friend's letters as they're sent on owls?"
"Is that what happened?" Ron asked, and Harry nodded at him. "I was wondering why you weren't sending letters."
"He said he heard there was a plot on my life and that something horrible was going to happen at Hogwarts this year." Harry said and Fred balked at the notion.
"Oh, yeah, there's a change alright. Something's always terrorizing the school. The year before you got here, Harry, there was an evil ghost who tried to hold the school ransom. Mind you, not a lot of people paid attention to him. He couldn't do much but make you feel uncomfortable and cold." Fred remembered. "I think I like a blood-sucking You-know-who a lot better."
"Oh, come off it!" Ron glared at Fred then turned to George. "Are we flying or what? The road is clear."
"Oi! What did I say about that backseat driving? Mind you, I did space out a bit and forgot about it there, so it was warranted." George said and then pulled a few levers, while Fred hit the button that turned the car invisible. Soon, they were flying.
"What?!" Harry asked and Hermione was also quite flabbergasted to see that they were actually taking flight and gaining altitude. They were gaining so much air that her hand suddenly went to his and she buckled her seatbelt tight.
While Hermione was gaining up her wits at this height, Harry told them all about the elf that was bound and determined to keep him from going to Hogwarts.
"None of this makes any sense," Fred sat in the seat then pointed out to George that he was a few decimals too far west. "A house elf is supposed to remain utterly and totally loyal, yet one of them goes against his master's wishes and tells you about their evil plot? And he wouldn't tell you which family he was from?"
"No, anytime he came close, he just started bashing his head against something." Harry recalled and all of the Weasleys exchanged odd looks.
"I don't remember a house elf sneaking into my room and trying on my socks while telling me our toilet was due to overflow. What's all this about?" George wondered and it was hard to think, with such a pretty night all around them in a clear, dark blue sky.
"The ghoul did that once or twice, but he more just grunted and drooled than warned us of anything." Fred recalled. "So, what's You-know-who going to be this time? A mummy, you suppose?"
"My lot's on zombie." Ron admitted, drawing a disgusted look from Hermione. "What? You don't die that many times and come back human."
"Either way, you're safe now. No muggles to force you into chores this time around. Now, it'll just be our mother." George admitted and Harry snickered. Nice, plump Mrs. Weasley was among some of the most warm and motherly sorts Harry had ever met. Mind you, with seven children, she ought to be. Still, it was clear from the offset that she took a shine to Harry Potter the moment she laid eyes on him.
It wasn't long before their conversations went into other things. Their minds were that the house elf and whatever evil plots he predicted, could wait. Hermione didn't mind that they went to Quidditch as a topic, as three of them were of the seven members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and Ron was an avid fan.
Hermione leaned her head on Harry's shoulder and they sat there with their hands clasped together. She whispered how much she missed him and couldn't stop telling him how happy she was to be there. He was safe.
The sun crept over the horizon. Hermione even got a bit of a nap on Harry's shoulder. He couldn't sleep, though. His excitement was mounted so high, he and the Weasley brothers couldn't seem to stop laughing.
It wasn't long before they finally made it to the Burrow and it was a breath of fresh air. The whole place looked as if it would collapse at a moment's notice. It started as a simple pigpen, and apparently grew to much larger size and began to stack new layers. Hermione figured that they stacked a new story on top once a new child was born.
"Well, Harry, welcome to the Burrow!" Ron said with some pride, though it wasn't enthusiastic.
"It's brilliant!" Harry smiled as they parked in the side of the house, where there was a shed that acted as a garage. It looked as if it had been smashed against the side of the house, but it seemed to be standing rather steadily.
"Alright, you lot, it's time to be quiet." George said as they got out of the car and very silently closed the doors. "You two, get to Ron's room." He said at just a hair above a whisper.
"Well!" All of them jumped as Mrs. Weasley stood at the entrance between the garage and the house. Her hands were planted firmly at her sides as she glared at the three red tufts of hair that marked them as targets. "I suppose you think you were being very clever, were you? Stealing your father's car and not a single bit of notice!" Then she turned to Harry and Hermione and her face immediately turned into a warm smile and tender embraces to the two of them. "Hello, my dears, so good to see you again. Ron has been positively spellbound by the both of you. I can't thank you enough for what you've done for this family."
"Yeah, he's great." Ron agreed and Fred and George played along until she rounded on them once again.
"Alright, you three! I don't know if you think you were being clever, but I tell you, you are in for the longest round of chores yet!" She shouted and all three brothers groaned. "Off you go! Get started or you'll not see a single sausage!" Then she motioned for the two others to follow as she put on her apron and got to the kitchen. While the three Weasleys went off to do their mother's bidding in the garden, she began preparing utensils, pots and spices.
"We're sorry to intrude, Mrs. Weasley." Hermione said in a small, meek little voice. Mrs. Wealsey clucked indignantly at this remark.
"Oh, my dear, if there were two more welcome guests, I wouldn't know them! Mr. Weasley and I were talking about going off to save Harry ourselves if we didn't get an owl soon. Ron was so worried about him, but I didn't think the three of them would sink to this level."
She suddenly began doing what seemed like five things all at once. She filled pots with water while they floated to the stove, which lit aflame. She had two knives cutting green onions and white onions, dishes cleaning themselves, mixing milk, eggs and flour, while Mrs. Weasley herself cut mushrooms, sausages and cream into another pot.
"I swear, they get it from their father. They love mischief, adventure, Quidditch, anything that will get them into some kind of trouble with the ministry and St. Mungo's. I can't tell you how many owls I've gotten from the twins alone, and then everything that happened with…" She looked at the two of them and they looked away from her, growing pink with a bit of shame.
She gave them coffee, as she figured they needed something more than tea at that moment. Then she put sausage, bacon, stew and toast in front of them in very quick succession. Harry very quietly ate while Hermione listened to Mrs. Weasley rant and watched her as she did just about everything in the kitchen with magic. To think, if her mother knew all of these spells, they could have decided to give Hermione siblings.
Somehow, Mrs. Weasley was able to put together just about any serving within a few minutes. It was as if cooking and quickly cleaning up after herself were a reflex, something she did without even thinking about it consciously. Hermione viewed this strange muscle memory and noticed that she was also doing all of these spells nonverbally. She talked while doing this, meaning she could talk while thinking up the incantations in her head at the same time. Such a stimulation of muscle, thought, motion and casual conversation was truly something to behold. Hermione looked to Harry, then looked to Mrs. Weasley. Then she thought of the mirror.
"Alright, boys! That's enough for the moment, come and eat!" Molly said to her sons, "and don't you dare think of touching a fork until you've washed your hands!"
"I'm so grateful for your hospitality." Hermione said, though, it may have been the caffeine talking. The buzz going through her head was rather harsh. "We don't need to be here for very long, I'll be going to Diagon Alley–"
"Hermione, don't say such a thing! With Bill and Charlie moved out of the house, we have more space than we know what to do with." Molly said and Ron scoffed.
"If we didn't need an extra room for Percy's ego." He said and everyone but Mrs. Weasley laughed. His mother scowled at him.
"Either way, both of you are welcome for as long as you like. Merlin knows, Ron can apparently use someone to look after him and make sure he doesn't commit robberies!" There was another scowl toward the three of them once again. They pretended not to notice.
"I wouldn't mind staying for a while." Harry said as he grinned at them all. Hermione was of the same mind. The air of this place was so loose and the idea of a real wizarding family was absolutely fascinating to her. Not to mention, Mrs. Weasley showed her prospects of magic that she had never seen, nor even considered before now and that led her to looking over the books in the corner of the kitchen. She gathered her plates and walked over to the sink, where the scrubbers and soap water graciously accepted them and began to vigorously rub them down.
While there were some cookbooks as Hermione thought, that was not all of them. Some of them were, strangely, autobiographical novels by some guy named Gilderoy Lockhart. The name sounded familiar, and sure enough, there was Wanderings with Werewolves, like Parvati had. Along with it was Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests, Gadding with Ghouls, Marauding with Monsters, Voyages with Vampires, then started her other collection of cookbooks and romance novels Hermione didn't recognize at all.
"Good morning, Weasleys!" Said a voice as the front door opened.
"Hey Dad!" The boys said and Molly rose to welcome her husband home.
"Busy day at the ministry, of course. Found another pack of troll dolls." Arthur put his floppy green hat on the side table and put his briefcase near it as well.
"Troll dolls? The ones with the hair?" Harry asked as he finished his third helping of eggs and sausage.
"No, the dolls that are life-like replicas of trolls, all the way down to the detail of them thrashing your house with blunt objects." Mr. Weasley said as he smelled the food and was immediately drawn toward it. Then he stopped scooting his seat forward as he eyed him at the table. "Good lord, you're Harry Potter!" He said and that was when Hermione looked up.
"Wait a minute! Mr. Weasley!" She finally placed his voice and looked at him for the first time since he arrived. Arthur Weasley looked over at her with wide eyes and he positively beamed as he rose.
"Hermione! My dear child! When did you get here?" He got up from the table and embraced her as a dear friend.
"She got here this morning with Harry in your car!" Molly said and this gave him pause as he was about to take his seat again with Hermione sitting next to him and Harry.
"Car?" Arthur Weasley suddenly looked startled and slightly panicked.
"Yes, the car, the one you enchanted to fly without my knowledge or, as I suspect, the ministry's!" Molly pointedly accused him and he began to stutter.
"Well, you see, my dear, it's always good to have such means of transportation when in need of alternatives." He reasoned and she leaned in, making him shrink back more.
"It's always good to keep your wife in the know so that she does not find out when three petulant little boys, who happen to be your offspring, go out on flying rescue missions! This is irresponsible behavior Arthur and I will not have you setting such a bad example for already frightfully behaved children!" Molly shouted at all four of them at the table.
"Oh, mother, you wound us!" Fred and George said simultaneously. This drew another scornful look at them, but then she shook her head and was obviously done with it.
"Either way! Chickens fed! Broom shed swept! Rooms cleaned or I swear this week will birth more new and exciting chores! Off!" She shouted and all of them cleaned their plates before marching off to do her bidding. Then she looked toward Hermione and Harry. "Now that you're fed, dears, go on up, take some baths, and find some beds. You both look like you've been through battlefields."
"Well, is it alright if we help them with chores?" Harry asked, and looked at Hermione. "This is more or less my fault."
"Yes, and, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione looked off to the side as her face became very red. "This was my idea from the start. Please, don't take it so hard on them. They were helping because I asked them to and I wanted to get Harry out of that house."
There was a long moment where Molly looked at Hermione and she sighed. "Well, child, they could have told you no, but…" There was another long pause and Molly sighed, deflating some. "Very well, but those chores need to get done anyway. Off to bed, both of you. There'll be plenty of time to catch up."
Without another word, both Harry and Hermione made their way to Charlie's old room and shut the door. She had to admit, she was rather exhausted after everything that had happened that night. At the same time, though, being with Harry again energized her to the point where they were both lying in bed beside one another, talking excitedly about their next year at Hogwarts.
"Still, though, what do you make of what Dobby said? Do you think it's all true? If Lord Voldemort struck at us last year, would he do so again?" Hermione asked all of these questions and Harry shook his head the entire time.
"I don't think Lord Voldemort will be in any condition to come after us again. We left him in just as bad a state as when he first attacked me. I'm fairly certain we reset his plans to page one." Harry remembered what Dumbledore said, that he was not dead. If that were true then he wondered if there was a way to kill such a creature. "Remember, even after ten years, becoming a solid entity and draining life from things as a vampire still did not bring him to full power. It's been barely two months, if that. There's no telling how long it will take him to even take on the form of a ghost."
"There are just so many unanswered questions, Harry. About that night, about you and about him. I want so badly to understand…" Hermione looked over at him. That mystery wrapped within human flesh. To think, such a boy could exist.
"I know, and I'm fairly certain there are people who know the answers. For some reason, they either don't want to tell me or don't think they can tell me. This year, I think I'll start asking a few more questions." Harry said, and Hermione hummed her affirmation.
He turned to her, her eyes were closed, but she wasn't quite asleep yet. He waited for a moment, looking at her to see if she opened her eyes.
"Not to mention I wanted to color my hair orange and sing the American national anthem at Hogwarts on the first day." He said, and her head was slowly drooping to the side as she hummed a much slower agreement. After another moment, she drew in a sharp breath and began to very quietly snore.
Harry was soon to follow.
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