"I'm not allowed to leave the castle, Harry," she droned for what was at least the dozenth time that week.
The other Gryffindor hadn't once backed down from trying to convince her. Draco had listened to her reasoning and agreed, and Ron just told Harry he was barmy for trying to change her mind.
The last Hogsmeade weekend of the year had arrived, and he insisted it wasn't right to miss the last chance for freedom (and shopping for sweets, though he didn't say that).
"I'm telling you I have a foolproof way." Harry was walking backward while talking to her, and only his quick reflexes and Quidditch-honed agility kept him from hitting other students who were walking properly. "No one will even know you're there except for us."
"Even a Disillusionment Charm isn't foolproof," she lectured. "It's also ridiculously easy for a skilled wizard to notice. And nearly anyone could dispel it."
His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Neither of those will be a problem."
They paused beside the doors to the library; it was empty since all the older students had filed off to Hogsmeade and the younger ones were doing whatever firsties and second-year students did— probably goofing around in their Common Rooms.
"Alright." She crossed her arms and leveled the full force of her amber gaze on him.
Harry rubbed his hands together. "Imagine: an invisibility cloak."
She snorted. "Oh, had one lying around, did you?"
Ron and Drao both laughed through their own surprise. Neither of them had heard Harry's mad plan either.
"As a matter of fact," he said smugly. "Right this way."
Harry guided them to a little nook in the library where no one would stumble upon them without warning. He glanced around one last time (for ghosts; some were downright gossips) and dug through his satchel. From which he pulled an ordinary, if lovely, cloak.
She pursed her lips, ready to tell him off, but the boy slipped it over his head and vanished. Hermione waved a hand in front of herself and heard a grunt. Harry was still there, but completely undetectable to the eye. There was no tell-tale shimmer when he moved, no shadow, nothing.
"Harry, I can't believe you didn't tell me you have an invisibility cloak!"
Dark, tousled hair appeared as he tugged it from his head. Seeing him disembodied was disturbing, but fascinating. "Well, this is the first time dad's ever lent it to me," he said sheepishly.
Draco inspected the area closely, reached out, rubbed a bit of the invisible material between his fingers. "I'm impressed, Potter. I don't even think we have one of these in our vaults."
"Bloody rich wankers," Ron mumbled. No one took notice.
"It's an heirloom; dad says it's been in his family for as long as anyone can remember." He finally removed the light cloak. "With this, no one will be able to see you, Hermione."
"What if someone summoned—"
"It can't be summoned." He grinned. "Go ahead and try if you don't believe me.
Hermione huffed and did just that, then tried again. On the third attempt, she had to admit he was correct. She pulled it from his hands and began to inspect the material for traces of warding magic. "The spell must have been woven into the fabric as it was made," she speculated. "But even then…"
"That's quite something," Draco admitted. He joined Hermione in study and even cast some diagnostic spells of his own.
"Draco, you could damage it," she admonished, but Harry shook his head.
"Nah. It's pretty impervious to things like that."
Hermione had never heard of such an invisibility cloak. "You said it's been in your family for generations? How many?"
He hummed thoughtfully. "I don't rightly know. It had already been around a while before my great-grandfather's time."
"I couldn't use this," she said. "It's a family heirloom."
Harry laid a hand on her shoulder. "You're just borrowing it, Hermione. To go out with me— with us, no less. It's fine."
"Oi, how come you never told me about it?" Ron asked.
"I'm telling you now, aren't I?"
"Yeah, but before. We could've used it for something," replied the redhead.
Harry laughed and shook his head. "Like I said, dad's never lent it to me. So, now I'm telling you all, and now we can have fun."
A smile tugged at her lips as all three of them looked to her. She bit her lip, but it just curled through it. "Oh, alright. Let's go."
Clapping and hooting broke out before she could shush them all with the reminder that they were still in the library. Hermione and the boys headed toward the Entrance Hall with the cloak tucked safely in her bag. "We'll have to find a place where no prying eyes can see me disappear." She speculated as they trailed onto snowy grounds. She was glad no snow had fallen in the last day; there were plenty of footsteps for her to follow lest anyone sees hers suddenly appear.
They veered toward the tree line and the boys kept watch and formed a little wall while she retrieved the cloak. "Alright," she said once she'd finished. "I'm ready." She laughed when they turned around and looked for a sign of her among the trees.
"I'm invisible, you idiots. You're not going to see me."
"We'll see your footprints," Draco countered.
She rolled her eyes, not that they could see. "That's why we are being careful, yes? Now, let's get going." Hermione chattered with the boys as long as they encountered no one else on the way. It was rather amusing, the way they'd turn to address her only to blink blankly in her direction as they remembered that, ah, yes, Hermione was invisible.
"The sweets shop first?" asked Ron. It was either that or the joke shop for him.
"What do you think, Hermione?" Harry muttered softly.
She pondered it, eyeing the two shops the redhead liked. "Well, it doesn't look too busy at Honeydukes," she said.
"Cool. Let's go." Ron led the way, careful to hold the door open an extra second for her to slip through.
He had been better lately, she noticed, more attentive and intentional. It was good to see the boy living up to his potential.
"D'ya reckon they have real cockroaches?" he mused as they ambled around the store.
"You could always check the ingredients," Hermione suggested.
She'd given up on figuring out wizarding sweets some years ago. Between the utter chaos that were Berty Bott's Every Flavour Beans and the existence of candy specifically marketed at vampires, she simply stopped caring about the peculiarities.
However, she wouldn't be eating cockroach clusters any time soon.
"Pumpkin fudge." Her head snapped toward the glass cabinetry that housed goods made in the store. Surely enough, between the pumpkin patsies and the walnut chocolate fudge was a garishly orange block with swirls of cinnamon and cream throughout.
Hermione almost forgot herself then; she walked toward the counter as though hypnotized by the sweets and didn't come to her senses until her foot knocked into the wood with a resounding thump.
Thinking quickly, Draco shoved into her with how close he'd marked her position.
"Did you need something?" asked the pretty older witch. She wore a ruffled outfit in pastels that reminded Hermione of saltwater taffy, and her hair was spelled into a swirling mass of pale, sparkly pink.
"Oh, er…"
As he stalled, Hermione leaned in and hissed, "Pumpkin fudge."
He tipped his head, pale brows twitching. "Munchkin pudge?"
"No, Pumpkin fudge!" she said the barest mite louder.
"I'm sorry?" asked the attendant.
Draco's cheeks burned furiously pink. "Pumpkin fudge— my apologies, I suffered a momentary aphasia."
"Practicing the Confundus earlier, were you?" the woman nodded sagely. "That one can muddle you up for hours."
"Exactly," he responded, watching the attractive woman cut off a portion for packaging. "A little more, please. Yes, perfect."
Once finished, she and Draco waited in the alleyway while Ron and Harry debated the merits of— she honestly had no idea, just that Ron had a limited sweets budget.
"I swear, if I hear one more pigheaded blood supremacist use that word…" her friend growled as he eyed a passing group of Slytherins.
"Has it been going around more often?" she asked softly, reluctantly. It was only ever used in her presence with intent to hurt; the students of Hogwarts knew better, so any who believed in such things kept their thoughts on the matter to themselves.
He nodded shortly. "Blaise tried to drag me along with Greg and Vince the other day. It lasted about two minutes before Goyle was spouting the same cockamamy shit my father believes."
"What did you do?"
"I hexed him." At her sound of indignation, he added, "It's Goyle, Hermione. No one is going to believe him. Besides, I used the Jelly-Legs Jinx. What self-respecting sixth-year doesn't know the countercurse is just ' unjellify '?"
Hermione stifled her laughter. "You used the Jelly-Legs Jinx? Against a bully?"
"You should've seen it. He fell face-first into a bookshelf. I reckon it's the first time he's touched a book since his mum tucked him at night." He grinned, though the effect was lessened by the fact that his pale eyes darted to try and find hers.
"I didn't know he could read," she commented.
"That's exactly what I said."
They trekked to the Hog's Head next, as the Three Broomsticks was too busy for ease of movement in Hermione's case. It was a bit dodgy, but the barkeep didn't much care what went on as long as people didn't cause a fuss. Draco grabbed them drinks and helped Hermione slip one under the cloak, and she and the boys enjoyed the view out the dusty windows.
"So wha's the difference 'tween this Voldiemort and the lawmakers at the Wizengamot?" It was a rather brash voice coming from a table halfway across the pub. An older, scruffy man spoke to one who was a bit more clean-cut. Hermione stretched toward them, listening intently to the pair rather than to the boys.
" Lord Voldemort is tired of letting muggles rule over the majority of the land. He doesn't intend to let them continue lording over us while we skulk in the shadows," was the response of the other.
"He doesn't want to keep the two separate?" The rougher man huffed. "Will we be mixing with muggles, then?"
"Not hardly. It will be they who exist on the periphery and the lower levels of the world."
A chill ran across Hermione's flesh. This sounded bad.
"But the ministry is against getting rid of the Statute for Secrecy," he continued. "They're cowards, happy to kowtow to the British royal muggles as long as we get our scraps. My lord plans to take over Wizarding Britain and then spread to the mainland."
"Innit that what Grindewald tried?"
"Grindewald was a fool and moved too much, too quickly. Moreover, he was happy to allow wizards of good families to breed with muggles as long as it made him more soldiers."
"He sounds like more of the same," the gruff man said after a moment.
"I assure you he is not."
The other man snorted. "'N' how 'm I s'pose to believe that?"
Hermione thought he must be getting progressively drunker considering how his words slurred more now than when she first started listening in.
"If you agree to meet with him, you'll see for yourself just how brilliant my lord is." He sounded annoyed, and she couldn't blame him, even if she didn't like the sound of his Lord Voldemort. "There is a meeting—"
"I dunno. Why've I never 'eard of 'him if 'e's so powerful?"
"Hermione?"
She jolted hard enough she accidentally kicked Harry in the shin. "Sorry, Harry. I zoned out."
"It's alright," he assured her, though he had a hand under the table to rub his leg. "We were just talking about meeting up after the Christmas feast. We can sneak down to the kitchens for some sweets and the twins said they'd smuggle us some firewhiskey."
"Firewhiskey!" She tutted. "Besides, the twins have graduated. How in Merlin's name would they smuggle anything in?"
Ron rolled his eyes. "They know Hogwarts nearly as well as Harry's dad. You know, Sirius likes them so much, he told them all about the statue of the one-eyed witch."
"That was completely irresponsible of him," she said. "And they shouldn't have taken advantage of that knowledge."
"Come off it, Hermione," the redhead replied. "It's not like we haven't benefited from the Marauders' knowledge."
She pursed her lips sourly, not that he could see it. As conversation turned to planning the holiday get together, Hermione turned to the table she'd been listening in on. The two conversationalists were nowhere to be found.