Chapter 17: Library Interlude

Hermione Granger looked at Harry. He was sitting just a few tables away in the library studying intently from several texts. Ever since the return of Voldemort, Hermione forced herself to think the name instead of one of the several euphemisms used for him, Harry had been hitting the books even more seriously than ever before. It was as if Harry suddenly got it, why studying was so deathly important. Finally.

Which made her feel guilty about what she had just done.

Hermione bit her lip as she perused the parchment in front of her. She knew she should not have been doing this. It was wrong to have broken into Professor Flitwick's office and wrong to have taken another student's work. Even worse, she absolutely knew that it was very, very wrong to be jealous of another student's success, especially when that successful student was her best friend.

It wasn't in Hermione's nature to do things she knew were against the rules, but this had been nagging her for more than an entire school year now, and well, if she had started to pick up some of Harry Potter's rule breaking habits, he only had himself to blame.

The brown haired witch's eyes scanned the words on the parchment in front of her, pouring over the text rapidly. Occasionally, she would give little slight approving nods, but a third of the way down, the nods abruptly ceased and a slight frown settled onto her face, marring the youthful beauty that was beginning to emerge. As she continued to read, the dissatisfied frown only deepened, and she began to look up to the mark at the top of the paper.

Outstanding? 122 points, five whole points above her own score?

Hermione rose to her feet, feeling increasingly agitated by this. Harry had certainly improved as a student since second year, that was certainly true, and Harry's essay for his Charms assignment showed he had really done a lot of studying for the assignment, and perhaps if Professor Flitwick was giving out points for effort and showing knowledge of the subject matter then perhaps an 'O' grade could be justified…but, five points above what she had written? No, just…no.

Harry was wrong.

The problem was that even though Harry clearly had a fundamental misunderstanding about Wildsmith's Third Alternative Principle of Inanimate Motivation, his Charms practical had been completely perfect. That was what was frustrating to her. It was not that Harry was starting to get grades as good as hers, at least not entirely that, it was that he was always outperforming her even when she knew that she knew the material better.

It was positively infuriating. The worst thing was that even professors were being fooled by Harry's improvement. The last time she pointed out that Harry was doing something wrong, Professor Flitwick had just told her that Harry was naturally using more advanced principles…that it was natural genius.

Utter bollocks, pardon her language, but while Harry was far from stupid, he was NOT a genius. He did not understand the complexities of magical theory. There were things you just could not do because they were theoretically impossible. Of course, the fact that he just went ahead and then did those aforementioned impossible things was the even more infuriating part.

Were it anyone else, Hermione would have been too mortified at having broken the rules to even think of confronting them about it. But this was Harry. He had broken more rules in the first year of his life—defeating an undefeatable Dark Lord as an infant! Honestly, that should have been enough of an indicator of what kind of regard the boy would have for authority and rules right there—than she had broken her entire life. And she knew he wouldn't turn her in or stay angry at her for more than a few days. He just didn't have that in him.

"Harry," she said in a half-whisper. She had walked over to her good friend where he sat in an isolated section of the library while those thoughts had gone through her head, "can I talk to you about something? First off, I hope you're not too angry at me, I did something I shouldn't have…"

Harry flashed her a winning smile. "Angry at you?" Harry replied, "I don't know what you've done yet, but I'm proud of you! Breaking the rules like a champion." A second later he added more seriously, "Really, Hermione, I don't know what it is yet, but I'm sure whatever you did was warranted. Don't worry, Hermione, you can tell me."

Hermione flushed. Yes, it was wrong to enjoy being praised for rule-breaking, but it was just hard not to enjoy the feeling of approbation from Harry Potter, even though she knew what he was really like, and that he was not at all how all those books portrayed him. Still, to have the bravest, yet still amazingly humble super-famous boy who was also her dearest and closest friend give her his approval just made Hermione feel warm and happy inside. So, don't judge, she told her inner critic.

A little tentatively, she pulled out his pilfered Charms assignment. "Harry, I think…I think either you are getting special treatment because you're the Boy-Who-Lived, or I'm being marked lower because I'm a Muggle-born. Since Flitwick hasn't shown any blood purist tendencies, I'm leaning towards the former."

It had been a while since Harry let her see his work before handing it in. Hermione had honestly expected him to show a little anger at her for going behind his back to see his essay, so she was surprised when, instead of anger, Harry's expression took on a briefly wary glint, with a hint of…resignation?

"It's not that I don't think you deserve high marks, Harry," she hurriedly added, "you're essay was really, good. You're really starting to understand things and put them together well, and I'm really very proud of you. But…you were wrong. I don't mind if you write a better paper than me," she was lying a little there, she knew, "but when you make a critical mistake like the one in this paper and the professor doesn't mark you down for it…"

Harry frowned. "Hermione, have you considered that maybe there was something in my explanation that you misunderstood? I admit, you are smarter than me and probably always will be, but do you think I can't possibly understand some things that you don't? Even sometimes?"

"Of course I think you can understand some things I don't, Harry!" Hermione protested. She didn't want Harry to think she was arrogant! "It's not like you're Ron or anything! Just, this time, that's not it. See, here where you said the abjurative properties of the identity binding allow for true proxy imprinting? That conflicts with…" Hermione flipped through an advanced NEWT level textbook and pointed to the place in Harry's essay where he went astray, methodically pointing out the logical inconsistency with what was known about controlling simulacra. "So, you see, your interpretation cannot possibly right," she concluded.

Hermione watched her friend carefully, looking for the tell-tale signs of resentment that so often went hand-in-hand with telling someone they were wrong. Harry had a slight frown on his face, but not the resentful, angry frown most people got before blowing up at her for merely explaining what it was they were being stupid about. Hermione could see that Harry was working through what she had just explained, that he was listening to her.

She was really so proud of how far Harry had come in his studies. It was a real shame he was getting special treatment because of being who he was, and all—in the end, that would only hold him back from true scholarship and achievement. The fact that he could actually follow her explanations now spoke volumes to how much progress he had made since he started taking his studies seriously.

Of course, it was rather odd that his increase in power and strength led to him studying more instead of the other way around, but then, he was Harry Potter.

"I see what you mean, Hermione," Harry said at last with a sigh. "You did write a better paper, and I can see where I went wrong on the theory. But, there's still a reason I can successfully cast the imperator charm on a non-Quarian simulacrum. It's…"

Hermione watched as the Boy-Who-Lived struggled to find the words to explain himself. He was trying, really, but he wasn't quite there yet. Hermione almost smiled fondly, but stopped herself before you looked condescending. She was getting better at that.

"Well, I can't really explain it, but I think if I showed you, you could figure it out. Then maybe, you could explain it to me so I'll get it right next time?" Harry asked.

She readily agreed. She didn't know exactly what the trick was, maybe something to do with tertiary bindings, but she could at least watch Harry's form. It felt good that Harry still turned to her for help in some things.

Harry drew his wand and pointed it towards her. "Okay, now watch the tip of the wand closely."

Hermione nodded, her eyes narrowing to try and see it more clearly.

"Obliviate."

.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Saint Potter," a too familiar, utterly unwelcome voice cut in from behind a bookshelf just as Harry sheathed his wand and Hermione slumped down in her chair. "Or, maybe not so saintly," Draco Malfoy said with a smirk. "Finally saw the light and decided to ditch the Mudblood? I honestly didn't think you had that in you, Potter."

Harry turned around, giving Draco a hard glare. It had been a while since the spoiled brat of a boy had dared to raise his head high enough to cause any trouble. Now, it seemed, the boy thought he had an opportunity to be a nuisance once more.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked sharply.

"No need to get too upset, Potter. I'm willing to keep what I just saw to myself. All I want from you in return is—"

"Stuff it, Malfoy," Harry said with mild annoyance. "You won't get anything from me. Now, why don't you run along back to Madame Pomfrey to make sure you don't have another house elf Malfoy baby."

Draco's face went from pale to white with rage. "THAT NEVER HAPPENED!" he yelled. Only the fact that Madame Pince was in the Restricted Section berating a student who had just opened a loudly shrieking book allowed his outburst to go unnoticed.

"When my father hears about this, Potter, you'll end up in Azkaban. I'm going to—" Draco cut off his tirade with a tiny shriek of fear as he saw Harry reach into his robe and begin pulling something out. Draco fumbled for his wand, but was far too slow.

Harry snorted. Instead of a wand, Harry produced an engraved ivory card.

"You won't tell anyone about this, Draco," Harry said softly, "because if you do, then you'll be the one in trouble."

Draco fumed, his wand now out and pointed at a seemingly unconcerned Harry Potter. "You can't really believe you can just memory charm someone and get away with it, do you Potter? Not even you can think your fame would protect you."

"Not my fame, Draco," Harry said, extending the card. "This." Harry noticed how Draco still held his wand towards him. "Oh, give off, Malfoy. If I had wanted to hex you, I'd have already done so by now."

Draco kept his wand trained on Harry, but took the card. It wasn't like the fact that Harry Potter had destroyed a dementor and beaten a half dozen senior Death Eaters hadn't been in the Daily Prophet in practically every edition. He wasn't about to try his luck, but he wasn't going to give up his advantage, either. Draco wasn't that stupid.

"What is this rubbish?" Draco spat when he looked at the card. "Harry James Potter, Level 1 Obliviator's License?"

"That's right, Draco. And it's an offense to intentionally reveal, either directly or indirectly, the act of a duly authorized obliviation to the subject of such obliviation without due cause," Harry quoted. "So, even if your father still had any real influence after his second attempt to pretend he was imperiused, the only one who would get hurt by this would be you."

Draco scowled for a second, then he snorted. "Nice try, Potter. You almost had me there. Even if that license is real, which is highly doubtful, there's no way that your way of ending the little dispute with Granger would be authorized by the Ministry. I'm telling everyone, and then we'll see what everyone thinks of the 'great Harry Potter.'"

Harry shrugged his shoulders unconcernedly. "I warned you. Do that and you'll be the one getting a fine. But, I'm not worried. I know you won't even tell a single person, and I'll tell you why."

"Oh, why is that?" Draco asked with a confident sneer.

"Look at the fine print on the back of the card," Harry answered.

Draco did.

There was a flash of white light from the card and Draco's eyes went unfocused.

A few seconds later, Draco shook his head and looked around the empty section of the library he was standing in and wondered what in Merlin's name he was doing standing in the library, and when had it gotten to be this late in the afternoon!

.

Ron Weasley was a bit worried about his best mate. Ever since the return of You-Know-Who, Harry hadn't been himself. He was studying.

Well, it wasn't like Harry Potter didn't study before. To be honest, the past year or so Harry had been doing a lot more reading. But this...this was Hermione-level obsession with the library. It was a weekend, there were no end of term tests because of the Tri-Wizard tournament earlier in the year, and he and his other bookwork friend were the only ones in the library.

"Hey, Harry," Ron said casually as he approached his friend. "Fancy a game of Exploding Snap?"

"Sorry Ron," Harry said as he cross-checked three books at once, "kind of busy with this now. Maybe later?"

Ron frowned. "Look, Harry, all this studying is sort of getting out of hand. It's like...you don't have fun anymore! I mean, it's not like you're Hermione, but you gotta take a break from the library."

Harry sighed. "I know, Ron, but..."

Just then, Hermione herself sidled up to the table, a roll of parchment in her hands.

"I looked your essay over liked you asked, Harry," the bushy brown haired girl said, a happy smile on her face. "It's really quite good. I can tell you've done a lot of research into this. I think you'll get an 'O' on the assignment."

"See," Ron said, "even Hermione thinks you're doing good enough."

"That's 'well' enough, Ron," Hermione said, getting that Know-It-All look on her face that he really couldn't stand, "and you might want to take a page from Harry's book and do some studying yourself. Harry here has written a very well-reasoned explanation of modifications to summoning charms."

"But?" Harry asked, suddenly.

Ron was confused. Hadn't Hermione just said she thought it would get an 'O'? "But, what?"

"Hermione found something wrong in my essay," Harry said. "What did I get wrong?" he asked.

"Well," Hermione began hesitantly, "you were basically right about the arithmantic influence of time of birth on the maximal scope, but you missed the reference to Chomisky's Treatise."

Harry nodded. "Right, I should have checked there before writing that part. Thanks Hermione."

And then Harry casually pulled out his wand and obliviated Hermione as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. He started making some notes on the parchment in front of him while Hermione sat staring glossy-eyed into nothing.

"Did—did you just memory charm Hermione?" Ron asked with a slight stammer.

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. I've gotten pretty good at it now. Don't worry, she'll be fine. Dumbledore taught me before I started using it."

Ron just stood their, gaping like a fish. "But...but..."

Now Harry turned towards him a very serious look on his face. "Look, Ron, it's for her own good. I know something, and it's really best that Hermione not ever figure out what that is. So, she has to believe I'm getting stronger because I'm studying more. It's really important that Hermione believe in me."

"Uh, okay." Ron paused for a second. "You're not going to obliviate me, are you? I believe in you, you know."

"I know you do, Ron," Harry said with a weak smile. "And, I don't think I'll have to do that with you." After a minute, Harry's face fell. "You know, Ron, I tried telling Hermione the truth. I told her everything, things I'm not ever going to tell you. And do you know what happened?"

"What?" Ron asked.

"She went mental. Not like she normally is, regular girl-mental, but blow-up-a-library-with-a-reductor-curse nuts. And then, after that, she had a total breakdown. She tried to learn a spell, but just couldn't. It was a mercy to take the memory from her."

Something that would make Hermione blow up part of a library. That was hard for Ron to wrap his mind around. "Okay, Harry, I've got your back, no matter what. Whatever you need, mate, I'm here for you."

Now Harry's smile looked relieved, and genuine. "And you don't mind if I don't tell you the reason why I need you to do something?"

Ron shrugged. "Not like I'd probably even understand it if you did. You've gotten almost as bad as Hermione when you talk about magic now, Harry, did you know that?"

Harry grinned. "Well, then, welcome to the Rotfang Conspiracy," he said. "Now, let's go play a game of Exploding Snap until Hermione wakes up!"

Author's Note: I lied about it not being very long between. Sorry.