Hermione Granger and the Year Hidden from Hogwarts
Harry Potter Fanfiction
Chapter 17
A/N: Hope you enjoyed that little taste of some beloved Hogwarts staff, not to mention the reference to the Weasley twins. Those two are my favorite. Anyway, we're getting close to a wrap on Hermione's time away from Hogwarts.
I'm planning to do a epic-length, detailed work, so I hope you're ready for the long haul!
For my strong commenters on AO3, I try to reply to all of them, but for some reason, the comments aren't sorted by time posted as I found out today. So, I might miss some here and there if I don't scroll through. I'll try to get to you though if I missed one.
As a warning, I don't proofread or have anyone proofread these chapters. Since I do this just for fun, as soon as I finish, I'm uploading them, so hopefully you can overlook any grammatical errors!
With all that, enjoy!
April 15th, 1992
Balls from all directions shot her way, shocking her for a moment. Trainer Hart said there'd be three "shooters" like normal. Luckily, muscle and mind memory took over. For the first time ever, she instantly summoned the light straw colored energy and froze no less than ten dodgeballs before they impacted her body.
A bead of sweat rolled down her temple from the strain of holding the objects, frozen aloft in the air. She switched to her metavision, hearing someone gasp as they broke protocol and gave away their position. They must've been one of the new recruits roped into upping the complexity of her training.
Lord only knew that the rest of the "helpers" had seen her eyes glowing magnesium white countless occasions before.
In this vision, she was able to see the locations of the "attackers," no matter how well they'd hidden. They all glowed with energy, even if they were missing that extra core of power that Hermione and the supernatural creatures possessed.
She brought her second hand up, using it to help her brain split into some many different commands as, in one go, she sent the balls hurtling back in the direction of their thrower.
Some of the trainers had been hiding behind walls, so the only sound was a smacking thud. The unfortunate ones that'd not been taking cover took the full brunt of the impact, being forced off their feet, falling to the ground some distance behind themselves.
Before the ones still standing could retaliate, Hermione got her energy spooled up in her hands, glowing blue—sapphire blue—she corrected, recalling the closest color she could without referencing her charts—much darker than her normal bluebell.
She'd been intending to catch and release any incoming projectiles with another repeat, but maybe she was too drained to do more, and this new color was the furthest she could deviate from her natural state.
The blue swirled in a half circle around her hands, and since none of the masses of the hostiles had moved just yet, she risked a glance down. She tried to manipulate the energy into another shape, but the effort made her gasp, as if this particular color preferred circular shapes. If she hadn't drained herself on her singular, flashy, albeit effective, move, she might not have noticed, bending the energy to her will, but as it was, she decided to go with it, use it at its natural state.
One of the figures moved, and she lifted her hands up, glowing with their transparent sapphire hue. She braced for impact, but the… the shields absorbed most of it, sending the ball ricocheting around the room.
Another trainer threw, and she blocked that as well.
But when a third went to repeat, the spherical shields flickered and fizzled out, forcing her into a side roll to dodge.
She ducked and twisted the best that she could, all the while trying to call up something other than her natural bluebell flames which were essentially useless in this battle since she couldn't throw them.
…she couldn't throw them, could she?
Her distraction sent her stumbling back as a ball finally met its target, hard enough to steal her breath.
She must've hurt someone's feelings with that first maneuver because she landed on her back, the impact stealing her breath as she stared up at the harsh incandescent lights on the high ceiling.
The whistle blew, signaling the end of the exercise as Trainer Hart left his observation box and held a hand out to help her to her feet.
Hermione accepted, finally blinking out of her metavision so that she could assess the look on her instructor's face. Not that it did much good since he'd smoothed all the emotion from his blank expression.
"Learn a new spell, did you, Granger?"
Hermione accepted the water he held out to her. It must be the end of the entire session if he was allowing her to quench her thirst. "Yeah, it acted like some sort of shield."
"Something to work on for next week then," he added, marking it down on his clipboard. "Now, we've held longer stretching poses than this exercise. What happened?"
Hermione used the back of her wrist to swipe some of the moisture from her forehead. "That first move. I was surprised when there were a lot more people participating than you said."
Trainer Hart gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Life's unpredictable. Carry on."
Hermione licked her lips. "Well, I… I guess my training took over because I've never caught one and sent them back with so much force, let alone a dozen. Anyway, in my panic, I overdid it and expended all my energy because after that, I couldn't pull up much of anything except for those shields, and then even those blinked out."
Trainer Hart nodded, jotting down notes. "From what I observed, I'd have to agree. So, what we're going to do is see if we can keep building up your stamina, increase whatever it is you call those energy reserves—"
"My core, sir."
"Right, we'll try to build up the stamina for that—"
"But how?" she cried before glancing down at her feet. "Sorry, sir."
"It's okay. And to answer your question, we're going to treat it like any other muscle."
"You think that'll work?"
He scratched his brow with the pencil. "It certainly can't hurt to try. There are brain exercises to improve memory. So, your task for this week is to keep a pencil or something small, floating beside you in your classes. That'll also be good for helping you widen your circle of awareness by having to split your attention. Hopefully your powers will come second nature to you in the heat of the moment. We'll talk more about tactics tomorrow, going over more efficient moves that won't drain you of your energy. You're small, and your powers are limited until we can build them up. You'll need to use that big brain of yours to think creatively in a fight."
She nodded at the onslaught of information. Trainer Hart was the best in his field, and he'd shown her time and again that he rolled with her brand of crazy, not letting any situation trip him up.
Hermione watched the guys on the outskirts of the room, talking quietly amongst themselves. Some of them must've gone into the hall because she only saw about seven. "Why did you tell me there would be three attackers."
Trainer Hart folded his arms across his chest, tucking the clipboard under his arm—his "at ease" stance. "Ms. Walker wants you trained for field experience. You're going to be going off on missions, and you won't have a controlled environment with a nice, neat list of the number of hostiles."
"Sure, but going from three to twelve?" Hermione countered.
Trainer Hart squinted at her. "That's the second time you mentioned twelve. Did you guess that number or see them all? Because I have to tell you, this was a training exercise for my men just as much as you, and if they were sloppy enough to give away—"
"No, I saw them."
Trainer Hart blinked as he processed that. "Wait, you're telling me that even through the walls—"
"Yes, I can see their energy."
He jotted down on his clip board. "Good to know. Now I won't make them run so many laps."
"But they won, sir. Why would they have to run laps?"
"It's good for them. Besides, that was the wager I set with them beforehand in the hall. If over half of them got knocked out by one girl half their size, they'd lose. Of course, I didn't tell them about what said girl was capable of."
Hermione tilted her head. "Teaching them that looks can be deceiving?"
"Hell no!" He laughed as he walked off. "I just wanted to see those bloody cocky looks wiped from their faces when they got wiped out by a girl."
Hermione was shocked at first by his language, but her own smile danced around her lips. His amusement was infectious, especially when he turned the strict instructor routine back on when he got close enough to the men, barking out a string of orders at them that had them dancing, marionettes at the end of his invisible strings.
"Get running you lazy slugs! Did I say it was time to chit chat?"
April 18th, 1992
One of the benefits of no longer living at home was that if MI5 wanted her to take a weekend trip out of the country, she didn't have to beg their permission.
She also didn't have much choice in the matter, either.
She stared at the scenery flying by outside the window, honey-stone villages in the distance, thatch roofing, and well-preserved history… Gloucestershire boasted some beautiful countryside. "But I thought Ms. Walker said that we weren't focusing on the hauntings or ghosts anymore."
Dr. Hampton looked back at her from the front seat since Charles was driving. "She did, but this is your first time working with Subj—Erl," he corrected himself when he caught her glare, "in the field, and we wanted to start you with something simple."
Hermione glanced back at the covered cage they'd transported Erl in. "I still don't see why he had to be locked up. We've already established that he won't hurt me if given the chance."
"That might be true, but you'll have to forgive us if we didn't want a child-eating creature running free at our backs," Charles quipped.
Dr. Hampton, sensing an impending argument, stepped in as the voice of reason. "It's just for a little longer. He didn't react well to the transport from Russia to here, so we wanted to make sure the hysteria he displayed wouldn't weaken the bonds you share."
Share was such a strong word.
Dr. Hampton continued. "If he does well on this job, behaves how we imagine, and functions as a cohesive unit with you, then I see no reason why he wouldn't be able to forgo the cage on our return trip."
Hermione nodded, appeased, though Charles shot Dr. Hampton a disgruntled look.
"Ah, and speaking of the job, here we are. I'm going to go converse with the owners briefly to ensure they got our payment. Don't get out. They're not allowed to know about the supernatural. Hence the hefty compensation—"
"Bribe," Charles chimed in, but Dr. Hampton pretended not to hear.
"—that we're bestowing on them to allow us free reign on their property for the next twelve hours."
Hands were shaken, and the elderly couple looked quite agreeable.
"So," Charles began, also watching the interaction through the windscreen. "Are you nervous about tonight?"
Hermione frowned at the side of his face. "No. Why should I be?"
"Well, for one, the last time we were in the field, you were nearly abducted by a creature and consumed." Charles turned to face her. "And because that wasn't enough, we brought said creature along as your backup."
"Erl won't hurt me," Hermione denied easily.
He can't went unsaid.
"Nice evasion there."
"Hush," she shot back, wiping her hands on her jumper. She was nervous, but not for the reasons he'd assumed.
Hermione had been given a list of haunted places in England and been told to pick one that interested her.
The Ancient Ran Inn in Wotton-under-Edge was renowned for being a hotspot of paranormal activity, but what'd really drew Hermione here was the rumor of the inn's most famous ghost, a supposed witch that'd once taken refuse here in the 1500s when witch hunts were prevalent in the area. Eventually she'd been caught and killed, but many claimed that she'd returned to haunt the area she once hid.
If there was any truth to the rumors, then Hermione might finally get some answers to the burning questions that mysterious letter from Hogwarts had burned into her brain.
Outside the van, the owners of the place got in their car and drove off, leaving Dr. Hampton to make his way back to them with a few brochures.
"Did you know that this place is believed to have been built atop two major Ley Lines. They say the line draw energy directly from Stonehenge?"
"Hmm," Charles replied, noncommittal. "Are we quite sure that the ghosts are the most dangerous thing here? That roof looks like it's a butterfly's weight away from collapsing in."
Indeed, the ramshackle façade certainly gave the building a creepy feeling, from the cracked plaster to the Elizabethan wood framing on the commons area.
"Chin up, Charles. We'll be fine. Let's go ahead and have a look around to figure out where we can set up some of our equipment for readings before our dear Hermione starts drawing every ghost in the area with her magnetic presence."
From any other person, that might've sounded like flattery, but coming from Dr. Hampton, he meant those words at face value.
"Fine, but Subject 202 can stay in the car while we investigate."
"Fair enough. Let's go," Dr. Hampton giggled, his steps rather spry for a man getting on in his years.
As she approached the door, she felt something observing them. Had the paranormal already clocked her existence?
She was afraid to switch to her metavision to find out.
Instead, she stuck close to Charles' heels, dogging his steps as she followed him inside the dimly lit inn.
Charles didn't look impressed. "Is that an oil lamp by the till? Please tell me this place has electricity."
"Of course it does, m'boy." Dr. Hampton flipped the light switch he'd found by the entrance. Nothing happened. "Oh, well, alright then. A fuse probably blew. Spread out and look around for a breaker board."
Hermione was determined to stay put, framed in the dim light from the picture window, but Charles arched a brow at her folded-arm stance and said, "Scared?"
"Of course not."
"Then pull your weight, kiddo. Ghosts don't normally come out on these trips until night anyway, right?"
Hermione wanted to argue that those places weren't rumored to be supercharged by ley lines from Stonehenge, but even in her head it sounded like an excuse to hide her fear.
She huffed, annoyed that she'd allowed his goading to get to her, but she marched off for the darkened hall across the room, figuring it was as good of a place as any since Dr. Hampton moved for the kitchens and Charles had gone the opposite direction.
The floor creaked beneath her foot, not helping the situation any, and she had to remind herself that she wasn't scared of some little ghosts. She'd been dealing with ghosts her entire life.
Still, they'd never been to a place as famously haunted as this one before. What if there were several ghosts? What if they ambushed and overwhelmed her?
She'd mostly dealt with ghosts one on one, three maximum if there was a family involved.
Hermione paused in the opening of the hallway, glancing in either direction when she realized the inn was much larger than the outside had hinted at. It must've been added to throughout its history.
"Left or right?" she asked herself, but the decision was taken from her hands when she spied movement at the far end of the hall.
She squinted before blinking rapidly, not believing her eyes.
A book, complete with tiny, yarn-thin arms and legs was tap dancing.