Chapter Ten
Hermione spent the entirety of her weekend tucked away amongst the endless stacks of library books, her quill scratching furiously against parchment as she devoured them with unrelenting focus. The soft glow of candlelight illuminated her workspace, casting shadows across the towering piles of books she had carefully selected.
Her efforts were divided between three pressing matters: finalizing the topics for her class research projects with deadlines fast approaching, translating the runes they had discovered in the archives, and uncovering as much as she could about the mysterious three-headed dog guarding the forbidden third-floor corridor.
Despite the workload she’d set for herself, Hermione felt a small sense of accomplishment. By the start of the weekend, she had already narrowed down her Charms and Transfiguration research topics. For Charms, she had decided on "Utility Charms in Everyday Wizarding Life: Practical Applications Beyond the Classroom," a topic that excited her as it combined theoretical knowledge with real-world impact. For Transfiguration, her topic was "Safety in Transfiguration: Case Studies of Accidents and How They Influenced Transfiguration," exploring how past mistakes shaped the discipline’s evolution.
With determination, she turned her attention to the remaining subjects. Her notes sprawled across the table in neat, organized stacks, each labelled with a specific class. By the end of the weekend, her efforts bore fruit, and she finally decided on topics for the rest of her classes:
- Potions:"Historical Origins of Healing Potions: A Study of Early Remedies and Their Evolution"
- History of Magic:"The Goblin Rebellions: A Study of Wizarding Prejudice and Social Justice"
- Herbology:"The Ethical Harvesting of Magical Plants: A Study on Sustainability and Conservation"
- Defence Against the Dark Arts:"The Ethics of Using Dark Magic to Fight Dark Forces"
Marking these off her mental to-do list felt like lifting a weight off her shoulders. With her research topics finalised, Hermione could focus on the other two challenges without the constant guilt of unfinished academic work hanging over her head.
Attention shifted to runes, she felt a rekindling of excitement as she ventured into the Runes Section of the library. The section was meticulously categorised, each shelf dedicated to a specific runic alphabet. There were more standard runes, including what was mostly studied at Hogwarts—Elder Futhark, Younger Futhark, and Anglo-Saxon Futhorc—alongside more obscure ones like Dalecarlian Runes, Cryptic Runes and Galdrastafir. But the scope of the collection wasn’t even close to ending there. It moved to sigils and symbolic alphabets, including hypothetical, hardly studied or rumoured alphabets.
Hermione sighed at the sheer number of possibilities before her, realising that it would take months, if not years, to sift through each to identify which ones she needed. However, Hermione wasn’t easily deterred and thankfully, she discovered on its own small shelf at the end of the section a collection of dictionaries and guides that compiled the meanings and origins of various runes and sigils. She took a few, hoping that she could cross-reference them with the script she’d taken from the archives, and then with that guidance, look further into specific alphabets if needed.
Arms full of books, Hermione moved to the Magical Creatures Section. This section was somehow even larger than the runes section and Hermione spent hours perusing for anything of use. Hours passed with an aching neck from bending over so many volumes, but it wasn’t until Sunday afternoon that her perseverance paid off. Tucked away on a low shelf, she discovered a hefty, weathered, leather-bound tome titled “Myths and Monsters: The Truth Behind Muggle Legends" by Magda Faolán and Eudora Patime, two renowned magizoologists.
The faded cover bore intricately imprinted images of magical creatures—dragons curled protectively around their eggs, phoenixes mid-flight, unicorns grazing peacefully—and, in the corner, a three-headed dog roaring ferociously. Hermione’s heart leapt with a spark of satisfaction.
She carried the book carefully back to her table which had begun hers over the weekend and was stacked with completed homework and books that she’d used at some stage or another. She moved a stack to the side and laid out Myths and Monsters, flipping through pages, skimming detailed illustrations and dense descriptions until she found what she was looking for:
TRIOCANIS PHYLAX: The Three-Headed Guardian
Muggle Origin and Mythology
The creature known to Muggles as Cerberus, the legendary guardian of the Underworld, has its roots in Greek mythology. Spawned from Typhon, the primordial storm monster, and Echidna, the serpent-bodied progenitor of monsters, Cerberus embodies the boundary between life and death. Myths describe this hound as a massive, three-headed beast with additional monstrous traits such as a serpent’s tail or a mane of writhing snakes. Charged with preventing the escape of the dead and denying entry to the living, Cerberus symbolized divine vigilance and retribution.
Similar myths arise in other cultures, such as Garmr, the single-headed hound of Norse Helheim, and the multi-headed underworld guardians in Hindu lore associated with Yama. These narratives illustrate a recurring motif of vigilance and protection across human civilizations, often representing the sanctity of life’s ultimate thresholds.
In the wizarding world, however, these tales merely hint at the true nature of Triocanis Phylax—a species bound to the oldest and most powerful magics. Known colloquially as the Triocanis, this creature transcends myth to play an active role as a protector of sacred vaults, magical treasures, and forbidden knowledge. Its abilities, steeped in ancient enchantments, have made it a key figure in magical history, both revered and exploited.
The Magical Reality
According to wizarding lore, the first Triocanis was created accidentally on the Greek island of Ithaca. An ambitious mage known for experimental charms and transfigurations inadvertently brought the creature into existence when a misfired spell collided with a cauldron containing unknown magical substances. The resulting explosion birthed a creature imbued with unbreakable enchantments, rendering it indestructible and imbued with a profound connection to ancient magics. Attempts to reverse the creation failed, and the Triocanis persisted as a unique magical anomaly.
Over time, the Triocanis were sought by wizards for various purposes. Scholars studied it for its magical properties, poachers captured it for profit, and wealthy families bred the creatures to guard their estates and treasures. In many magical traditions, the Triocanis came to symbolize the balance of body, mind, and soul, a concept reflected in its three heads.
Habitat and Survival Needs
Triocanis are highly adaptable creatures, but their ideal habitat reflects the environment of their origin—the rugged wilderness of Greece. The Triocanis thrives in regions with the following characteristics:
Dense Forests or Mountainous Terrains: These provide the seclusion and cover necessary for such a highly sought-after creature. They often construct dens in caves or heavily wooded areas, using their sharp claws to dig elaborate underground networks and cave-like systems.
Magic-Saturated Environments: Triocanis are drawn to areas rich in ambient magical energy. Such locations enhance their regenerative abilities and allow them to remain connected to the ancient magic that sustains them.
Access to Prey: Triocanis are carnivorous, primarily hunting magical beasts such as Erklings, Quintapeds, and Chizpurfles. In captivity, they can be fed a diet of raw meat, augmented by magical supplements to maintain their vitality.
In the wild, Triocanis are highly territorial, fiercely protecting their domain from intruders. Despite their aggression, they maintain a delicate balance within their ecosystems, preventing the overpopulation of smaller magical creatures.
Diet and Behavior
Triocanis are obligate carnivores with an affinity for magical prey. In addition to the magical creatures mentioned above, they are known to hunt common wildlife like deer, wild boar, and, occasionally, livestock. Their hunting strategy is coordinated and relies on the synchronized efforts of their three heads, each capable of independent thought. Foraging Habits: They occasionally consume magical herbs like Gurdyroot, which enhances their regenerative abilities.
In captivity, they require a high-calorie diet, supplemented with enchanted minerals to support their regeneration and magical resistance.
Behaviorally, the Triocanis is fiercely intelligent, and capable of understanding commands in multiple languages, provided they are bonded to a guardian. They are most active at dawn and dusk, and their heightened aggression during these hours reflects their primal instincts as both hunters and protectors.
The Hunting Era: A Grim Chapter
During the late 14th century, Triocanis became the target of a brutal hunting trend among European wizards. Known as the "Triocanis Trials," wealthy pure-blood families orchestrated hunts in which the creatures were pursued and slain for sport. Their hides were fashioned into impenetrable cloaks, their venom sold on the black market, and their teeth used as cores in experimental wands.
This era devastated the population, driving the species to near extinction. Despite efforts by magizoologists like Greta Fensworth to ban the practice, enforcement lagged until the 16th century, when the first international laws on magical creature preservation were established.
Known Abilities of the Triocanis
Triocanis Venom: Highly toxic and a key ingredient in both potions and poisons. The venom paralyzes victims, causing symptoms that include localized swelling, fever, and eventual organ failure.
Impenetrable Skin: Resistant to nearly all curses and physical attacks, making it valuable in magical textiles (an illegal practice today).
Loyalty: Once bonded, the Triocanis will defend its guardian with unmatched ferocity, capable of tracking them across continents.
Feral Frenzy: In this heightened state, their physical power doubles, and their speed and stamina make them formidable opponents.
Regeneration: Capable of healing mortal wounds in a matter of hours, the Triocanis can even regrow severed heads—a phenomenon documented only in extreme cases.
Tail: A long, prehensile tail with sharp ridges is used for balance and as a secondary weapon.
Sight: Triocanis have exceptional vision, which allows them to see in the dark and track prey via infrared.
Smell: Its olfactory senses are powerful enough to track magical traces over vast distances, whether to locate their bonded guardian or hunt prey.
Hearing: Triocanis are sensitive to ultrasonic frequencies and hear at a much higher rate than humans, allowing them to protect themselves in unsure environments.
Breeding and Lifecycle
The Triocanis follows a unique lifecycle distinct from most magical and mundane creatures.
Mating Season: Mating occurs during the spring solstice when ambient magical energies are at their peak. Male Triocanis will compete for the attention of females through displays of strength and cunning, including coordinated hunting demonstrations. Females select mates based on these displays and their ability to protect potential offspring.
Gestation and Birth: The gestation period lasts approximately six months. During this time, the female constructs a secure den, often in secluded caves or beneath magically charged soil. Litters typically consist of one to three pups, though twins are most common. Triocanis pups are born blind and toothless, with their heads displaying limited coordination in infancy.
Growth and Development:
Infancy (0–6 months): Pups rely on their mother for nourishment and protection. Each head develops its own personality, which plays a critical role in the creature's social interactions and hunting strategies as it matures.
Juvenile Stage (6 months–5 years): Juvenile Triocanis begin hunting small prey under the supervision of their mother and the dominant male. During this time, they exhibit their first signs of magical resistance and venom production.
Maturity (5–7 years): By the age of five, Triocanis are fully independent. However, they do not reach their peak size and strength until their seventh year.
Elder Phase (100—120 years): In their later years, Triocanis retreat to isolated areas, where they serve as guardians of magical sites. This stage is considered sacred, and their passing is often marked by a surge of ambient magical energy in their habitat.
Lifespan: Triocanis are long-lived creatures, with lifespans ranging from 80 to 120 years in the wild. Captive specimens have been known to live longer, though they require careful management to prevent stress-related decline.
Cultural Significance
The Triocanis hold a prominent place in wizarding culture and folklore:
Mythical Origins: Many magical texts equate the Triocanis with Cerberus, suggesting they are the same. Ancient Greek wizards regarded the creature as the guardian of arcane wisdom, with some magical schools of thought believing the Triocanis could bridge the realms of the living and the dead.
Symbolism:
In ancient magical circles, the Triocanis symbolized vigilance, loyalty, and the triad of body, mind, and soul.
Pure-blood families often used depictions of Triocanis in heraldry to signify strength and resilience. Wizarding families also inscribe their likeness onto vaults and homes for protection.
Triocanis is often invoked in protective charms and wards.
Ritual Use: Historically, the heads of slain Triocanis were believed to enhance divination practices or grant prophetic dreams, though this belief is now largely discredited.
Art and Literature: The Triocanis has been immortalized in countless magical paintings, sculptures, and epics. The 15th-century wizard poet Asterion Phos wrote an entire sonnet cycle about a Triocanis named Astral.
Prey vs. Predators
Prey:
Magical creatures: Quintapeds, Erklings, Chizpurfles, and occasionally Nifflers if population pressures force them to seek smaller prey.
Mundane wildlife: Deer, wild boars, and large rodents.
Rare instances: They have been documented hunting serpentine magical creatures like Runespoor.
Predators:
In the wild, the Triocanis faces very few natural predators due to its size, intelligence, and magical resistance. However, they are threatened by:
Wizards and Poachers: Historically, wizards hunted them for their valuable venom, hides, and teeth.
Basilisk Incursions: In areas where Basilisks have been bred illegally, Triocanis pups are vulnerable to attack.
Large Dragons: Some dragons, particularly the Hungarian Horntail, may see the Triocanis as a rival for territory or prey.
Leading Research and Discoveries
Venom Applications: Research conducted at the Mount Parnassus Reserve has uncovered groundbreaking uses for Triocanis venom in potioneering, including antidotes for rare magical diseases or injuries resulting in paralysis.
Magical Resistance: Studies reveal that the Triocanis’ resistance stems from an enchanted layer beneath their dermis, which neutralizes most offensive spells.
Triocanis Bonding: Behavioral research confirms that a bonded Triocanis can synchronize its mental processes with its guardian, enhancing the effectiveness of protective wards and shields.
Physiological Insights: Their three heads function semi-independently, each with distinct neurological patterns and emotional tendencies. This division enhances their tactical abilities in hunting and defence.
Endangered Status and Conservation
The International Confederation of Wizards’ Species Survival Commission added the Triocanis to its Endangered Species List in 1612 after centuries of poaching decimated their population. Once estimated to number in the tens of thousands, their population fell to fewer than 200 individuals by the 17th century.
Current Status: Thanks to global conservation efforts, the population has stabilized at approximately 1,000 individuals, with most residing within reserves such as Mount Parnassus, the largest Triocanis reserve in the world. However, their status remains Critically Endangered.
Other Species on the List: As of 2024, the Species Survival Commission monitors 87 magical creatures on the Endangered Species List, including Demiguise, Graphorns, Snidgets and Nundus.
The Mount Parnassus Reserve
Located in central Greece, the Mount Parnassus Reserve is one of the largest magical creature conservation projects in the wizarding world. Nestled in the ancient mountain ranges near Delphi, this protected area spans over 1,000 square kilometres and is warded against Muggle intrusion through powerful Concealment Charms and Muggle-Repelling Spells.
The reserve was established in 1785 by renowned magizoologist Callidora Vlastos, who advocated for the preservation of the Triocanis after its population was decimated by poaching. Today, the reserve is managed by the International Confederation of Wizards' Species Survival Commission in partnership with the Greek Ministry of Magic and other partnered Ministries.
The reserve provides the following:
Safe Breeding Programs: Licensed magizoologists work to boost population numbers by facilitating natural pairings in controlled environments.
Research Facilities: Studies focus on the properties of Triocanis venom, regeneration, and magical resistance.
Rehabilitation Centers: Injured or orphaned Triocanis are nursed back to health and, when possible, reintroduced to the wild.
Anti-Venom Production: Carefully harvested venom is used to create antidotes for various magical toxins.
Habitat Management
Managing Triocanis habitats requires a delicate balance of conservation and containment:
Greek Reserve: The largest magical reserve for Triocanis is the Mount Parnassus Reserve in Greece. This protected area spans enchanted forests, rocky caves, and magical meadows to replicate their natural environment.
Sanctuary Design: Reserves are warded with anti-poaching charms and staffed by magizoologists who monitor population health, document behaviour, and conduct magical enrichment activities.
Magical Enrichment: Conservationists provide charmed prey, obstacle courses, and ancient melodies to stimulate the creatures’ minds and maintain their magical strength.
Behavioural Studies
Triocanis behaviour reflects its deep magical intelligence and social complexity:
Communication: The three heads communicate using a mix of vocalizations, subtle head movements, and shared magical energy. Each head often has a distinct personality and role within the creature's psyche.
Territoriality: Triocanis are fiercely protective of their domains, marking boundaries with claw marks that repel intruders.
Problem-Solving: Studies have shown that Triocanis can solve complex puzzles and distinguish friend from foe based on magical aura alone.
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On Monday after Transfiguration, where Professor McGonagall had them transforming pebbles into buttons, Hermione was brimming with a mix of impatience and anticipation. The lesson had gone smoothly but her thoughts were elsewhere. As soon as the class ended and students began to spill out of the room, she grabbed Ron and Harry by their robes and tugged them aside into a quiet corner of the hallway, away from the chattering crowd.
“What’s this about?” Ron asked, raising an eyebrow as Hermione began rifling through her bag with the intensity of someone preparing for a grand reveal.
“I found something this weekend in the library,” she said briskly, pulling out the hefty, leather-bound tome she had discovered the day before. She flipped through the pages with purpose, her fingers skimming over the faded parchment until she landed on the chapter she had marked. “Here,” she said, holding the book out so they could see the detailed illustration of a massive, snarling three-headed dog.
Ron and Harry leaned closer, their curiosity piqued. “That’s it,” Harry said, his voice low as he pointed at the page. “That’s the thing guarding the corridor.”
Hermione nodded. “Exactly. It’s called a Cerberus in Muggle mythology—a guardian of the underworld. This book confirms it’s a real creature in our world too. They’re rare, incredibly dangerous, and almost always used to protect something of extreme importance.” She cleared her throat and began to read aloud the chapter to them.
When she finished, Harry and Ron seemed to be processing the implications. Harry broke the silence first. “So, what do you think it’s protecting?”
“I don’t know,” Hermione admitted, “But it would have to be something important or dangerous, wouldn’t it? Something that can’t be left unguarded, or something so valuable that it needs protection from outside forces.”
“Or,” Ron interjected, voice tinged with unease, “it’s keeping something locked away from us. What if it’s not protecting an object? What if it’s keeping something inside?” He shuddered.
“Well, I sure hope that if that’s the case, it doesn’t know how to get past the Cerberus. Imagine that thing scampering through the halls?” Harry fretted.
“I’m sure that Headmaster Dumbledore has protections of some kind on the room to prevent it getting out—at least, I hope so,” Hermione sighed. “Whatever it’s guarding must be serious enough for Dumbledore to justify the risk of it being so close to students. I at least hope he wouldn’t take the chance of that creature being kept in a school otherwise.”
Harry’s brow furrowed in thought. “But what could be so important?” he asked. “Do you know of anything dangerous enough to need that level of protection?”
Hermione shook her head, frustration creeping into her tone. “I’ve been thinking it over, but I can’t think of anything off the top of my head. I mean, there’s the obvious—artifacts, jewels, art, that kind of thing—but that doesn’t seem significant enough. We should definitely try to figure out whatever it is.”
“And how are we supposed to do that?” Ron asked, crossing his arms. “Dumbledore’s not going to just tell us, is he?”
“We’ll need to do research,” Harry determined. “There’s got to be some clue in the library that can point us in the right direction.”
Ron groaned dramatically. “Research? You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re allergic to research, Harry.”
Hermione snorted, unable to resist a laugh. “I think you mean you’re allergic to research, Ron.”
Ron pulled a face. “I certainly am. All those books and dust and long words—it’s enough to put me right off my dinner.”
“This is important, Ron,” Harry pressed, ignoring his friend's dramatics. “We’ve got to at least try. Who knows what’s really going on in that corridor?”
Ron sighed, rolling his eyes as though the weight of the wizarding world had been placed squarely on his shoulders. “Alright, fine. But if I start turning into Hermione with all this reading, you’ll have to check me into the Hospital Wing.”
“Hey!” Hermione sputtered, her cheeks flushing as she swatted his arm lightly. “I’m standing right here, you know!” Harry burst out laughing, and Ron’s grin widened as he ducked away from another mock attack.
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On the final day of September, the routine rhythm of school life was interrupted by a surge of excitement as the first edition of the year’s Hogwarts Chronicle was released to the student body. The air buzzed with anticipation, chatter in the Great Hall growing louder as students spotted the freshly printed newspapers heading for them over breakfast.
For Hermione, the sight of the newspaper was the culmination of weeks of tireless work.
The days leading up to its release were a whirlwind of frantic last-minute preparations and revisions. Long hours had been spent editing and designing every aspect of the newspaper, the air filled with the scent of ink and parchment, the sound of quills scratching against paper punctuated by bursts of animated discussion. When the final article was proofread, the illustrations enchanted to move seamlessly, and the copies printed and bound, there had been an audible collective sigh of relief from all involved. That moment felt like magic in its purest form: the collaboration of creative minds united by a shared passion, vision and goal.
Hermione clutched her copy of the Hogwarts Chronicle with an overwhelming sense of pride. The crisp, slightly rough texture of the paper between her fingers and the faint smell of fresh ink was a testament to her hard work. She traced her name with her fingertip, printed neatly beside Amelia’s under their co-authored articles. Seeing her name in print sparked a deep sense of accomplishment, the kind that left her beaming for the rest of the week.
Over lunch, Ron, Harry and Neville all read her article with a nervous Hermione awaiting their reactions. “So what do you think?” Hermione asked, unable to hold in her words any longer.
“This is brilliant, Hermione,” Harry said once he’d finished.
“Really?”
“Of course!” Neville chimed in, “You did amazing.”
Ron, on the other hand, smirked teasingly. “Bit wordy, isn’t it?”
Hermione rolled her eyes but couldn’t help grinning. “It’s called being thorough, Ron.”
Her friends’ reactions were enough to make her heart swell, but what truly sent her over the moon was the letter she received from her mother later that week. Alongside a heartfelt congratulations, her mother had included a photograph of her article framed and hanging in their living room at home. Hermione had stared at the picture for what felt like hours, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. That her Mum, so far removed from the wizarding world, had taken such pride in her achievement was more than she could have hoped for. It was a reminder that no matter how far Hogwarts seemed from home, she was always supported.
Nothing could have dimmed her spirits that week, not even the firm grip of autumn that descended on the castle with the arrival of October. The castle grounds transformed as the leaves turned shades of gold, orange, and crimson, blanketing the paths in a mosaic of warm colours. The wind grew sharper, howling through the corridors and carrying with it the unmistakable scent of wood smoke from the castle’s many fireplaces. Students began to bundle themselves in thicker robes and scarves, their cheeks flushed pink as they hurried between classes.
Inside, the castle grew cozier as the chill of autumn crept in. Fires crackled in common rooms, their warmth drawing students like moths to a flame. Hermione often found herself seated by the hearth in the Slytherin common room, a stack of books on her lap and her quill in hand, basking in the glow of both the fire and her recent success.
But the changing season also brought an increase in academic demands. The professors, as though conspiring with one another, began to pile on essays, practical assignments, and additional chapters to read. The weight of their workload left little room for distraction or speculation about mysterious trapdoors and what might be hidden behind them. By the time Hermione finished her nightly reading or completed her Potions essay, her mind was so exhausted that even her curiosity about the third-floor corridor had to wait.
Still, as the days grew colder and the nights stretched longer, the glow of her achievement with the Hogwarts Chronicle remained a steady warmth within her. It was a reminder of what she could accomplish when she put her mind to it, even amidst the chaos and mysteries of Hogwarts.
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“T-Today, we will be practising the Wingardium Leviosa charm, which I’m assured by P-Professor Flitwick you’ve all mastered in his c-class. While it is traditionally a levitation charm, it has many other uses that you might not have considered, particularly in duelling. As we’ve discussed before, duelling isn’t all about large, dramatic spells—sometimes, the most effective duelling comes from using what’s a-around you to achieve your goal. Today, we’ll be practising with something a little heavier than the f-feathers you’ve been levitating in Charms,” Professor Quirrell stammered, his eyes flickering nervously between the students. His voice, though quiet, still held a weight of authority that commanded attention. “I’ve g-got a stack of pillows here, and we’re going to see if you can maintain f-focus and precision in levitating them, all while using the force to direct them at your target. This will test your c-control and accuracy. I’ll pair you up based on your performance in Charms. Please stand up, p-place your bags to the side, and allow me to move the t-tables and chairs before gathering beside your partners once I announce them.”
The students set their bags to the side and glanced at one another, curious and uncertain as Professor Quirrell rearranged the furniture into stacks, allowing the middle of the room to be free for their use.
The room buzzed with anticipation about their pairs as Professor Quirrell read from a list, “Miss G-Greengrass with Miss Brown, Mr Longbottom with Mr Thomas, Miss Parkinson with Miss Patil, Mr P-Potter with Mr Nott, Miss Lestrange with Mr Zabini, Mr Weasley with Miss Runcorn, Mr Finnegan with Mr Goyle, Miss G-Granger with Mr Malfoy, and Miss Bulstrode with Miss Davis.”
Hermione’s stomach churned. Of course, she’d been paired with Draco. Unbeknownst to him, they were cousins, but she’d rather forget that part of their family history with how insufferable he’d become in recent weeks. As they’d settled into life at Hogwarts, Draco’s smug confidence had seemed to only get worse, as had his contempt for her, Harry and Ron—in fact, for anyone other than himself. Just last weekend, in fact, he and Harry had nearly come to blows during a Quidditch Skirmish. And last night, he’d snapped at Hermione for sitting in a chair in the common room that Draco had unknowingly claimed as his own.
"I’m going to love watching you fail at this, Granger," Draco muttered under his breath, his sneer cutting through the air like a blade. His smirk was almost too proud of the petty insult, clearly hoping for a reaction and it worked.
"In your dreams, Malfoy," Hermione shot back, keeping her voice steady despite the familiar irritation bubbling within her.
“Alright!” Professor Quirrell interjected over their groans of displeasure at their pairings, “As d-discussed, the goal here is simple—levitate your pillow, aim it at your opponent, and r-release the spell at the same time you thrust your wand arm toward them. While doing so, be mindful of your surroundings—everyone’s safety is paramount. I’ll be monitoring, and anyone who shows d-disregard for safety will be receiving detention. A-anyone who successfully and safely accomplishes this task will earn ten points for their House. Let’s begin.”
Hermione drew her wand from its holster, silently glad for its practicality, which kept it more accessible than a pocket ever could.
Draco, on the other hand, had already drawn his wand with a flourish, looking ready to show off. “I can’t wait to watch you make a fool of yourself in front of everyone,” he sneered, voice dripping with venom-filled hope at her potentially failing.
Ignoring him, Hermione took a deep breath and lifted her wand with precision. "Wingardium Leviosa," she said, voice firm, the words rolling off her tongue confidently. For a moment, the pillow before her remained still, heavy and unyielding—much more difficult than the feathers she was accustomed to in Charms class. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she poured more energy into her magic, and slowly, ever so, the pillow began to rise. It wobbled in the air, just a few inches off the ground, trembling slightly, but it was enough. She held the charm for nearly fifteen seconds before her control wavered and the pillow dropped with a soft thud. A small sense of satisfaction swelled in her chest. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.
Draco, watching her with a cocked brow. He clearly hadn’t been impressed at first, but as the pillow hovered for those few seconds, his face shifted. He narrowed his eyes, pride pricked, and he stepped forward. “Wingardium Leviosa!” he declared. But the force behind his movement was far too sharp—his wand jabbed forward so hard that the pillow shot into the air like a cannonball, slamming into the ceiling. It crashed back down just as quickly, landing with a dull thud.
The entire class fell silent for a moment before a few suppressed giggles rippled through them. Draco scowled, a blush of embarrassment creeping up his neck.
Hermione fought back a laugh but kept her voice calm as she explained, “You’re jabbing your wand too hard. Just let the movements flow naturally from your wrist.”
Draco glared at her, his teeth grinding. “I know what I’m doing, Granger. Mind your own business,” he snapped sharply. With a flick of his wrist, he tried again—this time with more control. The pillow shook briefly before it floated steadily in the air, higher than before. He couldn’t hold it for long, but it was much stronger than his initial attempt.
"Well, if you knew what you were doing, you would’ve done it right the first time," Hermione couldn’t help but fire back. "I’m trying to help you—it’s not my fault you’re too self-righteous to take it."
“Self-righteous? Says the person who always has to be the smartest one in the room. I didn’t ask for your help. Go help one of the poor Gryffindors, I’m sure they’ll satisfy your need for praise.”
Before Hermione could respond, Ron’s voice rang out from beside them, clearly having overheard their little squabble. His tone was loud and filled with disdain. “Oh, please, Malfoy. You like to talk down to everyone else and act all high and mighty, but from where I’m standing, you just seem insecure that Hermione did better than you.”
Draco whipped around, his face turning red with fury. "Who was talking to you, Weasley?" he snarled, his gaze locking onto Ron. "I’m not the one who should be insecure. At least my parents didn’t have more children than they could afford. Don’t your family all sleep in one room? Focus on yourself and trying to be the first successful Weasel in history.”
Ron’s temper flared at the insult, and he stormed toward Draco, face flushed with rage and his wand pointed threateningly. “Say that again, Malfoy. See what happens to your poncey nose!”
That seemed to be the catalyst. The room erupted in chaos, students from both Houses hurling insults at one another. The lesson had disintegrated into a war zone of raised voices and angry gestures. Professor Quirrell stood frozen, face ghostly pale and hands trembling as he tried to regain control of the class, but with the cacophony of shouting voices, no one was listening.
Finally, as it seemed like things were about to escalate further between Ron and Draco, he managed to find his bearings. “QUIET!” His furious voice cut through the noise. Nobody had ever heard Quirrell speak that loud and it did well to shock them into silence. “I’ve had enough of this! All of you—every single one of you—will receive detention and can be expected to receive a summons from your Head of House once they’re made aware. If I ever hear this kind of nonsense again, I will ban you from ever attempting to duel during your years at Hogwarts and you can say goodbye to any extracurriculars.”
As they all filed out of the room, a combination of still simmering rage and embarrassment from being scolded, none of them even noticed that Quirrell hadn’t stuttered once.
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
That afternoon, Professor Snape summoned all of his Slytherin first-years to his office. The summons had travelled quickly through the common room like water spreading through cracks in the ice, and by the time the last of them trudged reluctantly to his door, the group had worked themselves into a collective panic.
Hermione could hardly believe she was about to face her Head of House for a disciplinary issue. Detention. The very word sent a sick twist through her stomach, like a potion gone horribly wrong. Her fingers twisted the hem of her robes as she shuffled in with the others. What would her Mum say?
The argument in Defense Against the Dark Arts had been ridiculous; a petty squabble that spiralled far beyond control and reason. She had only been trying to help Draco, yes, but inevitably she had allowed his anger with her assistance to get to her and had only fuelled the flames of the argument. Now, here she was, about to face the wrath of Snape himself.
None of them had been called into his office before, and the room itself did nothing to ease their nerves. The dim glow of flickering candles and low-hanging lanterns cast unsettling, dancing shadows on the rough stone walls. Shelves crammed with books stretched almost to the ceiling, their spines faded with age or scribbled over in incomprehensible languages. Beneath them were rows of jars filled with murky liquids, suspended things that might have been plants or organs. The air carried a pungent medley of scents: the sharp tang of herbs, the acrid sting of chemicals, and, faintly, the metallic undertone of something that could have been blood.
In one corner of the room stood a potions workstation, where a cauldron bubbled quietly, emitting faint trails of greenish vapour. It looked for all the world like it was waiting to devour someone’s hand if they got too close, and Hermione thought that might be preferable to facing Snape, who sat behind a massive, dark wooden desk that appeared both well-used and eerily pristine. His black-robed figure was a part of the shadows, pale face illuminated just enough to reveal the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the inscrutable gleam in his dark eyes. He steepled his fingers, gaze sweeping over them with the detached precision of someone inspecting an experiment that might fail.
“Close the door behind you,” he said, voice soft but as cutting as a blade. Blaise Zabini, who had been lingering at the entrance, did as told. The students gathered in a hesitant semi-circle before the desk, each one keenly aware of how small they felt under Snape’s scrutiny. Hermione, for her part, tried to muster some semblance of composure, but her heart hammered so loudly in her chest that she was sure it was echoing off of the walls. “Do you have anything to say for yourselves?” he asked, his tone deceptively mild.
Alana stepped forward slightly—tentatively. “Professor Snape, we’re sorry, sir, we just got—”
Snape raised a hand, silencing her instantly. “An apology,” he said icily, “is not an apology if you tack on excuses at the end, Miss Runcorn.” He let the words linger in the air, heavy as lead before his gaze shifted to encompass them all. “I do not want to hear excuses from any of you. I expected better. Far better.”
Hermione felt the sting of the words as if they were aimed directly at her. Better. She should have been better. She knew better than to let herself get pulled into an argument, no matter how infuriating Malfoy could be. Shame burned hot in her cheeks and stomach.
His voice gained a hard edge as he continued, his words sharp enough to flay skin. “It is an embarrassment to this House and to Hogwarts itself when Slytherins—my Slytherins—behave like a pack of undisciplined children. Your petty squabbles in Defense Against the Dark Arts class not only disrupted Professor Quirrell’s attempts to educate you but exposed you as utterly lacking in self-control and decorum. You are here to learn, to excel, not to indulge in childish theatrics.”
The group stood frozen, their discomfort palpable. Even Draco Malfoy, usually smug and unshakable, had gone pale.
“Instigating arguments with your classmates under the pretence of superior knowledge is both foolish and unbecoming. It diminishes you, as much as it diminishes them. As punishment, you will all serve detention tomorrow evening at nine o’clock in the Forbidden Forest with Professor Sprout, Professor Kettleburn, Hagrid and I,” Snape continued, his tone brooking no argument. “You will report to the Great Hall on time where you will meet Professor Filch, who’ll bring you down to Hagrid’s hut. There you’ll be divided into groups and will come into the Forbidden Forest to assist me and the other Professors. I suggest you dress appropriately and arrive on time.”
“Additionally,” Snape said, leaning forward slightly, his gaze sharp enough to pin them in place, “Slytherin will lose ten points on behalf of each one of you. Perhaps the rest of the House will impress upon you the cost of your foolishness. Finally, I will be writing home to each of your parents with a disciplinary letter about what happened and your punishment.”
Hermione winced as though she’d been physically struck. Losing points for Slytherin felt like an indictment of her character, her abilities, and her worth. And all of them knew just how ruthless their house could be, particularly when they lost out on things—and losing that amount of points would drop their rank in the house cup significantly. But that paled in comparison to the thought of her Mum finding out what had happened.
He sat back, folding his arms. “I trust that this will serve as a sufficient reminder that such behaviour is unacceptable. Should any of you fail to learn this lesson, rest assured there will be… more creative consequences next time. Dismissed.”
The group stood there for a moment, stunned into silence. Hermione’s legs felt like jelly, but she forced herself to turn and follow the others out. How could I have let this happen? she thought miserably. She could already imagine the whispers in the common room and the disapproving looks from older students.
As the door shut behind them with a resounding thud, Hermione hung back slightly, glancing at Snape’s door one last time. For all her determination to prove herself, she’d just been reminded how quickly even the best intentions could land her in trouble—and how unforgiving Professor Snape could be.