Hermione in the library
After talking with Professor Babbling about magical traditions for a while, Hermione decided to make her way to the library. The Professor had essays to grade and she could already start with some research. Whenever Harry would return, he would know where to find her.
It was a calm and quiet Sunday, and so barely anyone was in the library. Hermione spotted a few Ravenclaws who noticed her immediately and greeted her with friendly nods. That was unusual, but once she recognised a few of the books they were working on together she understood: now the Claws had double-checked her claims from this morning, and it seemed like they respected her even more now. Good to know that there were at least some students respecting knowledge.
She went past Irma Pince’s desk to pick up her new Assistant Badge in exchange for a signature, and then the librarian handed her a few books.
“Miss Granger, once I finished the paperwork I took the liberty to get you some books regarding the Tournament. Rules, traditions, past challenges, things like that. But I think before you read through that there’s another thing we could do.”
“Really? And that would be…?”
“Follow me.”
Madam Pince just smirked and headed out of the library, while Hermione was following her, still a bit confused. Only a few minutes later the young student understood where they were apparently heading.
“Binns?”
“Yes. Cuthbert is definitely not a good teacher, especially being a ghost by now, and he forgets the really important parts of Magical History, but on the other hand, he does have a lot of knowledge. It’s worth a try.”
Hermione shrugged. She couldn’t really imagine Binns being helpful about anything but Goblin Rebellions, but if Madam Pince said so… The old ghost was always stuck droning about boring parts of history, and sometimes it seemed like he didn’t even perceive reality anymore. Every now and then he even held the same lesson twice in a row or discussed material of a different year with them. Rumour has it that sometimes he forgot that he was a ghost and thought it was still November 1903, thus holding the classes he had planned for the week he died.
As the librarian entered the classroom, Binns didn’t even look up and continued talking about…Hermione wasn’t even sure about what, it barely made sense. Well, and obviously the classroom was empty, it was Sunday after all.
“Cuthbert! Bloody hell, it’s Sunday you old ghost.”
Hermione stared at Pince, and moments later Binns did so too. A teacher swearing…well, it did work and Binns stopped talking. For a moment he seemed a little confused, but then his expression changed into frustration.
“Damn. I’m sorry, Irma. My mind just keeps getting worse and worse. I think I haven’t been able to follow the curriculum properly since the forties. Poor students.”
Then the ghost noticed Hermione and smiled at her.
“Miss Granger. I haven’t had many students who didn’t doze off in my class since…honestly, I don’t know. And I see you’re a library assistant now. Good for you.”
“Thank you, Professor. If I may ask…why is it that you’re turning forgetful? If I look at all the other ghosts in the castle, most are well aware of their surroundings. I hope that I’m not prying or anything.”
Binns laughed, apparently not troubled by the question at all.
“Oh, you’re a smart one. It is because I’m a relatively young ghost, and the same applies to Miss Warren, the one you know as…”
“Moaning Myrtle. Yes, I know her.”
“So I’ve heard, yes. See, she died while she was crying and in emotional distress. I died of old age, sleepy and exhausted, after having prepared the material for the chapter “goblin rebellions” for my classes. For me it’s even worse because I didn’t notice at first and got stuck in this mood and mindset. Then I fought it for a while, managing to teach properly until the early forties, and then it went downhill again. In another three or four decades I’ll probably have adapted to the existence as a ghost completely. Well, as good as I can, the Baron hasn’t managed to work through his sorrow and grief entirely in the past nine hundred years.”
“Oh…I didn’t know that. Anything I as a student can do, because I imagine your classes could be even more fascinating when you’re not…no offence but…”
“Hey, I don’t take any offence, I know my classes are beyond boring. I don’t know, approach me, talk to me and make me snap out of it before class. Irma manages to do that at least. Worth a try and I would appreciate that. But now back to business. What can I do for you?”
Irma began to explain that Dumbledore brought back the Triwizard Tournament and that poor Harry was chosen as the fourth champion despite not having entered.
“Albus did what? And poor Mr Potter. I assume you want some help while staying within the rules?”
“Yes. Filius and Bathsheda are helping him prepare against Voldemort or the very dangerous Sirius Black - who’s actually innocent. And…I’m helping Miss Granger to collect information about past Tournaments to satisfy her immense curiosity.”
“You both are brilliant. Sure, I’ll help you…for a price.”
While Irma just sighed and rolled her eyes, Hermione didn’t hesitate in saying “Name your price.”
“Oh, I like your enthusiasm. You’ll do your best making me snap out of my monotony and fill me in on everything. I do notice most of what’s going on in the world, despite my monotony. I know Black is innocent, I know Potter doesn’t seem to be informed of his family’s legacy, I know Albus is turning senile and acting strangely. You’re doing something against it and I want to know what. I’m a historian - naturally curious.”
“Deal…but how didn’t you know about the Tournament?”
“The time before Halloween is always a little…troubling for ghosts. Especially us young ones. I was going to catch up once Samhain was over and its aftereffects were gone.”
Hermione nodded, she knew that the magical energy released into the world the days leading up to Samhain was quite strong. Satisfied with the explanation, she began telling the ghost about Dumbledore’s negligence regarding Harry and his upbringing, and how they were going to change things from now on, hoping that he’d survive the tournament. About half an hour and a cup of tea (house elves are magnificent beings, and always so caring) later, the story came to an end. Binns was a little shocked, curious about the Headmaster’s motivations and fully supportive of Hermione’s intentions.
“Okay, I can give you a thorough summary tomorrow, but let me begin with the basic facts. The first Triwizard Tournament was held in 1132, initiated by Beauxbaton and its Headmaster. The Goblet was added eight years later, bought by the revenues of the two previous Tournaments. It’s goblin made and was enchanted by Europe’s leading enchanters and rune wizards to choose the most suitable candidate for the three challenges. I assume you’ve read all about the last Tournaments before it was declared too deadly and dangerous, so I’ll skip that part. Usually the challenges were a test of power, a test of wisdom and skill, and a test of speed and creativity. The first one was either getting past a dangerous creature - XXXX and higher - or something else requiring spontaneity and raw power. Dragons, Nundus, Cockatrices, Basilisk and so on. You receive a hint for the next challenge if you succeed. The next one is sort of a treasure hunt. Rushing through a canyon or cave, diving in a lake or flying. Understand the clue, be prepared, find your way and get your treasure. They used objects, helpful for the last task, things with sentimental value, actual hostages or just hints for challenge three. The last one is a race, one with hazardous traps, be it a maze, a cave system or an old ruin…filled with traps, creatures, challenges and tests. That’s the general overview, and yes, it is barbaric. Maybe check the challenges of the last five or so tournaments. They would have looked through old ones as inspiration, but seeing that the last one was even before Dumbledore was alive…why not recycle those instead of going back further, which is more effort for them. Noone remembers the last ones either way. Oh and go check the current legislation, but you should have a right to ask for information on any imported creature XXX and higher. Result of an escaped Cerberus in 1853 killing four wizarding children in Hogsmeade.”
Because she was busy trying to wrap her head around all the information she just got, Hermione didn’t even find the time to rant about the Ministry, their idiocy or their incompetence. She thanked Professor Binns and went back into the library to do as he suggested. Who would have guessed Binns could actually tell her something interesting - and something not related to Goblin Rebellions. That whole thing about ghosts and their behaviour would be something to research at a later time - but it did explain Binns’ comments on the Chamber of Secrets back in second year and why Myrtle was a bit more normal from time to time when Hermione was brewing in the bathroom.
It would take another hour or two - Hermione tended to lose track of time - until she heard the familiar sound of Harry’s steps behind her. She put the quill down and turned around to see the smiling boy walk up to her.
“Hey Mione!”
“Oh, not again, Harry James Potter!”
Yes, she was grinning while saying that, because she actually liked him using that abbreviation. It was nice, very nice. And somehow, even though she didn’t really know why, Hermione Granger blushed a little.
“So, what have you been up to while I was gone? Anything interesting?”
Hermione nodded enthusiastically and began rambling about Binns and how he helped them before ranting about the Tournament and its potential tasks. At some point, while she was talking about the traditions of Magical Britain and how Professor Babbling explained them to her, she realised that she had been going on about all of that for over ten minutes instead of asking Harry what happened with the Goblins. Not that Harry seemed to mind, he actually smiled at her and listened while scribbling down one or the other note.
“Oh, I’m sorry. How rude that must…”
“Shush, I would have said something if I minded, Mione. I love listening to your little rambles.”
Hermione blushed.
Harry’s smile just got a little wider seeing her blush. Maybe she’d actually like him.
Hermione in turn just began to panic a little. Why was she blushing? And why did Harry seem to be so happy? Gosh, why did he just have to say such adorable things? He really was perfect, and so cute.
Stop.
No.
She couldn’t think about her best friend like that, and especially not now.
Anyway…she needed to think about something different now.
“So, how was it at Gringotts?”
Harry reached into his satchel and handed her a few sheets of parchment.
“Told you, I’d write you notes.”
Gosh.
Why?
Why was Harry James Potter so freaking adorable?
Trying to ignore her blush, she grabbed the notes and read them in her nearly inhuman speed. Yes, when it came to reading she was a little maniac.
“Merlin! What kind of dark magic is that soul fragment? Potions…gosh, I’m going to murder your relatives. All those injuries… Thank god you can fix all of that with magic. An exorcism, okay. The will…that’s gonna free Sirius, fabulous, then you don’t have to go to the Dursleys anymore. Not that I would have allowed that either way, and if I have to kidnap you. Oh. You have a respectable amount of money - damn, you’re wealthy. And…titles? Bloody cup emancipating you, Dumbledore is going to be so upset. Oh and that is fabulous. Marquis de Fleamont. Lucius Malfoy is only a Vicomte, so you outrank him. That’s gonna make Malfoy shut up - or whine even more.”
And while Hermione continued to ramble and read through the documents, Harry just smiled. How she managed to understand all of that at this speed he didn’t know, but damn it was adorable.
After having read Harry’s summary, Hermione asked a few clarification questions regarding his titles and finances, and wanted to know a bit more about the potions the goblins had prescribed him. It was quite shocking to have actual evidence regarding Harry’s treatment at the Dursleys, but hopefully he wouldn’t have to endure that any longer. Just approach Barty Crouch Senior and hope that he would do what was right and his duty. The Potters once had an alliance with the Crouch Family, all fighters for the light side. His family honour practically demanded it of him.
So, after raging a little bit, Hermione began to inquire about the last part of his trip: the vault.
“Oh, you’re gonna love that. We just need a secluded place, I’m definitely not going to unpack all of that where everyone can see us. Let’s just go and ask Madam Pince?”
Hermione nodded, quickly put back the books and approached the librarian.
“Excuse me, do you have any idea where we could go to train and see what Harry brought from his vault?”
She thought for a moment, and then nodded.
“Follow me.”
Both teenagers followed her into the Forbidden Section of the library, deeper than they’ve ever been. At the end of the section about ritual magic there was a corridor to the right, with a locked metal gate.
“No unlocking charm is going to get you through this. Rowena Ravenclaw once created that door. Behind it are the laboratory, the ritual chambers and a private reading room. Decades ago professors used that to work on new spells or do some obscure rituals. Even external researchers came here. I believe Nicolas Flamel taught the Headmaster a lot of Alchemy in this laboratory. But these days research is stagnant and no one really comes here anymore. Bathsheda did some runes work here six or seven years ago, and I keep everything clean and tidy, but that’s it. You may use that area if you’re not going to go around telling everyone. Okay?”
Both nodded, Hermione practically bursting with excitement.
“Then touch this spot there. The door has no real lock, it recognises your magical signature. Only I can add and remove people from that.”
Once she was done, the gate opened and Madam Pince led the duo into the dark corridor. As they were walking down that path torches flared up and enlightened everything. There were several doors, all with signs on them. Hermione fully intended to check out the ritual rooms, the lab, the research station…
But right now their destination was the reading room.
“Wow.”
As soon as they stepped across the doorstep, the fireplace lit up and filled the big room with light and warmth. There were a few comfortable armchairs, a coffee table, a few cupboards and a huge amount of books.
“There, you’ll find things like quills, ink and parchment in there, I think in there you’ll have a tea service, magical tools should be in the cupboard over there. Beyond that…you’d have to check for yourself. So, may I see what you’ve got in that trunk of yours? Oh don’t look so surprised, I sense the shrinking charm radiating from your pocket.”
Harry nodded, he didn’t have a problem with Madam Pince joining them. She was one of those people who truly wanted to help them.
He reversed the charm on the trunk and opened it. The first thing he reached for was the painting of Grandpa Henry. Hermione didn’t seem to understand what was so special but Irma Pince actually squealed a little. Strangely, Henry didn’t seem to wake up.
“That is…fantastic. Oh, don’t worry, Hogwarts just has a lot of ambient magic, much more than any Manor or Gringotts. It’ll take a few hours until the painting adjusts to the new level of energy input. Henry wants to help you?”
“OH! That’s a magical painting. Of your great-grandfather?”
“Yes, it is. I talked to him and he wants to help. He’s fantastic. And everything else is his stuff as well, and Filius threw in some additional books. Haven’t looked at it yet.”
Now both the librarian and Hermione were even more excited. Henry had been one of the strongest magic users of the past centuries.
So, following a few sets of formal robes, be it for the Wizengamot or just other official stuff, there were two wand holsters. Harry put the first one on his wrist and offered the second to Hermione, but as the girl pointed out, she didn’t really need one right now and this was intended for a backup wand - which would be a smart idea. And so Harry tried the four wands from the trunk and settled for Henry’s main wand. That one and an ancient seeming English Oak wand worked best, but the Walnut wand (greatly suited for inventors, very versatile) was well-known and would solidify his image. Both following the footsteps of a brilliant light wizard and honouring a pureblooded ancestor. Both sides would respect that, and all sorts of good publicity would be great. He didn’t need a redo of year two and being public enemy number one.
After pulling a sword and three daggers out of the trunk, they reached Henry’s tools. A calligraphy set to draw runes, an engraving set for when once worked with something like stone, alchemy and potions tools and much more. Lastly Harry found a few small magical gadgets which he would inspect at a later point in time, because now he found himself holding Henry Potter’s notebooks on runes. Those were no ordinary books, instead they could only be opened by a Potter and were embedded with a set of spells that would react positively with the magical gift of the Potter bloodline. Or, to phrase it differently: he would understand that stuff much quicker because it was optimised for how Potter brains were wired. And while that saddened Hermione, she understood and instead got another of Henry’s books, this one being a draft for a new Runes textbook with an expanded curriculum, but he never published it because he was never completely satisfied. Still, it explained much more than common books, including two nearly forgotten runic alphabets.
An hour or two later, Harry and Hermione were still reading through their respective books and scribbling down notes. That was a very efficient way to use the weekend, and neither of them was looking forward to classes tomorrow. Starting into the week with facing off Hufflepuffs in Herbology wasn’t really nice given the current situation. They hadn’t been among the students long enough to know how things were looking, but even if the majority believed them, the Puffs wouldn’t be happy either. And Ron…well, that was another bad situation. As if he would forget his jealousy. What a prat.
“Harry?”
He looked up from his book and smiled at her.
“Hm? What is it?”
“I hope you know that your great-grandfather was absolutely evil. He substituted every second word in this chapter with an Elder Futhark rune and I have to go through all the different meanings of the rune to decipher what he’s trying to say.”
Harry laughed, this was actually a very brilliant concept to make students interact more closely with runes and see them actually like languages and not just symbols with half a dozen meanings.
“Oh, stop moping. We both know what he wants to achieve with that. And hey, I had an introductory chapter about how runes work, then a brief introduction to Elder Futhark, Younger Futhark, High Egyptian, Mesopotamian and Incan. The three hundred most important words in each language, basic rules of grammar and the logic behind how the runes look. Every following chapter is written in those runes, deviating between paragraphs. New words in footnotes and I’m pretty sure there’s a compulsion charm to make me look up every single rune until I know it. Right now I’m learning to read the languages fluently before even beginning to think about the runic magic. And believe it or not, I understand it. Must be my bloodline gift or something, but it works. And I’m pretty sure I’ve seen notebooks for all sorts of languages - magical or not - in there. Logically speaking it shouldn’t work at this speed but it does. Magic I guess. How are you doing?”
Hermione shook her head in disbelief. This really shouldn’t work. Not to such an extent at least. But hey, magic is strange.
“I’m just totally confused, but it’s working. Slowly I’m getting a feeling for the languages. I didn’t even know that you could do something like that. Runes aren’t supposed to be a language, just…I don’t know. I’m confused.”
“Let me guess, it goes against everything you thought about magic? Everything wand-based is working with intent, and if we’d be good enough we wouldn’t even need to use incantations. But this, this works on accurate phrasing and grammar.”
“Yes, that sounds about right.”
“Thought so. I think it’s because…that’s hard to explain. When we do magic, it comes from within, we use our magical core. And whatever we want, what we imagine, then manifests. But runes are something completely different. That’s why you used them in all sorts of magical items. Their outcome is constant, always the same. Otherwise enchanted objects wouldn’t really work because we need to fill them with the right intent. And as if everyone could do that properly. It would leave loopholes in wards, mistakes in enchantments and so on.”
Hermione - who was still slightly surprised by Harry’s brilliant explanation - nodded, but she wasn’t entirely happy just yet.
“But what is the difference? I get what you say, but why?”
“Because, Miss Granger, Runes don’t draw energy from within. Yes, they need a splash of magical energy to activate, but then they draw their power from ambient magic and ley lines. Once you’ve done all the wiring, you only need to plug it in once. Then the power runs through the wires and creates a steady outcome. Maybe that’s a metaphor which makes more sense for you. The intent doesn’t matter, because you don’t feed it with intent beyond the initial “activate”. It sustains itself, always constant. That is why grammar is so important. You cannot rectify a wrong phrasing by simply thinking it away. It just is and cannot be removed.”
Startled, Hermione turned towards the door, just to see it closed. No one had entered. But who…
Then she heard Harry’s laugh and understood. The portrait had awakened. And indeed, Henry Potter was laughing.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger. I am Henry Potter, the late Lord of House Potter and Marquis de Fleamont. Master of Runes, Master of Potions, Master of Charms and Transfiguration, Member of the International Duelling League, Head of Britain’s Society of Runes and Member of the Society of Potioneers. It’s wonderful to meet a friend of young Harry.”
And Hermione was completely lost for words.