Chapter 6
As they headed through the halls, Hermione tried to shake off the strange feeling she’d had in the dining room and concentrate on the here and now. Defense Against the Dark Arts was one of her favorite classes, and this was the last class before midterms. She needed to get her head back in the game. They entered the room and looked around in surprise. The desks were gone, and most of the room was empty. In front of the huge bay windows were several sets of very comfortable looking couches and armchairs. In the middle of the room were two arm chairs facing one another. Professor Kowalski greeted them with her signature wide smile, and an accent Hermione had only heard used in old movies.
“Come in! Come in! Don’t dawdle in the doorway! We’re going to have such a good class! I’m so excited! Come in! Come in!” Professor Kowalski did not, upon first impression, seem like the Defense Against the Dark Arts type. She was tall, blonde, and beautiful with the sunniest disposition Hermione had ever seen. Her smile never faded, and her voice was always peppy, with every sentence she said ending in an exclamation point. Hermione had only seen this happy demeanor drop one time, and it was when Ron’s brothers Fred and George had set off a stink bomb in the hallway outside her classroom. Even though she was around 90 years old, she looked as if she were in her 60s. Despite her waif-like appearance, Hermione knew that she had once helped to take down the evil wizard Grindelwald, and was extremely expert at defensive spells.
Once the class was assembled on the couches, class was called to order. “All right, class! Today is an exciting day! As you know, we have midterms next week!” She beamed at the class as though this was the most exciting thing that could possibly happen to them in their young lives. She was completely undeterred by her students’ lack of answering enthusiasm. “I know that normally we would do a formal review on the last day of class, but I want to try something new!” This got their attention. “Who here can tell me what Legilimency and Occlumency are? Yes, Hermione?”
“Legilimency is the act of magically navigating through the many layers of a person's mind and correctly interpreting one's findings. A person who practices this art was known as a Legilimens. Occlumency is the opposite of Legilimency. It is the art of protecting one’s mind from a Legilimens.”
“That was a perfect definition, Miss Granger! 10 points to Horned Serpent!” Hermione tried not to look too smug. “Today, you all will begin learning Occlumency!” Again she beamed at the class as if expecting an excited response, but was met with murmured confusion. Hermione raised her hand.
“I’m sorry, Professor, but isn’t Occlumency part of the 7th year curriculum?”
“You are correct, Miss Granger! But I thought it would be fun to learn some of the basics today! So here’s what we’ll do; you all will sit on the couches and relax and study for the final, and one by one I’ll call you over and teach you some basic Occlumency skills! Doesn’t that sound like fun?” This time, she got the excited response she’d been hoping for. “Alright! Emma Abbott, you’re up first!”
Hermione sat down and began pulling out her notes, but she shouldn’t have bothered. Ron flopped dramatically onto the couch next to her and flung his arm around her shoulders. Harry took the seat opposite them and rubbed his hands together excitedly. “Occlumency!” Harry marveled. “ I can't believe she’s starting so early.” He looked surreptitiously over his shoulder and his eyes darkened. Hermione’s eyes followed his.
“So, I take it you and Chepi still haven’t talked?” she said. Harry glared at her and she rolled her eyes. Chepi was flirting shamelessly with a couchful of boys while stealing glances at Harry to see if he was noticing. “Dude. Just go talk to her. It’s clear you both still like each other. What’s the big deal? Why are you being such a wuss?” Harry dropped his head into his hands.
“I don’t know, Mione. I really don’t. Every time I try to talk to her, my brain goes all fuzzy and I can’t get my words out right, and I end up talking about feet or mud or ‘hey, have you seen the new trapper-keeper?’ or something equally inane. And then she looks at me like I’m an idiot, pats me on the back, and walks away. She’s just… so far out of my league. And she clearly knows it. She obviously just enjoys watching me make an ass out of myself. She never says anything back, she just lets me ramble and then walks away. Who does that? Ugh!”
Hermione debated how much to say to Harry. It’s a fine line to walk when your friends like each other and they’re both being ridiculous. “Look, Harry. You just need to loosen up. How about instead of trying to have a random conversation in the hall, you go ask her on a date. Have Mimsy bring you a picnic by the waterfall. Don’t talk first. Wait for her to break the ice, and follow her lead.”
Harry nodded along, his eyes lighting up as she talked. “Yeah. Yeah! Okay! I can do that.” He thought about it for a minute and then looked at her sharply. “But it’s winter!”
“...And?”
“And… It’s too friggin cold for a picnic! We’ll freeze!”
“DUDE,” Ron finally butted into the conversation. Harry looked at him with manic eyes.
“What? Why are you dude-ing me?” Harry was starting to lose it.
“Because, dude. You’re a friggin wizard, Harry. All you have to do is create a bubble and cast a warming charm. You could even, oh I don’t know… light a fire for crying out loud. And actually, that’s perfect because you can roast marshmallows. And then you can recite that scene from The Sandlot. That bit kills me every time, dude. Your impression is uncanny.”
“Well, I don’t know about the Sandlot part, but S’mores would be fun. I know Chepi likes them, and I know she likes you. So just chill out and ask her. You two are making me nuts,” Hermione said, and decided to change the subject. She turned to Ron and patted him on the knee. “How about you, Ron?” Ron was confused.
“What about me? I don’t want to ask Chepi out. Even if Harry hadn’t been moping about her for the last four months, she’s really not my type.”
Hermione rolled her eyes and was about to respond, when Harry yelled “Hey! What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, man. Geez. I’m just not into the terrifying ones who speak in nothing but sarcasm and girly gibberish, that’s all.”
Now it was Hermione’s turn to be offended. “What is that supposed to mean? How is she terrifying? She’s Chepi. We’ve known her since we were kids. And what exactly is ‘girly gibberish’ anyway?”
“The fact that we’ve known her most of our lives just adds to the terror,” Ron answered. It’s not bad enough that she’s the most powerful witch in the school, and the only person who can come close to beating you at dueling. No, no, no. That would be child’s play if it weren’t for the fact that she is merciless when it comes to pranking people, and she knows every single fear and insecurity and embarrassing story I have. ALL of them. I live every day in fear that she’s going to come for me. I won’t stand a chance.” He hung his head and shook it.
“And the gibberish comment?” Hermione pushed.
“Blech!” Ron spat as he made a face. “All she talks about are clothes and makeup and musicals. Yuck! Every time she talks to me it’s about some new hair care product or how I’m not wearing enough sunscreen because my freckles keep multiplying…. Why are you two laughing? What?” he whined. It took almost two full minutes for Harry and Hermione to pull themselves together.
“Dude. She’s totally messing with you. She never talks about that stuff to me. She hates that stuff. Have you ever even seen her wear makeup?” Harry said, chucking. Hermione started giggling again. Ron looked back and forth between them with his mouth hanging open.
“Are you serious right now? She’s been messing with me this whole time?!”
Hermione giggled again as she nodded her head. “Sorry, Ron, but you’ve been had. I guess you were right about that whole psychological torture thing. She really is terrifying.”
“THANK YOU!” Ron shouted so loudly that the whole class paused and stared at them for a moment before resuming their conversations. He looked at Hermione sheepishly and his face turned bright red.
Just then Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see the kindly face of their teacher smiling back at her. “It’s your turn, dear!” She chirped. Hermione followed her to the center of the room and sat in the puffy chair sitting opposite her teacher.
“All right, dear. Just relax. I want you to close your eyes and imagine you’re in a big empty field. Ok, now, I want you to build walls around yourself. Make them as big and thick and strong as you can. Good. Now add a roof to your structure. Alright. I am going to try to get into your building now, honey.”
Hermione did not know what to expect. What would it feel like? Were her walls strong enough? She’d read several books on the subject of Occlumency, so she knew the basic theory, but theory didn’t always translate into reality. Suddenly a door appeared in one wall and Professor Kowalski walked through it, smiling.
“Well done, honey! Yours is the best structure I’ve seen so far!” she said. Hermione felt slightly bewildered.
“But… you got in so quickly. I didn’t even notice you testing my walls. I thought I was supposed to feel something. Did I do something wrong?”
“Hermione, calm down sweetie. You did great! Legilimecy doesn’t hurt unless the person performing it either wants it to or has no idea what they’re doing. Yes, I got in quickly, but it’s your first try. And I had to do significantly more than huff and puff to blow your house in, which is more than I can say for your classmates. Would you like to meet with me outside of class to work on this more?”
Hermione was ecstatic. “Of course I would! That would be amazing! Thank you!”
“Alright, honey. I’ll see you tomorrow after dinner.”
The following evening, Hermione sat in the dining hall, hardly eating and barely listening to the conversation. Her leg wouldn’t stop bouncing and she kneaded her hands incessantly beneath the table. She was having her bi-weekly dinner with Nia, who had adjusted to Ilvermorny exceptionally well, and was not only the most popular person in her grade, but also the top of her class. Normally Hermione loved these dinners, but she was so excited for her meeting with Professor Kowalski that she couldn’t concentrate.
“Yeah, so that’s when I melted some of Fred and George’s Barf Bucket candies and poured them into his cup, and he barfed for four straight hours.” Hermione heard Nia say.
“Whoa! Hold on. WHAT?” Hermione said, finally focusing on the conversation. Nia just burst out laughing.
“Oh my god, Mione.” She couldn’t seem to stop giggling, which made Hermione scowl. “I’ve been going on and on for the last five minutes saying the most ridiculous things I can think of, and all I got out of you were distracted ‘oh’s’ and 'mhmms.’ Where is your head tonight?”
“I’m so sorry, Nia. You know I love our dinners together. I just have a meeting with a teacher that I’m really excited about, and I just… I’m sorry,” she said.
“That’s fine. I won’t hold it against you, but I will force you to make up for it by having dinner with me some other night when you’re not so distracted.” Nia replied.
“Deal. I’ve got about ten minutes before I have to leave, so tell me. Who is this boy, and why are you torturing him within an inch of his life?”
Nia grinned evilly. “Well, his name is Sam, and he’s in my year. His idea of a good time is setting off stink bombs in the common room.” Hermione scrunched her nose in disgust. “But if that was all, I probably would have left him alone, but then he started putting up these fliers that are just… ech.” Nia shuddered.
“What kind of fliers?”
Nia hesitated to answer. “Umm, well, they’re Death Eater fliers. They say all kinds of horrible things about No-Maj’s and No-Maj-borns. They talk about how wizards are superior and we need to take the world back and be the rulers. One of them was bad-mouthing the Order, and saying that they’re losing the war, and saying horrible things about the members. But what was worse than him posting that crap all over our common room was the fact that there were other kids who were actually reading them, and agreeing with them! When I found out who was posting them, I tried to ask him to stop, but he called me a ‘mudblood lover’ and laughed as he walked away. So I’ve been making his life a living hell.”
Hermione was stunned. For once in her life, she was completely speechless. She tried to respond, but nothing came out. Just then, the clock tower tolled the hour. “Oh, crap. I’m late! I’m so sorry. I have to go. Do me a favor. If you see any more of these fliers, bring them to me, ok? And if you need help torturing this kid, tell your brothers. They are pros at this sort of thing.”
Nia smiled. “Will do. I promise.” They stood up and hugged, and Hermione ran as fast as she could to Professor Kowalski’s office.
“Come in!” came the professor’s voice through the door just as Hermione lifted her hand to knock.
She opened the door. “How did you know I was there? Did you use Legilimency?”
The professor smiled her wide smile. “I didn’t need to, sweetie! You came barreling down the hall like a herd of elephants!”
Hermione laughed. “Sorry. I was having dinner with Nia Potter and lost track of time.”
“Ah, Nia. She is a sharp girl! Almost as sharp as you!”
Hermione laughed. “I don’t know, I think she might have me beat.”
“I suppose we’ll see, won’t we?” The professor said, smiling. “Now, let’s get down to business. You know what the Order of the Phoenix is, yes?”
Hermione’s head jerked back as though she’d been slapped. This was, perhaps, the last thing on earth she had expected to talk about tonight. “Uh, I mean, um, yeah. Yes, of course I do. I’m sorry, why are we talking about this?”
Professor Kowalski just smiled her signature smile. “I need to confess something. I’m a member of the Order.” Hermione felt like she’d been slapped again. “It’s a very long story, but suffice it to say, I have been given a very specific task. I was asked to find someone who had exceptional abilities with Occlumency and Legilimency and train them. You were by far the most promising. And I know that you support the Order’s cause. So you seemed the perfect candidate.”
Something didn’t add up. “Why would they be looking here? Why would they ask you? What can a random Ilvermorny student do for them that one of their own witches or wizards can’t?”
“I told him you would be too clever to buy that story,” the professor smiled.
“What? Who? Professor Kowalski, please explain what’s going on!”
“Have you ever heard of a man named Dumbledore?” asked the professor. When Hermione nodded, she continued. “He is a great man, and an extremely powerful wizard. I’ve known him for a very long time, and he’s known my brother-in-law since he was 11. If things had worked out differently, he probably would have been your headmaster at Hogwarts.” She sighed. “But as it is, he is now the leader of a rebel faction trying to protect England and the world from complete destruction at the hands of a madman. I don’t know all of the details, but when your family immigrated here, I received an owl telling me a little about you and that I should look out for you once you got here, to Ilvermorny. I didn’t think much of it until last week when I received another owl. Dumbledore said that there is some prophecy, and that I needed to test your Legilimency.
“I wrote back the other day and told him that you showed great promise. He was ecstatic. He’s asked me to train you in Occlumency, Legilimency, and Astral Projection. But sweetie, look at me.” Hermione had been staring into space, feeling as though her head were detached from her body. She looked back at her teacher. “Hermione, if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to. You have a choice. You are in America. You are safe. You do not need to join this war if you don’t want to. Don’t let anyone bully you into doing something or being something you don’t want.”
Hermione nodded in response as she considered. She was angry at this Dumbledore person. She didn’t even know him, and yet he felt free to manipulate her entire life from the time she was a baby. Sure, he was trying to win a war, but that didn’t give him the right to use people like Wizard’s Chess pieces. She should tell him to shove it. She should run away somewhere he would never find her and leave him to fight Voldemort on his own. But the truth was that Hermione wanted to help. She wanted to be the one to take that monster down, to prove to him and the whole world that the circumstances of your birth do not dictate who you are or what you can become. She thought about Fred, George, Percy, Bill, Charlie, Sirius, and Remus. She couldn’t just leave her friends to die in this war if she had any power at all to stop it.
“I’m in. What do we need to do?” She asked, her eyes flashing with determination.
An hour later, Hermione was starting to tire. They had worked on Occlumency first, and she had gotten to the point where she could track the professor’s movement within her mind. She still couldn’t keep her out, but she was getting stronger. Next they had learned the basics of Legilimency. This turned out to be much easier for Hermione than Occlumency. She had quickly been able to master overhearing her teacher’s surface thoughts. She had even been able to glimpse a memory in the professor’s mind of the day she’d met her husband. Hermione adored Mr. Kowalski. He was the head chef at Ilvermorny, and he made the most divine baked goods Hermione had ever tasted. She had met him in her first year, thanks to Ron and his incessant need for food. They had snuck into the kitchens hoping to convince the house elves to give them snacks. Hermione had been gobsmacked to find a No-Maj in charge of the kitchens. They had quickly struck up a friendship, and as a result, Hermione and her friends were frequently invited to the kitchens to help Mr. Kowalski test out new recipes. Being able to see him as a young man made Hermione’s heart happy.
“Thank you so much for showing me that memory! Your husband is one of my favorite people. Have I ever told you that? He’s always been so kind to me. And his pastries are to die for!’ Hermione said.
“Don’t I know it?” the professor laughed. “He is the best, most kind man I have ever known. I’m glad you had a chance to get to know him. And no, you haven’t told me that before, but he has. He feels the same way about you. You are the first student in many years to bother to get to know him, and the only one this school has ever had who cares as much about the house elves as he and Professor Scamander do.” They both chuckled at the thought of the eccentric Care Of Magical Creatures professor.
“Thank you, professor. That means a lot.” Hermione said humbly.
“How are you feeling, dear? Are you tired? This kind of work can be very difficult if you’re not used to it. We can stop now if you’d like.”
Hermione took stock of herself. She was tired, but also exhilarated. She couldn’t bear the thought of stopping now and having to wait until the following week to begin learning Astral Projection. She wanted to learn now. “No, I’d like to keep going. Unless you’re too tired. I don’t want to keep you too long.” Hermione said. The professor smiled in response.
“Alright then. Let’s begin. Close your eyes. Imagine you are in a large, open space, filled with nothing but potential. Relax all your muscles and breathe deeply.” Hermione leaned back in the comfortable chair, and did as she was told. “Now, empty your mind.” This was much harder for her to achieve. It took several minutes for her to achieve this gargantuan feat. “Alright now, sweetie. I want you to think of the one thing in this world you want to see more than anything else. It could be a person, it could be a place, it could even be a time. This first time, we’re just going to follow your heart, okay honey?” As Hermione floated in the mist of her mind, her mind slid of its own accord to the dream she’d had the other day. Until now the only thing she could remember was the shock of white blonde hair and the feeling of despair. But now, somehow, she could see the boy’s face clearly. She could see the hard angles of his cheeks, the narrow point of his nose, the anguish in his intense gray eyes. She wished he was real, and not a figment of her imagination. She wanted to tell him everything would be alright and find a way to make him smile. She wanted to hear his voice. Was it deep? She tried to think of real people and places she would like to see, but his face kept coming back to her. Don’t fight it, said the professor in her mind. Follow your heart. Hermione sighed deeply and allowed her heart to take the lead.
Slowly the mist of her mind began to fade, and around her stone walls began to appear. The next thing to appear were several large four poster beds, covered in dark green hangings. There was a large window at one end of the room, but she could see nothing but blackness out of it. She was confused. What was this place, and why was she here? She looked down at herself and was surprised to see that she was almost as translucent as a ghost. She tried touching the fabric on the bed nearest her, but her hand passed right through it. Suddenly, the occupant of the bed shifted, and the curtains covering the bed opened. Hermione’s mouth dropped open. It was him!
_________________________________________________________________________
Draco had been tossing and turning for an hour. Now he lay staring at the roof of his four poster, thinking about her. Finally he decided that he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to try to see her again. He sat up and pushed the curtain aside, putting his feet on the ground and rubbing his face. He opened his eyes, and jumped about a foot. She was standing in his room, looking just as surprised to see him as he was her. As he looked, he realized that he could see the window through her, and his heart sank. She’s a ghost? She’s dead? He thought, his heart breaking.
“Who- who are you? What is this place?” She said in her strange accent, sounding alarmed. Draco heard muttering and shifting from the other beds and his wits returned. He held a finger to his lips and then threw a sweater over his bare chest. He motioned for her to follow him, and he walked toward the common room. Draco checked to make sure the coast was clear, but it was after 1:00 in the morning, and everyone was in bed. Still, he felt too exposed. Anyone could come in and interrupt them. He led her to a small room off to the right that was usually used for study groups. He closed the door and turned to look at her. He couldn’t believe she was here. And dead.
“Mynee?” He asked. She gasped.
“How do you know that name?” She demanded.
“Is that not your name?” He asked.
“Well, yes. No. Sort of. My name is Hermione. Only my close friends call me Mione. Now explain. How did you know my name?” The question came out harsh, but she seemed more afraid and confused than anything. Draco wasn’t sure how to begin.
“Well, I saw you.. I watched you… there was a magic mirror, you see, and it showed you to me. I saw you talking to a house elf. She called you Mione.” Hermione’s face calmed a bit at this information, though she still seemed confused. Draco supposed it must be confusing to be dead.
“Where are we?” The ghost of Hermione demanded.
“We’re at my school, Slytherin,” he replied. Hermione gasped.
“We’re at Hogwarts?” She had suddenly gone from confused to excited.
“Well…” said Draco, “You see… Sort of? It used to be called Hogwarts, back before the Dark Lord took over. He renamed it Slytherin after-”
“After Salazar Slytherin, founder of Slytherin house and his distant ancestor.” She finished for him. He gaped at her.
“Erm, yeah. How did you know that?” he asked.
“I read a lot. I also have friends here who send us word when they learn things,” she said vaguely.
“You mean had,” he said gently. “You do know you’re dead, right?”
Hermione stared at him a moment, and then began laughing. He didn’t understand what she could possibly find funny about this situation. He watched her, pityingly, as she tried to pull herself together.
“I’m sorry,” she said, still laughing. “I don’t mean to laugh at you, but being told you’re a ghost by a figment of your imagination is just too much for me right now.”
Draco scowled. What was she on about?
“I am not a ghost,” said Hermione. “I was trying to learn how to Astral Project, but I couldn’t stop thinking about this dream that I had, so I must have somehow put myself back in that dream. I didn’t even know it was possible to Astral Project into a dream. How have I never read about this before? This is so cool. Am I the first person to figure out how to do this? It’s so realistic! I’ve imagined what Hogwarts would look like my whole life, but I’ve never come close to this kind of detail. It’s amazing!”
Now it was Draco’s turn to be confused. “What are you on about? This is not a dream. Trust me. I live here. The closest thing to a dream this place could be is a bloody nightmare. I know this is hard to accept, but you are dead.” He swiped his hand through her incorporeal body. “See? You don’t have a body.”
“No duh, brainiac. I’m in my astral form! Look at me closely. Do you see the color of my shirt, of my hair?”
“Yes, of course I- Oh! You’re in color! I’ve never seen a ghost have color before. How strange. Wait, so, you’re not dead?” he said in relief.
“Of course I’m not dead! Sheesh. My subconscious is really dense.”
Draco’s relief made him bold. “Hermione. Look at me.” She did. “This is not a dream. My name is Draco Malfoy. I am a real person. I really attend Slytherin School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My parents are real Death Eaters. You can ask your friends. If they know anything about what’s going on here in Britain, they’ll know our names. Hermione. I’m real.”
Hermione blanched and backed away from him. He reached out for her. She pulled away quickly even though he wouldn’t have been able to touch her anyway.
“Stay away from me, you monster!” She shouted. Draco felt as though he’d been doused with icy cold water. Monster. He’d thought the same thing about himself, but hearing it from her felt like a dagger in his heart. “Why would my subconscious do this to me? Create the child of the monsters who tried to murder me as a baby? Who have murdered thousands of muggle-borns like me? Argh! Professor Kowalski! Get me out of here!” she screamed. Draco stared at her dumbfounded.
She was a muggle-born? How could this be? He should be repulsed by her. His parents always told him that muggleborn women were filthy and disgusting, that they were repulsive. He shook his head. One more piece of bullshit to add to the steaming pile of lies he had been sold since infancy. His parents had tried to kill her? As a baby? He knew they had killed countless muggle-born witches and wizards, but he would never have thought them capable of killing babies. It was amazing how little you could know about a person you once spent every waking moment with.
She was still there, pacing back and forth with her head in her hands, frantically trying to figure out how to get herself out of this place. Draco moved and stood in her way. She didn’t see, and walked right through him. He turned around.
“Hermione,” he said as gently as possible. “Please stop. Just look at me. Please?” he pleaded. Slowly she lifted her head and looked at him, fear in her eyes. “Hermione. I promise you, even if I could touch you, I would be no threat to you. Yes, my parents are monsters. I’ve always known that to some degree, and it seems I have even more to learn about them than I thought. I am truly sorry for what they did to you, and I’m immensely glad they were not successful. You have absolutely nothing to fear from me. I would never hurt you. You must believe me. I am not a figment of your imagination. This is not a dream. This is real. I am real. Do you believe me?”
She stared into his eyes for several moments, clearly trying to think things through. “I honestly don’t know. I don’t-” She cocked her head and her eyes unfocused as if she were listening to something. “Ok, professor. I’ll try,” she said. She looked into Draco’s eyes for a few more moments, and then closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and disappeared.