Corridors and Crunching Leaves
The young witch scaled down the steep hillside to Hagrid’s hut, comforted by the soft crunch of fallen autumn leaves beneath her trainers. Autumn time was her favourite. It reminded her of the annual trip that she and her parents would take to a local pumpkin farm. They had picked pumpkins from the patch, drank tea from a thermos that Mrs. Granger had packed away in a small basket, and sampled some autumnal treats before the slow drive home along countryside roads lulled Hermione to a comfortable sleep. The young witch looked up at the sky to gauge the weather. Clouds billowed, various hues of grey, and blanketed the sky. Perhaps it might rain later, Hermione thought with a shrug. I should make sure I leave Hagrid’s early then. She tucked her chin down a little further into her peacoat and made sure her Gryffindor scarf covered her chin ever so slightly. The breeze was soft but cold, a promise that winter was just around the corner. Yesterday had been Halloween, and in a matter of mere weeks, the fallen leaves would be covered by thick snowfall that would stay on the ground from now until April and most students wouldn’t venture outside of the warmth of Hogwart’s castle walls save for the exceptions of Hogsmeade visits and going home from the holidays. Hermione was excited for Hogsmeade visits this year. Last year’s visits had been highly anticipated as it had been the first year that she, Harry and Ron had aged up and been allowed to go - well, Harry had snuck his way through, disobeying the rules with his dad’s Invisibility cloak. Still, she had loved exploring the different shops, especially Honeydukes. Her parents, dentists both, had allowed her to have sweets as a special treat, but she had never indulged the way some other children did out of fear of cavities and other dental horror stories. Stepping into Honeydukes had been a childhood dream come to life, like how she imagined Charlie Bucket must have felt stepping into Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.
She reached the bottom of the hillside and traipsed quickly to Hagrid’s front steps. On the half-giant’s front landing, she hopped from side to side for a moment to warm her feet in her trainers and rubbed her hands together to generate more heat than her thin mittens provided She knocked on the door and as she waited for someone to answer, she rubbed her hands together to generate more heat than her mittens provided. THe muffled bark of Fang, Hagrid’s bloodhound, came from inside and she could hear heavy footfalls of the half-giant as he crossed through his hut towards the front door. A voice growled in annoyance.
“Shuddup, Fang, no one is scared of ye.” And then the door opened. Hermione grinned up at the face of her friend and gave him a little wave. The half-giant was pleasantly surprised to see her. “Why ‘ello, Hermione! I didn’ expect you to be comin’ all the way down here on a day like today. A bit blustery outside,” Hagrid said in welcome. He greeted her with a gentle hug and upon her release, he stepped back to allow her entry into his home.
She stepped past the threshold and scraped her trainers along the jute rug. Her coat was sloughed off and she hung it up on a nearby wall rack. “Is now a good time, Hagrid?” she asked, her eyes looked around the hut to see if she was interrupting anything. No one else seemed to be visiting. The half-giant clapped his hands once together and closed the door behind her. He chattered away the entire time, oblivious to Hermione moving to sit on his couch, and filled a teapot with water in his hut’s tiny kitchen, placing it on his metal stove.
“Oh, I expect now’s a good time,” the half-giant was saying. “I’m not expecting anyone else today and I’ve already wrapped up my radishes in insulation and burlap so they should be alright for the rest of autumn and winter time. Finicky year I’ve had with these radishes though, they grew late and then we had that early frost last week. Not to mention there are rabbits that are tryin’ to eat them and goodness know what else. I saw some rather large marks on my carrot leaves the other day and I thought that it was odd. Have you -”
He was cut off by Hermione’s giggle as Fang groaned in approval from the scratches she placed behind his drooped right ear. Hagrid turned around to see his large beast had pivoted around so that he could put his great head on her lap. Hermione continued to scratch behind Fang’s ears as Hagrid cleared his throat.
“Sorry, Hagrid, I didn’t mean to stop you. He’s just so sweet sometimes,” she said in explanation. The half-giant chuckled and ran a hand along his beard. Fang huffed and rolled over onto his back, head still on her lap.
“Well, all’s for the best, I was meandering on anyway,” he said in passing. “So what brings you down here, Hermione? No Harry and Ron? I didn’t see them stragglin’ down the hill behind ye.”
Hermione sighed and looked up into Hagrid’s kind face. “No, the boys aren’t talking to each other at the moment. You know that Harry was chosen yesterday as a fourth champion. Ron thinks Harry cheated and could have put both of their names in. Harry swears he didn’t do it and is trying to find a way out of it. I don’t understand, Dumbledore enchanted the age line himself… Anyway, you should have seen the tension in the Common Room last night, Hagrid. It was awful. If looks could kill, I think they both would be dead.”
She stretched her legs and Fang got up from her lap and hopped off the couch down to the floor. Hermione continued.
“So because they’re not speaking, Ron is hanging around with Seamus and Dean today, I expect, and then Harry is most likely talking to Dumbledore or someone about the Triwizard Cup. Maybe Mr. Crouch, I heard he stayed overnight in Hogsmeade. I’m all caught up on my Potions assignment and I’ve already submitted two Charms essays so I figured I would come pay you a visit and ask how you are.”
Hagrid, who had been fully enthralled in Hermione’s retelling, clucked his tongue and shook his head in disbelief.
“I sure hope those two straighten it out, they’re best of friends. It’s not right when something splits them up. And Harry, puttin’ his name in the Goblet? Codswallop, in my opinion. All that boy needs is a regular school year, no You-Know-Who, no Azkaban prisoners, none of that nonsense. Just school.” Hermione silently agreed. Hagrid poured her some tea into a teacup the size of a salad bowl and Hermione carefully maneuvered it onto Hagrid’s table. She watched the half-giant add some logs to the fire and then he came to sit in his oversized, patched together armchair. He took a sip of his own tea and then sighed, content. His eyes, barely visible from beneath his bushy brows, darted to her and softened. He had always cared for Harry, Ron and Hermione the most out of all the children he had seen come and go throughout Hogwart’s history and in small moments like this, it showed.
“I’m alrigh, Hermione, ye never have to worry about me. Although, I must say,” Here, Hagrid patted his left leg with a large hand. “The dampness of the air setting in some days has my knee hurtin’ something fierce. You wouldn’ happen to know anything for that, would ye?”
Hermione and Hagrid spent the next hour or so catching up on how Hermione’s first part of the semester was going and Hermione encouraging Hagrid to switch between ice and heat for his knee. He asked a few extra questions about Madame Maxime, the Beauxbatons Headmistress, and if Hermione had seen her around the castle. Perhaps he had a crush. Good for Hagrid, she supposed with a smile. He needs somebody. I don’t like to think of him out here alone. Nighttime fell quickly, and Hagrid ended up feeding Hermione some supper at his home instead of her journeying back to the Great Hall. Hagrid’s clock chimed half past 10, Hermione was startled. She was out past curfew when she wasn’t supposed to be. She rarely did things like this. When she peeked out the window to look up at the castle, the grounds and sky were pitch black. Bloody hell, I’m going to be walking up like I’m blind, she muttered. Her wand light with an illuminating spell wasn’t going to do much in this kind of darkness. On top of that, it had started to rain lightly and the ground was turning slick.
“Best be off with you,” Hagrid urged. He grabbed Hermione’s coat for her and helped her into it. “But take this so that you don’t get in trouble. We could say you were going over Care of Magical Creatures lessons, that I asked you to come down.” Hermione took the offered tattered piece of parchment and stuffed it into her pocket.
“Thanks, Hagrid.” She gave him a hug goodbye and after illuminating her wand with Lumos, she set off into the night and started making her precarious way back up the hills of the grounds, cursing mildly under her breath. The wind had grown stronger and colder and she tucked her nose further down into her scarf to keep out the chill. She needed to remember to grab her matching knitted hat out of her trunk for tomorrow if it was going to be this cold for a few days. On the way up, she stumbled over rocks and gullies and was quite put out by the time she reached the stone slabs at the top of the grounds. Wet from the rain and damp from the chill, she was more than ready to collapse into her bed. Now she just had to get up to Gryffindor Tower without being seen by a Prefect, Head Boy or Head Girl or a Professor. McGonagall might let her get away with the note from Hagrid, but not Snape. Definitely not Professor Snape.
She had just reached the tip-top of the steep hillside when her sneakers lost their grip amongst the mud and the leaves. This caused her to fall backward and the witch dropped her wand. The tip lost its light. Hermione was cast into darkness as she fell and she expected to hit the ground with a resounding squish. But to her equal surprise and fright, she was caught in the dark by a pair of strong hands underneath her arms. She shrieked in surprise and jumped out of her saviour’s grip. Facing away from whomever had saved her, her cheeks burned red from embarrassment and the slap of the wind outside. I don’t want to get caught, I’m already late getting in!
The rain pelted down steadily as she ducked into the clock tower corridor without so much as a look at her saviour and heard as his footsteps started to echo on the stone floor behind her.
“You’re not even going to say thank you for saving you from an untimely death? Surely you’re better than that,” the male teased. “I almost broke my neck out there, risking my life to save yours.” There was something familiar in the way he goaded her and Hermione felt her curiosity grow. At long last, she stopped walking and turned around. She faced none other than Fred Weasley, one of Ron’s many older brothers. He was a sixth year Gryffindor and this year, like so many other boys at the school, he had decided to transition to a shaggy, longer hairstyle that fell past his ears. His red hair was bright under the candlelight from some of the sconces that had started to appear along the corridor walls. He ran a hand through his wet hair and then wiped it down his face to rid himself of some of the wetness of the rain.
“You?” she said in a quick breath. Her eyes scanned the form of him, tall and broad, muscled from Quidditch. Athletic but not brawny. So different from Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian student and Quidditch player that had been chosen last night as one of the Triwizard Champions. They had made eye contact the other night when he had placed his name in and Hermione had felt her heart flutter. She hadn’t really been attracted to boys much, too busy with school to really pay them any mind. But she supposed Fred was fit - for being Fred, that is.
“Yes, me. Hi,” the older Weasley returned in greeting.. A small smile on his lips. That smile turned into a smirk when they made eye contact. “I believe the words you are looking for are “Thank you for saving my life, Fred Weasley. I am in your debt forever.” But no rush on that, you don’t need to say those exact words.” Hermione giggled.
“Yes, oh gracious Majesty, I’m so humbled you chose to save me,” she joked back and she even gave Fred a small curtsy before giving him another once over. Earlier in the month, the twins had made an aging potion to try and put their names in the Goblet of Fire. It had backfired and caused them to both end up turning into old men with skin that sagged and wrinkled flesh, long beards and arched backs. Fred and George had grappled with each other on the floor like children, angry at each other for the faults their potion had caused. However, as he did not have a beard now, she could only assume that someone had helped them fix it. “How did you like being grizzled and grey?” she teased with a small smirk. “The potion didn’t work out exactly like you thought, did it?”
Fred chortled and ran a hand through his wet hair again. “Pomfrey gave us this potion and the hair kind of receded back into our skin. That sensation combined with our skin retightening after regaining elasticity - such an odd feeling. It gave me goosebumps, if I’m honest. McGonagall was right angry though, she took 30 points away from each of us.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and then started to walk along the corridor again. The younger witch started off after him. His gait was much longer than hers due to their height difference and he noticed, changing to smaller strides so that they could walk side-by-side.
The sounds of their footsteps echoed off the corridor walls as they carried along. They passed under the clock tower and continued through to the quad. Dried leaves piled upon the stone benches and swirled across the cobblestoned ground in the wind and rain. Hermione shivered and ducked down further into her scarf. Fred noticed and raised a brow. “Bloody hell, where did this come from, eh?” he asked, referring to the change in weather the past few weeks. At the beginning of October, they had been walking around outside with tees on, maybe a light jumper. Hermione nodded a few times to agree with Fred’s unsaid statement. She did not like the damp and the cold, it seemed to seep into her body all the way through to her bones.
They entered the main part of the castle on the right and carried through to the Grand Staircase. Some of the portraits said kind greetings, others chastised them for being out past curfew, some slept. As they climbed the steps, Hermione noticed that the hem of Fred’s coat had patches of mud splatter - perhaps from a prank? Had he almost fallen out there? Maybe it was from when he caught her. Come to think of it, she couldn’t imagine any reason he would have had to be walking around the grounds as late as he had been. Unless… If he was meeting up with a girl in secret, she reckoned that made sense. After all, Hermione had started hearing rumours about the older Weasley brothers; charming and kind, both Fred and George were setting reputations for themselves in terms of being great dates. The young witch hadn’t listened for anything that passed a boundary she shouldn’t cross - she didn’t care who snogged which twin and how good they were at it. But maybe this was Fred’s reason for being out and about - and without George. They continued to climb the stairs and Hermione removed her scarf from around her neck with a soft tug. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed that Fred watched her... or was it out of her imagination? No, he was definitely looking. She swallowed softly, a little uncomfortable at his gaze and to her surprise, he sucked in a breath. They both cleared their throats at the same time and looked away from each other. As they continued to climb the stairs, Hermione decided to redirect the subject. “Serves you right, taking away the House points, I mean. I told you it wasn’t going to work but did you listen? No. I told you that it was dim-witted, did you listen? No! I told you - ”
Fred stopped climbing the stairs and Hermione stopped a few steps up, on the staircase landing. She turned to face him. From the difference in the steps, they were the same height. Their eyes met again. Fred ran a hand through his shaggy mop of red hair and seemed at war with deciding what he was about to say. His eyes left her gaze and drifted down to the steps. Hermione rested a hand on the railing of the staircase and waited patiently for him to find his words. After a few more moments, he still hadn’t said anything and Hermione relaxed her stance a little more to go from resting her hand on the railing to leaning her whole body against it, pressing her back against the carved stone. Her hands met in front of her, rested clasped together on the top of her thighs. She raised an eyebrow.
“Fred?”
Her gentle prompt seemed to break him out of whatever he was thinking and his chest puffed up a little. He stopped looking at the details on the staircase steps and met her eyes for a third time. “I get it, Hermione,” he said at last. “Okay? I get it. George and I did a stupid thing and got stupid results, you must think we are really daft for doing things like this all the time. For Merlin’s sake, you don’t approve of our pranks, you don’t approve of us not following the rules, you hated when we gave Harry the Map so that he could go to Hogsmeade…”
Hermione held up a hand to stop him. “Enough,” she said softly. “I don’t think you’re daft, Fred. I think it was an impressive bit of potion making. An aging potion is difficult, even for sixth years like you and George. Very advanced. I think it was just Dumbledore’s age line that pushed it to go faulty. You still managed to create it and ingest it without extreme side effects - and you didn’t blow up. That is a key thing. Or lose memory or teeth or anything that comes with aging. All in all, it was a pretty well-executed potion.”
Fred looked at her, almost confused at what she said. “Sorry, you’re congratulating me?” he asked. Hermione nodded and gave him a small smile.
“I’m sorry I told you that it wasn’t going to work,” she added. “That was spiteful of me.”
The redheaded wizard shrugged. Another set of stairs connected to the landing Hermione was on and they started to ascend the stairs again. “You’re so smart, Granger,” he said with a small chuckle. “Really - you’re probably more clever than my entire family put together. I figured you almost always know what you’re talking about. I wouldn’t say what you said was spiteful, you were just…” Here, he looked for the right words. “You were just stating what we all knew - that Dumbledore is a bloody genius. And we were idiots for thinking we could alter that.”
They reached Gryffindor Tower without being spotted, to their amazing luck. However, when they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and said the password, the painted woman shook her head and glared at them past the slope of her nose.
“And why are you two out so late?” the painting demanded. “Why are you two not in uniform? Arriving at my portrait at a quarter to eleven, I would never-”
Hermione cut off the portrait by snapping the password. “Thestral tail,” she all but hissed. “That’s our password, now be quick about it!” She looked around for signs of anyone else in the corridor. “Please, Fat Lady, let us in!”
The Fat Lady continued on like she hadn’t heard Hermione at all. Indeed, she probably hadn’t. “And where exactly have you been? Both wet, both covered in rain and muck and mire… how… passionately primitive.” There was a glint in her eye, almost wicked. At the same moment, Fred and Hermione understood what the portrait was implying.
Hermione shook her head. “No, no, that’s not what we were - we weren’t together, you see and I was, well, visiting and then -”
Fred spoke at the same time. “Oh, come off it, Fat Lady, please let us in! Can’t you see that we’re both soaked and tired and just need to go to bed? Thestral tail, let’s have a move on!”
“I sure hope you two used a contraceptive charm,” the Fat Lady continued as she examined her painted nails. “Although why you would want to consummate your passion amongst rain and mud outside is beyond me…” Another portrait figure entered the Fat Lady’s portrait and whispered into her ear. Hermione recognized the figure from the painting in the corridor that led from the Quad to the Great Hall. The Fat Lady grinned like a Cheshire Cat.
“Professor Snape and Filch are doing rounds tonight,” she said with a smile. “I just wonder what they would say at you both being out of bed.”
Sounds of footsteps from around the corner made both Gryffindors jump. Fred and Hermione spotted people’s shadows walking along the next corridor over, projected on the corridor walls from the sconce firelight. Fred cursed under his breath and Hermione bit her lower lip and let out a small squeak. She turned back to the portrait.
“Fat Lady, for the love of Merlin, please let us in! Thestral tail!” she begged, now in a panicked whisper. The Fat Lady’s eyes darted down the hall and seemed to spot the coming individuals as well. She swung open and Hermione clambered through the portrait hole. She turned to help Fred through only to see the portrait close behind her. Hermione turned and pushed on the back of the canvas but it wouldn’t budge. “Fred, what are you doing?” she hissed in a panicked whisper. “Fred, are you alright?”
“Shhh!” Fred’s hurried whisper came back to her. “Shuddup, Hermione.”
“Well, well, well,” a different voice came, slightly muffled through the portrait canvas. “Fred Weasley, out past curfew… again. How disappointing.” Hermione cursed inwardly. It’s Snape. Hermione pressed her ear to the canvas to get a better sound. She heard Fred sigh and could only assume he was holding up his hands in surrender.
“I know I’m out past my curfew, Professor,” the older Weasley began. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a walk and you can see, I ended up getting caught in the rain.” Hermione imagined him gesturing to the mud on his coat and boots. “I was just trying to get in the Common Room but the Fat Lady wouldn’t let me in.”
“While I pity your lack of slumber, Mr. Weasley, it does not excuse you for leaving your room,” Snape drawled. His voice was clear and sharp as ever and it made Hermione’s skin prickle. “Just in two weeks, you have managed to deduct 30 points from your House just for your own actions and another 30 for your brother’s. Soon, you’ll be back to 0 at this rate, and you’re not even two months into the semester. How disappointing.”
Fred sighed deeply and Hermione pictured him running a hand through his wet hair again. She found herself wondering about rain drops as they trickled down his forehead, his cheek and off of his lip and her breath hitched. Wait… what? No! She snapped herself out of the thought and focused on listening in once more.
“Sir, I understand if you have to deduct points but I really would just like to be going to bed. If you looked the other way, just this once, I promise you, I will do detention with you every Saturday up until Christmas,” Fred volunteered. “I don’t want to lose any more points for my house right now.”
Hermione was shocked that Fred would give himself up so easily. Maybe he really was tired of fighting - at least, for today. She heard nothing for awhile and then, at long last, Snape spoke.
“You’re lucky I’m not removing you from the Quidditch team,” the professor snarled. “And the season has barely started - what a pity indeed.” There was silence again and Fred’s breath caught. He loved Quidditch. Taking that away would be like taking away a part of him. Snape spoke again. “And what exactly were you doing out past curfew, Mr. Weasley, the real reason now, if you please.”
Fred cleared his throat. “I couldn’t sleep, sir, I told you. I had to go for a walk.”
“Lies,” Snape growled. “There have been students trying to go out on the Black Lake to get to the Durmstrang boat. Is that why you’re all wet? Did you go for a swim?”
“No, sir, like I told you, I went for a walk to clear my head and it started to rain outside,” Fred said flatly.
After a pause, Hermione heard Snape sigh. “I’m too tired tonight to play your game, Mr. Weasley. Really, I am not in the mood. Therefore, you will not be in detention every Saturday, but you do need to brush up on how to make the Draught of Despair. Let’s say five Saturdays and two Wednesday nights of tutoring. I’m in a good mood.” Hermione heard Fred let out a breath of air and could hear him shuffle as he turned around to face the Fat Lady’s portrait again. Fred opened his mouth to say the password again, but Snape cleared his throat. Fred stopped and Hermione froze in place from the other side of the portrait hole.
“One more thing,” the dark professor added. “You best tell Miss Granger that she is safe for now for making it through that portrait hole before I crossed over here.”
“I don’t know what you mean, sir,” Fred replied after a moment. Snape chuckled, the sound dark and cold.
“I don’t appreciate you lying, Weasley. Especially after I have given you grace tonight by not taking away the only remaining House points Gryffindor has left. Or your spot on the Quidditch team. But I know I saw Miss Granger. And you can let her know that the next time either of you are out late, I won’t be so kind. Is that understood?”
Hermione heard Fred say goodnight to Snape and then the portrait hole swung open. Hermione moved back so that Fred could crawl through and when he was standing inside the Common Room, she gave him another small smile.
“Thanks for having my back,” Hermione said after a moment. “I’m sorry you’re stuck with him now though, Snape’s rotten luck.”
“I’d rather him than Moody. The old codger’s eye really freaks me out,” Fred said with a small snort. He started past her to go up to the boys’ dormitories but Hermione put a hand on his right arm to stop him. She clutched the fabric of his coat softly.
“Fred, if you’re really having bad dreams, we will find a way for you to let me know. I’d rather stay up at night and talk with you than have you be worried enough to wander the grounds and get in trouble. So promise me that you’ll tell me?”
This offer truly shocked Fred. He hadn’t expected Hermione to be so genuine about her concerns for him. He nodded quickly. “Yeah, sure, Granger. Alright.” He gave her another smirk. Then his eyes darted to her face. With a deliberately slow pace, he reached out a finger and brushed some stray raindrops off of Hermione’s cheek. “Do me a favour and don’t go out in the rain like that anymore, yeah? At least not without someone to catch you. I don’t trust you out there, you’re too clumsy.”
Hermione swatted his hand away but laughed. “Yeah, sure, Fred. Alright,” she agreed, repeating his words back to him. Fred nodded once and then went up the stairs to the dormitories, yawning as he went. Hermione followed suit, hung up her wet things along her bed frame, casted a drying spell that would work overnight and made sure the fire was still going in the middle of the dormitory to keep her, Parvati and Lavender warm. She then turned down her bed, changed into her pyjamas and got in amongst her sheets. Her sleep was restful but full of dreams of a red-headed wizard who had suddenly seemed to see her as more than just his little brother’s friend. And what would that mean for her? She couldn’t wait to find out.