Summary:
Previously. . . Hadrian answers riddles in the train and has an interesting conversation with Draco Malfoy. The sorting ceremony begins and Hadrian id fascinated by the muggleborns of slytherin.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
CHAPTER 12:
"Ron… Ron?... RONALD WAKE UP!"
Hermione harshly patted Ron's delicately sleeping face. The other boys were already up and groggily getting out of bed. They lazily greeted Hermione —who has broken into their dorms before— and minded their own business. Poor Ron was the subject of the witch's wrath as she continued to harshly pat his face.
Ron groaned, rubbing his poor reddened cheek from all the patting , glaring at Hermione.
She merely scoffed, pressing her hands against her hips and glaring at him. Hermione huffed, kicking at Ron's bed so the boy would finally wake. Her eyes trailed towards the bed near the window, grimacing as she couldn't find any sign of Harry. She grew worried, not caring that Ron was still gathering himself.
"Where's Harry?"
"He's right— Oi… where's Harry?"
"I'm the one asking you that you prat? You're the one who's been here the entire night." She huffed, impatiently tapping her foot against the floor.
"How—How should I have known? I was bloody well asleep!"
Harry had become rather odd lately. He was more reserved, more silent, and smiled too much. Hermione didn't like it one bit. Harry had been meek, paranoid, and even refused to trust them when they had first met. He didn't throw away the prospect of friendship, but he was most certainly cautious of it. Hermione only found out why he had a hard time trusting people when Ron dragged her away one day in their second year.
She had scolded them, told them that expulsion was not an option. How could she not have been angry? The two idiots had gone and flew a car from London to Scotland for Merlin's sake. She has been scared, scared that Harry and Ron would be expelled, scared that she would be left alone with no friends.
That day, it had been the second of September. Right before they entered the Great Hall, right before the howler came, Ron had dragged Hermione away from the crowd while they waited for Harry. He told her of the bars on Harry's window.
They kept him prisoner! There were dozens of locks on his door and I still don't understand how Fred and George picked them. Ron had said with such distress, His trunk, his books, even his wand were locked in the bloody cupboard! Poor Hedwig wasn't allowed to fly all summer.
Oh how she felt awful when she heard that. When she had first seen Harry in Diagon Alley, she noticed how thin he was. He was guarded, hiding away his anger as he smiled at them. Harry had looked so tired and frustrated, especially with Lockhart dragging him to the spotlight. Harry never liked the attention… he wanted to sink into the shadows and live his life peacefully.
Hermione had seen the signs after that. She had seen the bruises in Harry's body that he hid no matter what. He saw the way he flinched, the way he had grabbed his plate in their first year to clean it. It wasn't much, she thought it was because of chores. But it wasn't.
Harry was scared, frightened. He never looked anyone in the eye, he barely kept their friendship if not for Ron taking charge and mothering them both. Harry was a victim of what Hermione knew as Domestic Abuse.
She felt some kind of kinship with him.
Hermione assessed herself after seeing the signs. She wasn't like Harry, not really. Her parents never harmed her, they never starved her, never laid a hand on her. But they weren't there. Her parents had been… absent. They'd been absent most of her life, either with their jobs or because she was such a nuisance. Hermione was an odd child—she blamed her magic for that. She was overbearing, she could admit that.
But she had been a friendless child with parents who didn't want to pay her any attention. She had thought Harry's life would be the opposite. She thought that because of the books she's read, he would be a flawless boy with confidence and a life to envy. But he wasn't!
Harry was like Hermione, but at least she had her parents… even if they ignored her.
The only reasons why she could buy books and study in Hogwarts was because of the fear her parents may have already felt. They were scared of her… she was never really sure, but her mother had always avoided her eyes. Her father looked unsure and confused whenever he looked at her, the negative attention only started when Professor McGonagall came to their house.
Hermione is a witch. She has magic and would surely be a wonderful witch. Professor McGonagall had said to her parents with utter confidence.
Hermione had rejoiced. She told herself that she wasn't weird, she was just in the wrong world. But then she came to Hogwarts. Even when she discovered magic, she was treated differently. She didn't like that. Ron had been mean to her at first, but Harry had looked at her with eyes devoid of emotion.
It wasn't that his gaze was careful or interested, it was just he didn't care. He looked at everyone the same, and Hermione relished in it. Harry treated people the same, no matter race or gender. He had this uncaring—apathetic look in his eyes when they were in their first year and would only light up at the prospect of magic. People simply have nothing to care about for him.
Then they became friends. Hermione became one of the people actually cared about and treated differently… in a positive way that made Hermione feel warm.
"Ron, I swear, if we do not find him before breakfast I will hex you." She crossed her arms and glared at him.
"I, what?" Ron frowned for a second before shooting up to his feet. "Not again! I'll go ask the twins if they've seen him. He better not skip breakfast like last time!"
"Like usual, you mean?"
"That sounds even worse."
Hermione giggled as she watched Ron scramble to the bathroom. She hummed in satisfaction, walking out of the dormitory with the determination of a lioness. She was going to find Harry and he would sit with them for breakfast and eat. She had made a vow since the day she came to the conclusion of Harry's suffering—she would take care of him and no one was going to stop her.
"Oh my god! Ginny I'm so sorry!" She yelled as she stared wide eyed at poor Ginny Weasley who she bumped into. The redhead had given up in life and laid on the floor waiting for her death.
Her footsteps were light against the stone floors of the castle. Some students were already walking towards the great hall, clearly tired, but determined enough to keep themselves awake. To her dismay, none of them were Harry. She could vividly remember in her first year when she and Harry were in the early phases of their friendship.
Harry was reserved, quiet, and didn't particularly like publicizing his home life. She only understood why in their second year. Regardless, she remembered how Harry would try his best not to scowl and sneer at someone who he found unsightly. Sometimes it was Malfoy, sometimes it was a random student who rudely intruded in his personal space.
She could see such a scrutinizing and frustrated gaze become more intense when people condemned him for his talent of parseltongue. Hermione hadn't been too scared, she had been curious and fascinated when Harry spoke to snakes. She rarely saw it, but sometimes she could see that Harry was more interested in speaking to literal snakes than to the snakes known as gossiping students who didn't know when to keep out of others' businesses.
She sighed, rubbing the side of her hair as she took a sharp turn. Breakfast had started 10 minutes ago and would end in 40 minutes. She worried that Harry would skip breakfast again, but she knew Ron would have already stashed a sandwich or two in paper towels to give Harry.
They'd gotten used to such a routine. Harry forgot meals on numerous occasions, Hermione didn't like to think of why, and she would go looking for him while Ron prepared some food just in case Harry did miss meals.
She had been absorbed in her thoughts, not noticing the girl she bumped into as she made a turn. She staggered back, hearing the sounds of parchment and books falling. Eyes wide, she saw a girl in blue robes on the floor.
"Oh goodness! I am so sorry." Hermione profusely apologized, quickly picking up the books, parchment, and quills.
The other girl merely smiled, and Hermione recognized her soon after that. It was the girl Ron had mentioned, the one Ginny was friends with.
"It's alright. Everyone makes mistakes and it isn't your fault. I should have been more careful."
Goodness, Hermione gulped as she heard the girl's voice. It was melodious, calm, and she could say it was the definition of serene. Luna? Her name is Luna right? Something to do with the moon…
Hermione clumsily bunched the parchment in her arms as the Ravenclaw chuckled. The girl took out her wand and had her belongings float into her bag. Hermione couldn't lie, she had turned as red as their common rooms when she forgot about using magic. Stupid muggle habits. Stupid, stupid!
"Luna Lovegood. Ravenclaw third year." The girl, Luna, smiled as she introduced herself. Hermione hesitantly took her hand, shaking it as the blonde girl smiled.
"It seems you are looking for someone. Might I ask who?"
"Hm? Oh! Yes, have you seen Harry? Harry Potter." She specified. Hermione was sure that there were twelve other Harrys in Hogwarts. There were three other Harrys in Gryffindor.
"Oh… have you tried the library? Or perhaps the seventh floor." Luna suggested, her smile not faltering.
Hermione, however, was a bit confused with the second suggestion. She had checked the library, it was the first place she looked and Harry hadn't been there. Although she didn't check the seventh floor. With a small nod, she thanked Luna and went on her way.
Loony… no! Bad Hermione! She's quirky and unique! Not loony. Don't be a bully. Don't be like… Hermione pursed her lips as she scolded herself. She never planned on being a bully. Not in this life and not in the next.
She had been exhausted the moment she stepped foot on the seventh floor. Groaning, she summoned the remaining bits of her determination and searched. Not for long, that is.
Harry had been a prat, a cruel, cruel, friend to suddenly appear before her. He looked perfect , Hermione noticed with a scowl. While she, the ever so wonderful person and great friend she is, looked like a mess. Not the pretty and hot kind. Hermione's hair was as bad as Harry's bed head and her robes were already wrinkles beyond repair. Maybe she was exaggerating it, but Harry looked perfect in comparison!
"You! Awful! Prat!" Hermione said every word in between harsh pats to Harry's shoulder.
"Ow! 'mione, you don't have to do that!"
"Where have you been?"
Hermione cringed at how similar she sounded to Mrs. Weasley. She had no issue with the woman… aside from how overbearing she was. Mrs. Weasley was what the muggles called a helicopter parent. Well, that was what she understood from what she's seen and heard.
"How hurtful… have you no faith?" Harry said in a playful tone.
It made Hermione pause for a moment, panicking as she suddenly found Harry, the person she saw as her brother, really attractive. Not in the, oh, he's cute. It was in the manner of, Oh god… he's hot…
Hermione felt like it was wrong. But then again, Harry seemed different. Really different.
His hair was tousled in a way that made it look like someone had their hands tangled in it. The cocky smirk on his face—it was a new addition, Hermione knew that very well—and then there was the way he carries himself with a confidence she envied.
He's so handsome… bad! Bad! Bad! Bad! Hermione squeaked, staggering away from Harry as she glared at him.
"Answer the question Potter! Ron and I have been worried sick!"
Yes… Ron and I are basically his parents. That's it! Hermione reassured herself, pointing an accusing finger at the dark haired boy. But she paused again, before immediately shaking her head to the next thought. She wasn't going to think about that here.
"I checked out some passages I saw on the map. Sorry for worrying you—excited that's all." Harry grinned, offering his hand to her. "C'mon, I know a shortcut."
Hermione eyed him suspiciously, before she sighed and took his hand. Harry's hand was bigger than hers, she could see scars. Old scars. His hands were calloused, she didn't know whether it was from their dangerous adventures or if it was from the horrible muggles he was stuck with. Nevertheless, Harry's hands were bigger than hers. They were warm, comforting, something Hermione found comfort in.
Harry led her to another corridor, stopping right in front of a portrait of an irritated looking man. She didn't know who he was, but Harry seemed to grin at him. Then hissing noises came out of his mouth.
The next thing Hermione knew, she was staring at a hidden passage where the Portrait swung open. The man in the portrait was quietly cursing, quietly hissing whatever words in parseltongue there was.
"Perks of being a parselmouth. This is our little secret, kay?" Harry grinned as he led her into the secret passage.
"How—"
"Found it by accident a few days before third year ended. Muttered a bunch of parseltongue and boom! Secret passage."
Another chain of hissing was heard, turning her head to the portrait. Then she turned back to Harry, who looked rather annoyed but merely brushed it off. They hurriedly walked through the passage, going down a flight of stairs. Harry had held Hermione's hand when going down, but as soon as they were done with the first flight of stairs, she was dragged towards another. It was a spiral staircase.
Harry murmured in parseltongue, and hurriedly stepped on one of the stairs. He dragged Hermione to his side, and the girl had squeaked as she felt the staircase move. She rightfully slapped his arm when he didn't give her a warning.
"Why didn't you tell us about this?" She didn't miss the way Harry sneered for a second before schooling his expression to a smile. It was eerie, Hermione didn't like it one bit.
"Ron's a Gryffindor. Maybe he'd have been sorted into Hufflepuff, but he's more Gryffindor. You saw how he panicked when he found out about me being a parselmouth. I don't fancy having him know that I've been frequently using it."
It was understandable but at the same time, Hermione wanted to argue with him. Ron was their friend, as Harry said, he was like a Hufflepuff. Loyal . But then she remembered how Ron had gone on a tirade about how being a parselmouth is considered dark in the British magical community. She found it absurd. It was like blood purity all over again, but this time, it was the light wizards who slander and condemn parselmouths.
"I—Okay… but promise me you'll bring me along next time…" Hermione scolded, but avoided his eyes. She felt warmth on her cheeks, she felt embarrassed. "I want to explore the castle more… if it's not a problem… could I borrow the map?"
Harry smiled at her, "Of course. Let's explore together… sorry Ron." The boy whispered, but grinned mischievously.
"Oh look! We've arrived on the first floor. Come now, before Ronald goes on a tirade of how we skipped breakfast."
"One, that is entirely your fault! Two, he wouldn't dare go off on a tirade. Simple scolding is what he prefers."
Harry laughed again. This time, he looked at her with a gaze of indescribable happiness that made her heart melt. She'd have been flattered, if it weren't for how he ran towards the hall, leaving her behind.
"What? Harry! Harry you prat!"
She chased after him, internally smiling as they finally arrived at the great hall. Ron was glaring at anyone who tried to take the food he had gathered then turned his glare towards them. Harry only laughed, sitting opposite to Hermione and Ron.
"Thanks. Sorry for worrying, I just had to check some of the secret passages on the map." Harry winked at Ron, swiftly grabbing some toast and bacon. Ron whined at Harry's seeker abilities, but grinned triumphantly.
"Hey, who'd you reckon's gonna be our schools champion?" Ron asked.
"Hm… Not really sure. Who're you betting on?"
Hermione wanted to groan so badly at the mention of betting. The night before, Gryffindor had gone and started betting on who they thought would be the Hogwarts champion. A fair few suggested someone from their own house, but some had been mature enough to admit they thought someone else would be the champion.
"Hm… If Oliver were still here he might have been champion." Ron chuckled, taking a bite out of his food.
"'Mione, what do you think?"
"I don't want to participate in the betting." She sighed, but was curious to who they thought would be champion. "What about you Harry?"
Harry hummed, eating his food with the grace Hermione had only seen on actors playing as aristocrats and purebloods. It was suspicious… "I think it would be someone from Hufflepuff. I'm quite thankful that there's an age limit. Imagine if there wasn't… so much pressure." He sighed.
Hermione stiffened, she saw Ron freeze as well. She hasn't considered that. Had there not been an age limit, Harry would have been pressured to be champion. That would be a nightmare, also taking into consideration that Harry despised the spotlight. It was hard to forget how Harry was willing to hex Lockhart for shoving so much attention to him.
She glanced towards Ron, who nodded in understanding. If anyone knew how much Harry hated attention, it was them.
"...Why do I have a feeling that you might just get roped into the tournament?" Ron hesitantly asked. It made her shudder.
Harry stared at him with slightly wide eyes, before a smile graced his lips. "If, by the power of fate and the will of the universe," Hermione rolled her eyes, "I get involved in the tournament, I sincerely hope you all stay by my side."
Ron grinned, "Of course I will! I mean we. Obviously you'll still be with Harry if he somehow gets sweeped into the tournament." The redhead corrected himself immediately, his face a bit red from embarrassment.
Cute , She thought. She realized it seconds later, turning red and shaking her head violently. What was she thinking? Ron? Cute? Absurd.
Her eyes met with Harry's vivid green, then the dark haired boy had the audacity to grin at her like the cheeky devil he had become after the summer. His face was begging to be slapped at this point.
"Well, what classes do you have? I went to speak with McGonagall last night about my new classes. It's a miracle that I remembered to owl a letter a month ago."
"Really? I've dropped Divination and Muggle studies. Merlin, were those classes useless to me."
"You took muggle studies?" Ron gave her an incredulous look, "You know what? I don't wanna know."
Harry laughed, "Seems like we have the same time tables. I chose Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and still attend Care of Magical Creatures. I guess all three of us share CoMC."
"Bloody hell! Harry, what has Hermione done to you?" Ron gasped, pressing a hand to Harry's forehead.
Hermione gave him an offended look, grabbing one of her books and hitting the back of his head. Ron yelped in pain, pouting at her as he nursed his head.
"Ancient Runes are interesting. Arithmancy is similar to Divination but requires numbers rather than spiritual attributes. Basically numerology. I prefer it over Divination since it's more useful in strategic situations." Harry explained with ease. Hermione was absolutely delighted to listen, but she saw the confused look on Ron's face.
"What?"
"It uses numbers to predict the future. Also it can help you with chess." Harry simplified, which Hermione couldn't help but giggle.
"Why… why in bloody hell am I in divination?!"
"Arithmancy requires complex math."
"Nevermind. I'll stick to Trelawney's insanity rather than deal with math." Ron quickly gave up, giving them a smile that explained how content he was not to deal with more math. Apparently wizarding families did teach their children math and it was still one of the most hated subjects.
Hermione rolled her eyes at that. "One day Ronald… One day I will beat you in chess and you will not see me coming." She vowed, conviction in her voice as she declared it.
A challenging look on Ron's face, he smirked at her. Why is that oddly attractive? Hermione thought with a frown.
"In your dreams Granger. In your dreams."
Nevermind. I want to hit him with my book again. Where's my book?
Meanwhile, poor Harry stared at the two with amusement. The tension between the two seemed to have been altered in a way that was more intense than his original life's. A smile on his face and a scheme to matchmake his friends, he was determined to get his niece and nephew back.
Alas… Should I let Viktor take Hermione to the ball or… he contemplated, Jealousy does help with the tension and solidify one's feelings.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he turned towards the Ravenclaw table. He was startled to see a pair of silvery blue eyes staring back at him. A serene smile gracing her lips, as she waved at him. The grin spreading across his face was inevitable.
"Beautiful as ever."
The moon was beautiful, even during the day.
Notes:
This chapter is literally just Hermione's POV… and her having multiple bi panics, Lmao.
Anyways, I will fight anyone who tells me that Hermione and Ron are not Harry's parents! I mean… Ones a pureblood from a family of gryffindors, the other is a very witty and smart muggleborn. One has a bit of an inferiority complex because of their siblings and the other is an only child who strives to be the best. One is a redhead and another has atrociously messy hair. (Both of them might be bi or pan, who knows!)
Ron and 'Mione are Harry's parents and someone will have to dig up my rotting body before I disagree with this fact.
Again, there are certain differences between Harry's first and thirteenth life. At glance they are similar, but the two lives are quite different, (aside from the fact that the harry of the thirteenth life is already the master of death.)
My schedule is still messed up but I try to post at least once a week. Exams are next week Thursday-Friday so please pray for me. Lmao, wish I was a regressing like— imagine having that 24 hour regression power and killing yourself after the first day of exam cause you already know what is coming. Hahahaha… damn this seems so sad.
Anyways, Hermione is bi and Harry is Omnisexual? Not completely sure but that's what I want for them for now. Ron is a work in progress.