Pure As Gold, Strong As Brass
The young preteen was in a new city, for her. Her parents were there visiting so she was as well. She was wandering along the new shopping area she had been introduced to, finding a bookstore. Bookstores were one of her favorite places, next to libraries. She went in and smiled once the smell of ancient books hit her. "Oh, that's a lovely scent," she sighed, smiling at the bookseller.
The old woman smiled at her. "It is, lass. How old are you?"
"Just about twelve," she said. "My parents are visiting and someone showed me this area, ma'am. Am I not allowed to look around?"
"Go ahead. I won't not sell someone who loves them books, lass." She beamed and went to browse for a long while. Some she pulled down to look at the index. A few she almost kept, but they were expensive. The old woman noted that and nodded. "Lass, those are advanced. You never start at the top, dear." She came over, leading her to an area. "This is for beginners."
She stared at her. "I know you're about to go to school." The girl beamed and nodded. "There's many choices to be made there." She stared at her. "Some of which are more important than others." She pointed. "That one, lass. Start there. Make a choice." She smiled at her. "It's up to you about your destiny and how pure you keep yourself."
"I've heard things about Wicca."
"Whole different field, dear. But many similarities at the moment for you." She handed over that book. The young girl nodded, clutching it to her chest and got two more, holding them up. "That's a good thing, yeah." She went to check her out, giving her a discount. "Now, go get a treat. And stay away from the tourist areas. They're rougher over there."
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you!" She bounced out to go back to the hotel so she could settle in to look over that recommended book. "Classical Classifications of Magic," she read. "Okay." She laid down to get into the various way things were classified. Including human versus non-human magics.
"Oh. Oh, I see why." She went over it. The difference wasn't much but it could be important in her future. That was a decision to make. She'd talk to her parents later about it. Though they wouldn't understand. She barely understood.
***
She was at the school during the first class, staring at the teacher. No one else had mentioned that book so she wouldn't. "Who created this spell?" she asked.
The teacher looked at her. "That's an interesting question. It was supposedly an elven one. Why?"
"Just something I read, sir." She felt the magic come to her call but it felt...wrong to her somehow. So she changed how she thought about it. Still felt a bit wrong. She could push past it but her mind was telling her it was wrong somehow. So she considered how to do that with her own personal style, which the book talked about. That came out and she nodded, then let it go. The teacher came over. She stared up at him. "Yes, sir?"
"What did you read?" he asked quietly. "I ask because I was watching you." She pulled out the book to put on the desk. "OH!" He nodded. "That's an important choice but many don't follow that anymore."
She nodded. "But it felt weird."
"It can."
"Weird but wrong."
"It can," he agreed then smiled. "That's a hard choice to make, my dear." He went back to his seat. "The book usually says that sort of thing." She smiled, putting that book back in her bag. She'd just have to figure out ways of getting around spells created by people using non-human magic. She could do that, probably. She had mastered a fountain pen, she could figure this all out.
The teacher watched her go over the next lesson and nodded at her reading the book. She'd be fine. Though he would warn the others she had been given that book somehow. Other teachers weren't as forgiving or as reasonable.
***
Her next teacher sighed when she kept her after class. "We should speak about that book."
"Why?" She sat down again, staring at her.
"Where did you even find it?"
"A charming little bookstore in Bath. My parents were there visiting so I looked around a bit. Is it a problem I read it?"
"No, but it is considered an older way," she admitted, staring at her. "One that not many care about."
"The book said that so many make that decision because it's easier. Or simpler. Or you can just follow along. I think I've made the decision to follow it. While it might not make a lot of difference, a lot of things feel ...wrong to me when I try to do them as the book instructs."
"I see." She nodded once. "Well, there's more to that than you already know."
"Oh, I went back with Mum and Dad, and got the next few books about it and talked to her about it with Mum and Dad's help." She smiled. "She told me why it matters and how it matters. And how to get around that feeling."
"Hmm." She nodded. "That's good. Have you shown others?"
"No, the other students don't really like me," she said dryly. "As you saw earlier." She shrugged. "No one's asked."
"Do try to keep that to yourself if they do. It could confuse some people or make them upset with themselves as they are following along."
"Doesn't everyone have that feeling that it feels weird?"
"Maybe the first few times. Then it feels normal."
"Oh. All right. I can do that." She nodded. "Is there anything else, Professor?"
"No." She waved a hand. "If you have questions or doubts you can come to me."
"Of course I would. That's what a professor is for." She smiled and went back up to the house to rest for a bit before dinner. Plus do her homework. Good grades were important.
The professor shook her head with a sigh, going to tell the headmaster and others about that. It was not usual and it'd cause everyone a few problems but the girl would be responsible for getting around them herself.
***
///TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE
You are of a species, and it's important that your magic stay within your species. It does not mean you cannot learn other ways, but you should not hope or try to learn ways that are foreign to your own species and self. Some spells and works were created, and are created, by those who are not of your species. Which can be done by those who choose to but if you chose the path of pure magic then that is something to avoid. However that does not mean that all forms of magic are forbidden to you.
Humans have created many forms of magic in many classifications and in many manners. Generally if it exists in one form from another species, it's been adapted by humans. We're just like that. Though it may not work for you as your own personal style would come into play there. Have you looked at the language test yet in the book 'Knowing Your Magic'? That can help you find your personal style and methodology.///
She frowned. "No one had that book," she told her book. "Or I would've." She went over that chapter on the different manners of human magic. The idea that good and evil were definitions wasn't alien to her, she had thought about that earlier in her life.
Nothing in life was black and white and some people did bad things for good reasons. Robin Hood's tales had taught her that. The idea that good things could be used to cause harm wasn't alien to her either. Her grandmother had cancer at one point in time, she had helped her through it as best she could at her young age.
She was sure there were more but she hadn't been exposed to them yet. She flipped onto her side while reading, nodding at the whole chapter's idea. Then she put it down to go back to her homework. Maybe the library had that book? She'd ask the librarian. She smiled as she walked up to her after getting out of bed.
"Yes, dear? Are you looking for the romance novels? Many girls have."
"Oh, heck no," she said with a grimace. "Not into that. One of the books I'm reading said to look at a book about magical languages? Do we have it here?"
She blinked a few times. "I'd rather you went for romance novels."
"I already know quite enough about how women are oppressed and about the theory that a man would save them somehow from it," she said dryly. "I'll make my own destiny, thank you. And if he's shirtless and pretty, then that's fine but I don't expect such fantasies in real life any more than I expect to find a unicorn in London's zoo."
"At one time they did have one," she admitted. "That book is in the forbidden section. What are you reading?"
Hermione smiled. "A book on theory."
The librarian sighed but nodded. "That could be important but not for you, dear. That's for those who come from older families."
The girl nodded. "If you're sure but I'd still like to read it. It might make it easier when certain spells don't work by what my book said."
"It could but it's still for the longer lived families." She gave her a soft smile.
"If you do suddenly want the romance novels they're under the window." She pointed.
"Hmm. I'll stay away from that area so the other girls aren't embarrassed to be seen picking one then. I don't judge people on what they read but I'd be mortally embarrassed if I was caught with one. Thank you then." She went to get a book for her current assignment and sat down to work on it for now. It was easy enough to do for her.
The headmaster got her on her way back to the tower, taking her to talk to her in front of her professor. "Dear, that book you were talking about is not for your kind."
"I find no difference in my kind versus any other human, Headmaster. Why would that matter? We are all human are we not?"
"Those things are only important to them."
She shrugged. "If I choose to make it important in my life then that's my choice. Isn't it." She stared at him. "I'm not that naive, Headmaster. I'm well aware of the divisions that have been foisted on me without my permission." He winced. "It became apparent from the first moment I knew about this whole world. Why would I want to let anyone take a choice I made from me?"
"You won't be succeeding here. Too many things would cross that boundary."
"Then it's up to me to adapt it to use with my own magic, isn't it? Because the way you think about magic and the way I think about magic are probably much different. The same as I can tell when a spell is being done the wrong way by me. I learned to listen to my instincts long ago. It's kept me safe for years because London is a dangerous place for everyone at times."
"It's still not something that a young girl like you should be concerned about," the professor told her.
She looked at her. "That's my choice to be concerned about that and learn about it. It's my choice to be here as well. I can combine the two I'm sure," she said dryly. "If not, then I'll go find a school that suits me better and doesn't have a roving band of morons who're against how you're born, when I had nothing to do with that. It's not like I picked my parents."
The professor winced. "Frankly, the roving band of idiots are probably not the sort I'd ever be concerned with as they're not interested in anything I'd care about anyway. Why would I care about their opinions?"
"It would make your life here difficult," the headmaster said.
"Those sort are already trying. Thankfully my parents raised me to know my mind, think my way through my choices, and to stick to my decisions if I feel them correct for me." She stared at him. "It's not like I'm unaware of the prejudice that's roving around here. They're up the hall being loud at this moment." She waved a hand with a sigh.
Then went to glare at them, hauling the girl away from them. "Here, go somewhere safer." The girl ran off. She went back in there, staring at the professor. "I will make my own choices and stand by them until I decide that it is not for me. That is not up to anyone but myself. Anything else tonight, Headmaster or Professor?"
They glared at her. She stared back then walked off when they didn't say anything. One of the bullies started to catcall her so she flipped them off. "You're not worthy of me. You just proved it." He spluttered and his friends were horrified. She looked at them. Then continued up the stairs. One tried to hex her but it missed. She turned the corner on the stairs without seeming to care. It peeved them greatly but good!
The two adults shared a look. They'd have to break her of that idea some other way outside of logic. "How did she even learn about that?" he asked his teacher.
"She noted a bookstore in Bath while she and her parents were visiting. It could be a childish idea of getting power."
"No, she doesn't seem to want power. She hasn't searched out people to make friends with for influence."
"She hasn't made many friends of any sort," she corrected. "Mostly because of those bullies. They really should be punished for such horrible behavior."
"Then we'd have to deal with their parents."
"Yes, their parents got punished for their own problems in that area," she said blandly. "The world is getting worse because we haven't." He rolled his eyes but went up to his office to write Hermione's parents a letter to make her give up such problematic beliefs. It really wasn't for her sort of witch.
***
Hermione's mother stared at the headmaster who had decided to beard her in her office. Her husband came in and shut the door. "You needed to speak to us about your letter, Headmaster?"
"Such studies really aren't for girls like yours, Madam. It's for pureblood sons really. No one really holds any sway by it any longer but it's not something she should be seeking out at her status."
"Yes, I've heard of that status issue," the father said, staring at him. "It was all over the train platform." The headmaster almost didn't wince.
"We've also heard about it from Hermione herself," the mother agreed with a nod. "But I will tell you that you're basically out of luck here, Headmaster. I raised our daughter to be kind, caring, have manners, know her own mind, make her own decisions after thinking about it, and what to do if her decision is proven to be a wrong one.
"I have raised my little girl to be the sort of young woman who will make the world a better place for others. If she found those books, then there was probably a reason the witch at the bookstore suggested she read them. Perhaps she saw something we don't know of yet. I have no idea, but I trust my daughter's instincts.
"They've been proven right repeatedly. Including finding out her grandmother was ill with cancer and nagging her dreadfully until she got checked out." She stared at him. "I do not rightfully care what your society thinks of young women who are of good birth but not of pureblood status, as none of us are racists.
"We don't rightfully care where you came from or who you came from, we care about who you are and what you do with your life. The weight of your blood matters not a bit to anyone in this family. Nor would we ever care and if Hermione did start to care about such, then I'd be very disappointed in her. As should the parents of those other ones we heard at the platform."
"She is not really in touch with the modern magical community."
"Then that's your fault for pressing blood status over all else. If it's that big of a problem we'll find her a different school. I'm sure there's others, no matter what your professor told us about you being the best. Especially as Hermione's said that half of her professors seem to be wrong to be teaching. Something about hateful, lurking people who sneered at her for actually doing her homework and punishing her for it.
"One's a ghost apparently. One has no teaching certificate even if he does have experience." She stared at him. "My daughter read up on it and made a decision, which is what I encourage her to do. Always. As should anyone when making a decision. If you don't appreciate that we'll withdraw her and send her to a better school."
"It will give her problems for years handling her magical gifts. It could get her expelled if she cannot show competence."
"Yet, she's showed more competence than many have," the father sighed. "Our daughter was working ahead before she even got there, Headmaster. She's bragged about her test scores and practical exam scores she's already had. They don't say she's having a problem with competence."
"The teachers would count her down as she's not following the way we all do things."
The mother snorted. "If I wanted my daughter to be a minion I'd have turned her into one. Yes, many of the ways spells are described don't suit her magically. She said it feels weird when she tried. Her instincts showed her it wasn't how it should be. So she does it how it works for her.
"Which means she got it right because it worked. It's like being left handed instead of right handed. For years the stigma for left handed people made the children be switched by force. Then we realized it was dumb to expect them to do things just like everyone else." She shrugged but looked smug. "She is the woman she'll become and I'm sorry you don't appreciate her. We'll gladly start looking at other schools once we contact your Ministry for a list."
"She is not being asked to leave, just to give up on such lofty goals that aren't suitable for her kind."
"Her kind is a witch apparently," the father said. "Yoru blood status laws are asinine and a problem for everyone but yourselves. Including those in the US, which we have talked to because we looked them up for later educational goals for college programs for her." He smirked a bit.
"They said your school isn't actually as vaunted as you said it was and called it mediocre while encouraging us to get our daughter away from your school. So far she's determined to not give up. Which we will honor her decisions because she realized that meant she'd be taking extra courses on her own time. Which she has committed to and already passed some of the lessons."
"Frankly, to be honest, we don't care what you think is right for our daughter. That's up to her decision," her mother said with a shrug. "I do not care if you do not like her hair, her teeth, her grades, or her underthings. That's all up to her decision and she knows that and we will back her decision.
"If we thought it was wrong we'd try to change her mind by showing her facts but so far it seems to work for her. Also, to be honest, your push about 'not for non-purebloods' is not only insulting but horrifically toward ways of life that we thought was banished with the last world war. We do not put up with such discrimination around our family.
"For any reason. No matter if it's blood, skin color, choice of spouse, country of origin, or religion. If you find her doing that, do let us know so we can figure out where she mis-stepped and correct it. As you're here trying to push such discrimination against our daughter, that's showing how very unworthy your society is against regular standards." She tipped her head slightly when he looked pissed off. "We push all such hate as *old* ways as modern people do not do that."
"You will not be changing Hermione's mind about anything she's made her decision on," the father agreed, patting his wife on the shoulder. "Especially about discriminatory things like blood status. Everyone bleeds the same and you can't tell their lineage without a chart and probably in your case spells instead of DNA." He shrugged but smiled. "Anything else today, Headmaster? We do have to see patients."
"I can have her moved to a magical family if it discomfits you that she has a certain status in our society."
"Headmaster, you may not read things but the sign behind my head says that we tape everything that goes on in this office in all patient encounters and offices. That includes in here and it's automatically saved down somewhere remote so you couldn't erase if it you tried." She smirked a bit.
"It's not that hard, it's part of the computer system. Should you try to remove my daughter from my care, you'll find yourself sued. Heavily. And Hermione knows to attack any such kidnapers to protect herself." She leaned back in her chair, staring at him.
"We'll be talking to her about her choice to stay at the school over break. I'm sure there's many good schools the US colleges will accept." He disappeared. She typed out a message to their lawyer for magical community things with a copy of that tape for him. He sent back he had listened and was horrified. He'd make sure she was safe.
He asked what it was over and she noted it to him and he sighed then said it was an ancient practice but if Hermione wanted to go that way, more power to her. Most people thought it annoying and boring. She noted they left that up to Hermione herself and it was fine with them.
***
"So you've decided to take up a pureblood habit," Pansy sneered at her in the hallway the next day.
Hermione looked at her. "What you think of what I do has absolutely no bearing on my life, Miss Parkinson. Never will probably." The girl shrieked when Hermione walked away from her. It was faked, she hated that girl, but she wouldn't wish her harm. She knew what karma was.
"You'll never make it all the way through school."
"That's up to me, not you." Hermione looked at her. "I have not a bit of a give a damn about anything you consider the right thing for anyone else, Pansy. Your opinion is worthless in relation to my life and how I choose to live it. From my diet to my skills to my homework, you matter not a bit to me in any manner at this moment.
"Really, you're digging yourself a deeper hole if you ever want my help with anything like homework." She shrugged and turned back around, staring at the teacher. Who was glaring at her. She stared back. "I don't put up with bullying, it's childish."
"You're on a diet?" he sneered.
"No but I eat appropriately most of the time so my health doesn't get impacted," she said dryly. "Dentists are medical professionals, Professor. I do know what a complete and necessary diet contains and how often sneaking a cookie can happen without affecting my health or teeth. Or my skin."
He snorted, staring at her. "You're a willful child."
She shrugged. "I'm twelve. I'm allowed to be a child for a few more years, willful or not. At least I think and consider my decisions before I make them." He glared. She stared back. He spun and stomped off, letting them into the classroom. She sat down in her spot, looking at the board once her books were down. Nothing up there yet.
She got out paper and a quill, plus her ink to take notes. Ron flopped down, jiggling her ink pot, which she stopped by hand instead of by spell. She rolled her eyes at his problems with everything but it wasn't her duty to help him if he didn't want it. She had tried once and he had proven he was another of the bullies the school contained.
He shoved his books toward her so she nudged them back then put something in his way when he tried it again. He glared. She stared back so he quit before she hit him. She sighed, looking at the staring professor. She took a deep, calming breath like she had been taught by her mother to control her temper. That helped. She had to go back over her temper control soon.
"Problems, Miss Granger?"
"No, Professor, not in the least," she said dryly. "Why do you ask?"
"Should your scale be there?"
"I figured he could use it easier that way instead of having to reach over me again and nudging my cauldron this time like he did last time. Which you then took points off me for." He snorted, staring at her. She took notes when he put them up with his wand, then got what she'd need.
"Thanks," Ron said, reaching for hers.
"That's mine. Go get your own," she said quietly.
"Hey!"
She glared, feeling her temper coming up. "You didn't ask me to get your supplies, Ronald. Get. Your. Own." He stomped off to do that. She sat down to work on the potion, which again felt wrong to her. She stared at it then considered it. One ingredient felt wrong. She looked it up in the book.
"Are you doubting my instructions?" Snape demanded from behind her as he walked around the tables.
"Wondering about the one ingredient, Professor. I've only seen it once before." She went over it and figured out why. "Oh, that's why. It's young spruce needles," she muttered. She looked at that potion's ingredients, raising her hand. He smirked at her but ignored it. "Sir, it says if you use young needles, which these are as they're not dried, it could cause an explosion that would cause caustic burns. Is that not correct?"
"They're fine, Miss Granger. Do your potion."
She stared at him. "Fine. If you're sure. I'll make note that you said you're sure it's fine." He raised an eyebrow. She smirked. "My uncle, the lawyer, taught me how to notate things for later consideration. That way I knew what was being done at that time so I could go over later problems for tests."
He raised an eyebrow but she did work on it, hesitating over the needles. She considered drying them but that wasn't a good idea. Ron, he didn't measure. He just threw some in so she had to bring up a shield suddenly to protect herself and others. Including the professor with the way he threw the needles in and it exploded everywhere.
Ron yelped as it caught him but she cast a first aid charm to stop the burns, and looked at one of her house. "Get him to the nurse! He's got burns. I cast a freezing charm on them to stop it." They rushed over to take Ron with them to the nurse. She sighed and cleaned it up by hand once she had gloves on. Then she set Ron's cauldron off to the side. The professor had watched all that.
"You should have helped him."
She stared at him. "He didn't ask for my help. He's shown in the past he didn't want my help. That's all his decision." Snape snorted. "And the one who gave us very young spruce needles." He spun to glare at her. She stared back. "I didn't pick the ingredients. Whoever sold them lied about their age to you?"
"Apparently," he sneered.
She finished up and didn't touch her potion, staring at it. She stirred it a few times then went to look at the spruce needle container. There were some ancient dried ones in the bottom so she brought it back to use. That helped and she didn't have another explosion.
"What spell is that?" Neville asked her quietly with a point of his finger.
"Oh, a shielding spell." She brought it down. "Didn't mean to upset you, Neville."
"You didn't. You kept me from joining Ron in the infirmary. Thank you." She grinned at him for that, nodding a tiny bit. She finished her potion in time and bottled it then sighed, going to clean out her cauldron.
"You forgot your seatmate's," Snape ordered. Neville cleaned it. "She could."
"She can't give it to him later, Professor," Neville said. "Not like she lives in our room." Harry and the others nodded at that, helping by grabbing Ron's things to stuff into his trunk later. She took one to fix and handed it back, making Harry grin at that since it wouldn't spill. She packed up and they left when the class ended. She walked around the boys and disappeared to the bathroom for a few minutes. Then to the next class.
The teacher in there stared at her. "You're late."
"Sorry, I had to take care of a personal moment," she said, sitting down and getting things out.
"You couldn't wait until lunch?" the professor asked.
She blushed but stared at him. "No, me overbleeding wouldn't wait that long, Professor. Did I want to leave a mess all over this school?" He shuddered but stomped off. She got into the lesson, grimacing. She was embarrassed but she knew it was a bodily function that almost all women had to deal with sometime. The guys gave her odd looks but she tried to ignore it.
She went upstairs before lunch to change her bag, change her panties and fix her bleeding problem, swearing that the school didn't have appropriate devices to contain it. She'd send a note home to her mother and put up with the simple cloth rags for now. She ran into Professor McGonagall when she came back down. "Yes, Professor?"
"You're having your monthly?" she asked quietly. "You're very young."
"I've had it for almost a year now, Professor," she said with a blush. "I'm just not used to the primitive pads you have available for us. I'm used to tampons and absorbent pads that can last for a few hours longer."
"They do?"
"Yes." She nodded. "I'm sending a letter to my mother later to get something suitable so I don't run into that problem again. That way the professor can't complain at me."
"What happened to Mr. Weasley?"
"Well, Professor Snape gave us young, undried spruce needles for the potion today, when the book cautioned that it would make it explode and cause caustic burns, and then Ron didn't measure, he just tossed it in."
The professor frowned. "Why would he do that?"
She shrugged, summoning that book to show her. "That potion, Professor."
"Oh." She read it over, nodding. "It does say that. So he didn't measure?"
"Threw in a handful. I caught it from my side view and put up a shield immediately before it got the rest of us." She showed the small spot on her sweater arm. "I was almost fast enough."
"Are you injured?"
"No. Just got the sweater. Is there a healing type charm for woven fabrics?"
"Yes. Repairing charms would work," she said patiently.
"Oh, good. Reparo," she cast at her sleeve, fixing it. That made her smile. "Anything else, Professor? I need to eat something. My cycle can make me a bit queazy first thing in the morning and headachy all night so I missed both meals."
"It does?"
"Yes, it's due to the hormones. My mother's talking to my new GYN about that to see if there's a medicine to help. I'll be trying it over holiday break."
"That's good then. Go eat." She nodded, going to do that. She went up to check on her student. Ron was complaining that Hermione hadn't shielded him. "How would she have done that?" she asked patiently. Ron stared at her like she was weird. "You can't impose a shield around another sort at your age, Mr. Weasley."
"She could've just done the pot!"
"You should've done the pot," she told him. He frowned at that. "It was your potion. Did you measure those needles?"
"I..."
She held up a hand. "Do not lie. Did you measure it? Or simply throw it in?"
"It said to add it!"
"The book also said to cut it into thirds and add it slowly as you stir," she said dryly. "Did you?"
"That wasn't in the instructions he put up!"
"It was in the book," she said. "Like the other classes, you have to read the book before classes." She stared at him. He huffed but slumped down pouting. She looked at the nurse, who smiled at her. "Will he be fine?"
"By breakfast."
"Good. I'll expect to see him at the table tomorrow then." She left, going to make a note to his mother about that. Why hadn't Molly taught him to measure when cooking or making potions? The others had all learned.
***
Snape looked at Hermione that night in front of the headmaster. "Why did you not just shield the pot, Miss Granger?" the headmaster asked.
"Because his arm was in the way so it wouldn't be a good shield and would've harmed others. Ron could've gotten out of the way, Headmaster."
"You could have tutored him."
"I tried in the past in another class and he was most upset that I tried to help him so therefore I'm not."
"A student leader would."
"I'm not a student leader," she said, staring at him. "Or his parent or his friend as Ron hates me greatly." She shrugged. "I managed to shield most of us. Ron's arm was in the way of the shield going up well enough and he could've shielded it as well. Why are you blaming me for him being unable to do something? Am I his mother?"
The headmaster stared at her. "All students should look out for their house members."
"And I did, I protected the greatest majority of them from the one causing the problem. That's why we aren't all up there with Ron."
"It's distressing how this habit of yours has impacted your relationship with your house."
"It has nothing to do with any decisions I've made. Being blunt, my house is full of pricks who pick on people. For the supposedly *brave* and *noble* house they don't show it very well." The headmaster choked. She looked at the professor then at him again. "I did as I must to protect the greatest number of the students in there, including the Slytherins with how much he threw in there and how much force the explosion had against that shield."
"You should have taught him better," Snape said.
She looked at him. "I'm not his mother, his sister, his relative in any manner. That's who should teach him how to measure if a professor doesn't. I'm not the teacher. Anything else today, Headmaster?" She blinked at him. "I'm rather exhausted thanks to my headache."
"From potions?"
"From my hormones. My monthly does it to me every month," she said dryly. "If you must know." He flinched back at that. "Then have a better night." She walked off, going to hide in a bathroom for a bit of a cry and a sulk. She hated this school. Maybe transferring would be better.
She realized she forgot to send the letter to her mother and snuck up to do that, hearing the professor and headmaster talking about her in the halls with Professsor McGonagall. She eavesdropped but their opinion didn't matter either. Maybe the magical world wasn't worth the trouble.
***
Ron glared at her the next morning. "Are you happy?" he sneered.
She glared at him. "Your arm would've prevented the shield going up at all. Did you think we all needed to be burned with you because you can't measure?" He flinched back, looking horrified. "I don't care, Ron, I really don't. And right about now I'm going to take a swing at you if you don't get out of my face." He slumped back into his seat. She settled in to make herself eat something.
Ron's twin brothers looked at her. "What happened?" one asked her patiently.
"Mum will want to know," the other agreed.
"Ron put too much spruce needles into the potion," she said. "I put a shield around his seat so the rest of us didn't join him in his burns." She stared at one then ate a bite of eggs, spitting it back into a napkin. "That tastes bad." She sighed, testing another spot. "Great, senses," she muttered, adding something to it to sweeten it. That made her able to eat it, barely. She got up afterwards, going to the library before classes. She had things she could do so she could ignore most of her house.
***
It was All Saints and she was interested in how people celebrated but it had nothing to do with her. She wasn't going to pretend to be super into the holiday, it being tradition or not. It wasn't something she had ever really liked. The idea of dressing up to have fun was cute but she wasn't six anymore. The other kids talking about it were all excited.
She was depressed thanks to Ron again. So she decided to skip and not eat. She had some snacks in her trunk. If not, missing one meal wouldn't hurt her. Of course, that's when a troll came into the bathroom with a bang. She screamed in terror, trying to get away. It swung at her, knocking her down and nearly out. Then some boys showed up to help her. Which was mind blowing to her.
Once the troll was down, Harry moved to help her. "Hey, you in there?" he asked with a smile.
"Mostly," she admitted. "Thank you, Harry and Ron."
"Can't let you be a splatter," Ron said. They helped her up and went back toward the house. The professors caught them and tried to complain. She stared at them. Then shook her head. "No, Professor, I was having a good sulk in the bathroom because things suck here," she told them, making her head of house flinch.
"The students are horrid, half the professors can't even read their own books apparently so are teaching us differently than it's explained, and I wanted a good bit away from people. It was great the boys helped me. They proved they're Gryffindors." She walked Harry off and pulled on Ron's arm.
"It's Halloween," Professor McGonagall said.
Hermione turned to stare at her oddly. "So? I haven't celebrated that holiday since I was six. It's not my holiday. Did you want me to pretend?" The professor shook her head. "Then I was being polite and not bringing anyone else down."
"C'mon, you may have a concussion," Harry said.
Hermione looked at him, shaking her head. "No. No dizziness. Thankfully. I doubt we have neurologists around here." She sighed, walking off with the boys helping her. "Thank you, boys." They nodded. She went to clean up and lay down, her head did hurt.
"I am not horrid," one of the girls complained.
Hermione snorted quietly but closed her curtains. She didn't want to poke that girl's delusions of being nice.
Harry walked past her, shaking his head. "Who was it that picked on Hermione about her hair? I figure she has it under better control when she had access to things like a hair dryer."
The girl frowned. "What's a hair dryer?"
"Just what it sounds like," an older girl sighed, staring at her. "Yes, you're a bullying prick to Granger, most of us have been. Mostly pushed there by the teachers. So let's pull together as a house and treat her like she's at least human." The girl pouted but nodded on her way to her bed to think about that.
The older kids got together to talk about the problems in their house, mostly thanks to Potter being picked on for being himself and Granger being picked on by most everyone in the school.
***
"Hey, Granger, do you celebrate Beltane and what's it for?"
She put down her pencil, looking up the dinner table at that student. "No, I don't celebrate Beltane. I've only read a single book about Wicca and the nature religions to compare it to what I already knew. It seems to suit them to live so naturally. And I believe, isn't Beltane a spring holiday? Then it's probably related to planting maybe?"
"We thought you might be one of them."
"No, sorry." She smiled a bit. "I have nothing against it, or any other religion, but I'm not very religious myself." She shrugged a bit. "I can help you look it up if you need me to."
"No, just wondering. You hear some pretty wild rumors."
She nodded. "I'm sure they partied during their holidays. It seemed to be a common thing to dance around the fires and have picnics under the stars to celebrate nature. Though some supposedly had a small sacrificial element of their enemies or someone who volunteered. I haven't done a deep dive into their history but there's a lot of it in this area of the world as we had the Celtic peoples before Rome forced them to hide."
The kid blinked a few times. "We did?"
"Yes." She smiled and nodded. "That's all the local UK's history then Rome came to take over. That's why we have monuments like Stonehenge and the carved pictograms on the hills. Plus a lot of villages and settlements they're finding by digging around the countryside."
"I didn't know that." He nodded, going back to his lunch. "Thanks, Granger."
"Welcome." She went back to her homework.
Ron looked at her. "That's not due for a week."
"Yes but if I get it done now, I don't have to rush and do it the night before it's due," she said dryly, staring at him. "So if we have two things due on that same day I'm not rushed and getting bad grades. The same as I keep a calendar to keep track of assignments given."
"You can do that?" Ron asked. Hermione pulled hers out to show him. "Oh, that's weird that you can do that. What's that?"
She looked at the pointed area. "Herbology. We have a practical test then." She sighed. "That's test, that's paper," she said with another point. "That's which class by period so I don't run out of room in the small boxes. I got too small of a scheduling book this year."
He nodded, handing it back. "That seems to work. I had no idea you could do that." She nodded, tucking it back into her bag.
The twins looked down there. "Yes, you should," they agreed together. "Before you flunk your first year."
Ron sighed but nodded, letting Hermione help him set up a calendar on regular parchment so he could fill it in. She added things from hers for him. That made him groan because they had a paper due tomorrow. He didn't realize that was even an assignment. He got to work on it so she flipped his book open to the right part for him. "Thanks," he complained. But he did get to work on it.
She cleared her throat. "Any great paper starts with an outline so you know what you're writing and where," she said quietly, showing hers on that paper. "See, you make an outline of what you're going to put into it then you can switch things around if it doesn't suit you by drawing arrows.
"It means you don't have to rewrite the whole thing." He beamed at that. "So you'd start here with the main topic points, then the points under the main point to describe it or explain it, then to the next main point if you need one, or a conclusion if you don't. Then you work from that to write your paper, and edit it as necessary as you write."
"Okay, I can try that." He settled in to do that for that paper and it did help him figure out what he was going to write at least.
She put hers back into her bag and got back to her current assignment that was due next week.
Harry looked at them. "I learned to do that in primary," he agreed. "It does help." He got into his own paperwork. "The one in Defense?"
"Page eighty-three, Harry," she said without looking up.
"Oh, that thing." He rubbed his forehead because the defense teacher had just come in and his head was hurting. She stared at him. "No idea," he said quietly.
"Do get it checked soon?" He nodded he would. She got finished and put her work away so she could finish her sandwich and soup. "Ten minutes left," she told the boys. They tucked the work into their books and dug in again because they were growing boys.
***
"I think we should push her," Dumbledore told the teacher's meeting. "It's distressing to the other students."
"Who wouldn't know if you hadn't told them," Madam Sprout said dryly, staring at him. "It's her choice, not yours, Albus. As I did until I found a time when I needed to cross over. Then I cleaned my magic thoroughly." He looked horrified.
McGonagall cleared her throat but nodded. "Many women start out that way and some of us manage it and some of us didn't pay much attention to it. It's a choice everyone must make for themselves. If she can manage it, more power to her.
"It means she's got to figure out how to do some of the work in ways that the rest of us may not use as some are crossed over from other species like High Elves." She stared at him. "If you hadn't noted it to the Slytherins it might have helped her greatly. Instead you had to push on her to a point where it's gotten dangerous for her."
"She's a muggle born and that is not something they should be doing," he said firmly.
"It's up to everyone about how they use their magic," Flitwick noted patiently. "Including me doing both of my species' magic because that's innate to me." He stared at the headmaster. "Pushing that girl just means she does it without us watching her. She's already ahead. Has been all term." McGonagall sighed but nodded.
"Any announced papers she's already working ahead on so she doesn't get behind. She taught Mr. Weasley about a homework calendar the other day. A young magic user, male or female, has to decide how they're going to use their magic and how they want to manipulate themselves with it. Though I doubt she'll be the one doing beauty charms."
"I believe either the Patil twins or Miss Brown will be that sort," McGonagall noted. "They seem to be that sort of girlish girl." She looked at Snape then at the headmaster. "Frankly, I don't care how she does her magic, if she finds ways around the things that we use because she feels she must do it differently. I do the same thing in transfiguration because the Elmars method doesn't work for me.
"I felt my magic rebelling and had to find my way to an older style to make it work for me without causing a problem like changing half the class by accident, which I know you still remember watching me do, Albus." He winced at that memory. "We all do it. She's just decided on making it harder on herself by keeping with purely human methods and spells. Which is a noble goal for any magical. Leave my student be."
"It's not proper. That's for purebloods."
Snape snorted. "Not a single one of them wants that sort of complication and none have paid outward attention to such things. Outside Parkinson picking on her about it." He slowly waved a hand in the air. "Even Malfoy hasn't and I know his father believes in pure magic. If he's doing so he's kept it to himself, as has Granger. The only way we knew was because you told us. Though I would hate to see what she got into by studying on her own and the accidents she'll cause," he told McGonagall.
"Then quit intentionally screwing up the students," she told him. "You knew damn well about those spruce needles." He sneered. She glared back. "Remember, what you do to the students in your class we can do to yours." He piped down at that reminder she would do something to make his students get hurt.
"Some of us don't like torture," Madam Sprout said. "But some of the students do draw the worst to themselves on purpose. Malfoy comes to mind for that."
"He's milking it for attention because his parents don't give him any," Flitwick said. "It's classic really. He's dutiful and a parrot to his father because it gets him attention and slight amounts of affection. Which will unfortunately probably follow into his future marriage. Whoever they decided to arrange him with. It's classic really."
McGonagall sighed but nodded. "I've made him actually take responsibility and he was horrified." She looked at Severus, who glared at her. She raised an eyebrow. "He needs to, it's how one grows up."
"Point. I'll point out that his acting out is looking poorly on his upbringing."
"Please do," Madam Sprout sighed. "He tries to torture some of the plants as well, Severus."
He nodded. "I'll note that to him later." He looked at the headmaster. "You won't break that child. She's determined and strong enough to withstand it for the last three months. She might switch schools, which I would welcome openly, but you won't make her change her mind."
"Frankly, she's noted that she feels the wrongness when she tries the methods we're teaching on some spells," Flitwick said, making McGonagall nod she knew what that felt like. "Is that how you did?"
"It felt wrong and it made my magic surge. Horribly surge. I thought it was hormonal but it wasn't. Then I learned there's another older manner of doing some of the spells. I used that to teach myself how to do the ones we were being taught. She doesn't seem to be against that if we'd show her."
"No, she's not against learning," Madam Sprout said happily. She smiled. "She'll learn anything you ask her to learn and anything that interests her. She's read a good bookshelf of the library already. Maybe someday she'll take Irma's library from her."
Dumbledore looked at her. "Madam Pince doesn't tend to read the books."
"She did before," she said dryly. "Back in her school years. Exactly like Granger has started to. Plus she's organized."
"She is," McGonagall agreed with a nod. "Very organized. Where did she learn of pure magic?"
"Some bookstore," Dumbledore complained. "If I could find them I'd have them shut down for spreading such things to innocent students."
The women looked at him then at each other. "Hopefully they also carry things on how to be in a good relationship and have good marital relations," McGonagall said dryly. "Because that's a need we see all too often in this school." Dumbledore glared. She stared back, raising an eyebrow. "We have and should teach it." He huffed at that.
"I find hexing the problematic party in that relationship works wonders to stop it," Snape said.
"Yes but you often get the female even if it's not her fault," Flitwick said. "You got one for complaining that her boyfriend cheated on her." He stared at him. "Even though she was under a virginity vow." Snape rolled his eyes at that. "Or else her family could be dissolved and you'd be missing a pureblood when it killed her." Snape huffed but oh well. Facts were facts.
"I pulled her aside to go over that vow and what it actually meant," Madam Sprout told him. "She had no idea that it was violated by just touching his bare skin on his arm. Her grandmother cast a very problematic version of that vow on her as a child. She nearly violated it once when she was a six-year-old by petting a friend on the arm."
"Such things should be banned," McGonagall said. "We all know that." That got a nod. "Do we have more of those here?"
"She's in her last year but the prefects have pulled their students aside to warn them about why she wears gloves and isn't friendly."
"That'll help," McGonagall decided. "Are there others?"
"Next year," Sprout said. "Probably one for my house as she's a happy young woman. Verdana."
McGonagall made that note for her. "Maybe she'll go to France. It's mostly a girls' school."
"That could've helped," Dumbledore complained. "We do not share such information with the other students."
"And yet, you did with Granger," McGonagall said, staring at him. "I believe the muggle born in fourth year said it was a butt hurt moment on your part." Snape spluttered at that. "It sounds like it was nibbling on your bum so you shared." She looked at the other teachers. "What other problematic students have we noted? Beyond Malfoy?"
"Ron Weasley. How his mother didn't train him at home I have no idea," Madam Sprout said.
"The daughter came right after him so she was busy grooming her," Flitwick sighed. "She left him to his older brothers, who were all too young as well."
"That would explain a lot," McGonagall agreed, making that note. "Has he gotten better since Miss Granger taught him how to outline a paper and do a homework calendar?"
"Yes, he got it done in time," Flitwick assured her with a smile. "Not at the beginning of the class when someone reminded him."
"He has no skill in my classes," Snape noted. "He cannot measure, cannot chop or slice or even mince, and he's deplorable in attitude."
"Yes, that's because he was raised by Percy," Flitwick complained.
Snape considered it. "Yes, he would be reacting against that, wouldn't he." He grimaced. "That does explain so much." The others nodded at that. "Also, we have to talk about Miss Lovegood next year?"
"She'll be fine," McGonagall noted. "Probably one of mine or one of yours but she'll be fine."
"She's not equipped to handle Slytherin. The house would eat her alive."
McGonagall stared at him. "She'll do fine, Severus. We can make sure she's supported as a true student should be, even though her father is a bit nutty."
He nodded once. "I'd rather not have her."
"Talk to the hat," she complained. "I have about the twins but it said they had no other placement possible. And about Miss Abersome, who was made a nice little Hufflepuff."
Madam Sprout grinned at her. "She doesn't fit in at all but my students put up with her weirdness and accept her for it. Shouldn't Granger be a Ravenclaw?"
"She wants knowledge for the sake of learning new things, not to use it," Flitwick said. "That means she's not one of Rowena's brood. They want to use it to get power or influence or to gain things. Make themselves stronger. Not to just learn things. Which does point at the future of a librarian."
"It does," McGonagall agreed with a nod. "At least mine have started to pull together after that troll incident." She glared at that teacher, who shrank away from her. She glared at the headmaster as well. "How did it even get in here? There's wards!"
"I have no idea," he admitted. "It makes no sense. Maybe a student summoned it by accident?"
Snape snorted at that idea. "We have some mighty dunderheads that would've done it on purpose and you know it, Albus."
"True but I don't want to think poorly of them."
"No, just the one muggleborn female," Sprout said dryly. "Who could probably sue the school for nearly getting her killed because she was crying in a bathroom and our wards failed horrifically. When are they being gone over?"
"This summer," he said. "I'm having a few curse breakers come up to go over the wards to check them over." That got a nod. "Do we have other students to discuss?" No one said anything so the meeting broke up. He went to think about that *girl* in his office, still hating her ideas. He would not put up with such wrong things from a student under his care! But he had to be more subtle.
***
Granger was in the library when Harry came in wobbling. "Harry," she said, hopping up to help him into a seat. "That's it. I'm calling my Mum to get you to a real hospital. That can't be good."
"It's a magical thing," Ron said as he walked in.
"Are you sure? You know about brain medicine?" she countered. Ron glared. She stared back. "It could be very serious, Ron. It could even be a traumatic brain injury from when he was younger showing signs now. It could lead to his brain ripping itself apart. It could be a tumor." Ron shuddered, backing up a step. "He needs to see someone, now. Preferably someone good who takes the time to do the investigative work on it to see what is going on. No one should have nosebleeds like he has."
"I'm fine," Harry told her, patting her on the hand. "Really, 'Mione, I'm okay."
She stared at him. Then she leaned closer to him. "My grandmother died of breast cancer that spread to her brain, Harry. Her last six months she had daily nosebleeds from the tumor's growth." He winced at that. "I want you to see someone. Today. And if the nurse up there won't send you on and just blows it off, tell me and I'll gladly get my mother to contact a few of her doctor friends to get you into someone good. That's how it works fastest."
He nodded. "We'll go up there to talk to Madam Pomfrey," he assured her.
"Good!" She cleaned up her mess and stuffed it into her bag, which Ron noted she didn't try to fuss into a proper placement. She just stuffed it. So she was determined. He went with them, catching Harry when he wobbled. "Moblicorpus," she cast, floating him up the stairs with Ron's help. She waved him into the infirmary. "Harry just nearly passed out on the way up here after the third day's nosebleed."
"His third today?" the nurse demanded.
"His third since lunch," Ron told her. "And the sixth in the last three days. Four days. I didn't see one yesterday."
"He started to and passed out," Hermione told him. "I made sure of it." She looked at the nurse after floating Harry onto a bed. "I can ask my parents to get him to a doctor friend of theirs if we need to. My mother would, she definitely would."
"I doubt we'll need muggle medicine," she said.
"What if it's a TBI?" she demanded.
"A...what?"
"Traumatic brain injury. Like a concussion."
"Oh. Those things." She checked him. "He's not showing any signs of anything like that. Though, there's signs of an older one," she muttered, doing all the proper tests on him then sighed. "No, this is clearly a magical problem, Miss Granger. Probably a hex."
"That makes him grab his forehead over that scar of his every few days?" she quipped. "Really?"
The nurse looked at her. "What?"
"It does start in his scar. It hurts and he rubs it there," Ron realized. "Huh."
She tested it then grimaced. "That's full of magical miasma I can't get through. That could be the cause however." She went to call someone from the hospital to come look at him. Hermione made notes and had Ron add to them before they got up there. The nurse looked them over, wincing at the full notes. "I haven't seen a bit of this, Mr. Potter."
"You told me I had been hexed in the hallway," he told her. "I knew it wasn't that." The doctor came out. "My friends are very fussy."
"Good friends are," he agreed, taking the notes Hermione took from the nurse to look over. He read them twice then looked at her. "Parents are healers?"
She smiled. "Dentists actually. But I have met many thanks to a Grandmother that had metastasizing breast cancer to her brain. And noted a lot of the same problems she had. Especially the nose bleeds. He nearly passed out on the way up here tonight."
"That's a good reason to worry," he agreed with a nod. "Though I doubt he has breast cancer."
"Ten percent of all breast cancer cases are in men," she said. "The doctor told my father that and recommended he do self checks since it runs in the family."
He blinked. "Good point. I had read that. He's a bit young for that but that's not the only reason for constant nose bleeds either. Thinking the worst..."
"Means you get it checked faster!" she said with a nod.
"Also true." He checked him over. "Hmm, few older health issues," he muttered. The nurse did the charm over his scar and he repeated it himself. "That's very odd. That curse scar is obviously the root of the problem but I'm not sure why or what can be done about it." He frowned. "Let me get Billiams here." He went to call him, getting him nearly immediately since he told him what was going on over the floo.
Doctor Billiams strode over. "Mr. Potter. I went to school with your mother and I had hoped she'd go to medical school so I could study with her." He tested the scar. "That's ... a lot of bad magic. What did she do?" Harry shrugged. "I know you don't know." He tested it a few ways. "That scar's ...filled with magic. It's like it's inhabited. Does it hurt specifically at any given time?"
"He's had a lot when the defense teacher came near him," Ron offered. "Not sure if he's radiating from something he got into maybe? Something on him that's a protection maybe? Though a few I didn't notice that teacher anywhere nearby."
"Hmm. If it's something like a protection that might explain it. Whatever your mother did to protect you is what caused the scar, Harry." He touched it. "It's thin skin too. It's clearly holding the curse that nearly killed you and I think it's leaking."
"Can it be removed before it does kill him?" Hermione asked. "Even by muggle means?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "We can look into that." He did a few other tests then did a general check, raising an eyebrow before looking at the nurse. Who shrugged. Then he looked at the boy. "Who are you living with?"
"My aunt and uncle, and their son," he said quietly. "Mum's sister."
The doctor nodded. "We need to discuss how you have the evidence of nine broken bones, Harry."
He grimaced. "I didn't do it."
"I realize that." He stared at him. "Your mother would've punched them to death," he said quietly. "She nearly did a student one year, her second year. She just wailed on one she caught beating a younger student until he cried and begged for mercy." Harry grinned at that. "Until your dad and his friends walked her off before she killed them." He tested another thing then sighed. "I'm not sure if anything can remove it safely. It'd have to be done with containment," he told Hermione. "So not muggle."
"Do any muggle neurologists know about magic perhaps?"
"Doctors in the family?" he guessed.
She smiled. "Dentists but my grandmum had metastatic breast cancer. All the nosebleeds looked familiar."
"They would," he agreed. "It's not cancer. It's not going to turn into cancer. But if that thing leaks, he's in a world of hurt." He considered it. "I need to ask some of my fellows, Mr. Potter. May I?"
"Please! If it'll stop it." He winced and rubbed. "Oh, gonna be sick." The nurse conjured a bowl in time so he heaved while Ron rolled him onto his side to pat him on the shoulder. Hermione helped by getting him a cool compress from the bathroom. Both doctors looked over at who was coming in. The headmaster.
"Was Quirrel out there?" Ron asked. "Harry reacts to something on him."
"Yes but I had him let me handle it," the headmaster said, looking at him oddly then at the doctors. "Is it a huge accident?"
"No, his curse scar is leaking," Dr. Billiams pronounced. "And it should be excised as soon as we figure out how."
"It was made by the killing curse being stopped, however his mother had done that," Dumbledore told him.
"And it's leaking," Billiams said again. "Which could kill him now instead." The headmaster winced at that. "I'm going to talk to my fellows about how to do that."
"You can't," Dumbledore said. "That's not allowed unless his guardian says so and I doubt they would as I'm his magical guardian."
Hermione looked at him. "No you're not. By the history in the legal books about custody things, his case was specifically noted as an example of how they gave no custody to anyone but expected residency instead." The headmaster glared at her. She summoned the book to show him. "See? He's used as an example."
"I am?" Harry asked, sounding exhausted as Ron helped him back onto his back. She showed him. "I am. That sucks." He read it over. "Then who has legal custody of me?"
She shrugged. "You're in the muggle world. I would expect your aunt had to gain it somehow but according to that perhaps not."
Harry grimaced at her. "I don't want to ask her." She nodded she got that. He looked at the doctor. "Please, share away if it'll make it stop. Because I don't think my parents want to see me soon." Dumbledore moaned at that. "And I'd hate to die. My owl would miss me."
The doctor patted him on the foot. "So would your friends, Mr. Potter. That's what friends are for." Ron and Hermione both nodded they'd miss him. "All right, I'll get their opinion on it, without sharing your identity. We'll see if we can manage something soonish. It may not be until this summer. Not sure if anyone's got a clue, Mr. Potter.
"For now, Nurse Pomfrey, treat the symptoms of blood loss from the constant nose bleeds. He's a bit anemic as well. Document all those prior trauma marks in case it becomes pertinent to his care as it could lead back to that infection in his scar. I'm hopeful it's that." He looked at his coworker, who nodded he was as well. He looked at Hermione. "Go into medicine or law, young lady. You'll do perfectly."
She smiled. "They're both on my possible lists. Mum would be over the moon."
"I would be about my kids following me as well." He shook hands and left to start making notes for a staff meeting.
The first doctor nodded. "I agree, you'll do great. You care, which is half of what we do with patents." He looked at Ron. "For now, if he collapses, get him up here immediately. Watch his food intake, he clearly needs to eat." He looked at Harry, who winced. "And heal. Because he's got a current greenstick fracture in one tibia." Mediwitch Pomfrey tested and moaned, going to get the medicine to fix that. "We'll see what we can do, Mr. Potter. For now, just try to endure and if you get worse, let her call us." He left to go make his own notes. In case the first set got lost somehow. People were weird about Potter.
"Well, it's not as bad as I had feared!" Hermione said quietly but happily. "It's not cancer!"
"Miss Granger!" the headmaster complained. "That does not happen!"
She glared at him. "My grandmother died of brain cancer, Headmaster. I sat with her most days for her last four months to keep her company between treatments and her caretakers helping her." He flinched back. She looked at Harry again. "So it's something that can be fixed."
"It is. We hope," Ron agreed with a nod. "Mum'll be happy to hear that. She might even send cookies."
"She does make nice cookies," Harry said, nodding at them. They both patted him and got out of the nurse's way so she could dose him. "Skelegrow?" he whined.
"Yes, to shore up those former breaks you've had, Mr. Potter. I know it tastes foul." He nodded but did take it. She looked at the other two. "He'll be fine. Go back to your studies."
Ron looked at her oddly. "It's not curfew yet. We'll be good visitors." He grinned.
"Then you're very unlike your big brother Charlie." She walked off to make her own notes. She had a closed drawer file on his prior injuries that she wasn't allowed to report. She carefully made more notes in it then closed it back up. That way no one could ever fault her for not doing her duty but the headmaster had said she could not report it, it'd endanger him further.
"That little visit will cost the school dearly," the headmaster told Hermione.
She stared at him. "I'm sure their fees are nicely high, most specialists are, Headmaster. And I'm sure that Harry has insurance through the muggle system at least."
"Not that way. It could lead to more people looking for him."
She raised an eyebrow. Then she looked at Harry, who looked embarrassed then at him again. "Headmaster, there's certain things that you never take a risk on. Especially of people who need the help. One of them is serious medical conditions that could lead to death. My mother nearly died of a gum abscess when she was my age.
"That's why she became a dentist, after three weeks in the hospital from the infection in her gum leading to a heart problem. A simple popcorn hull got stuck and introduced an infection that spread and nearly killed her one night. I would want no one to go through three weeks of intravenous antibiotics in multiple forms and heart medicines for the next twenty years thanks to that single little popcorn hull. You don't play around with your health."
"I see." He stared at her. "Is that common?"
"Yes. Gum and teeth problems often lead to infections that can infect your sinus cavity or spread to your heart via the same pathway that gangrene takes," Madam Pomfrey said. "It's well known to happen, Headmaster." She looked at Hermione. "I hadn't thought of a popcorn hull but I've had them sticking in my own gums many times so I understand why it happened."
"She thought she got it all out. She hadn't. Then she ignored the small little abscess until she passed out at school one day."
"Yes, that's how it often happens. You think it's minor and it's not," the nurse agreed with a nod. Now she understood this one a bit better and wouldn't chide her for being worried about a friend's health. "Can you see thestrals?"
She raised an eyebrow. "I see a shadow but I didn't get to be in the room when my grandmother died. My parents were but I said my goodbyes the day before when she was comatose that final time."
The nurse nodded, patting her on the arm as she walked past her. "It's always hard when those we love die, dear." She looked at Harry. "I doubt you'll end up there soon. Hopefully not. We'll get that all fixed up." She tested his leg again then nodded.
"We'll get all of that mess straightened out, Mr. Potter, so you quit being anemic and dizzy. For now, rest. Your friends can visit before breakfast." They nodded, leaving him there with a look at Harry, who nodded he was fine. She looked at the headmaster. "They never charge us for an emergency call, Headmaster," she said quietly.
"Others will hear and make comments. It will put undue attention on him."
She raised an eyebrow. "Yes, well, sometimes light is the right thing to kill germs," she said quietly. He sighed as he stomped off. She looked at him. "You have strong friends. Let them help you if they can," she said quietly. He nodded. "Good boy. Don't give me any trouble this time either please." He nodded, letting her tuck him in. She went back to making notes.
Ron looked at Hermione on the way back to their house. "Your grandma died?"
"Yes, Ron. She did." She looked at him. "I was about ten when she died. A few weeks before my birthday. We held it early so she could join us."
He nodded. "I can see that." He punched her on the arm, making her smirk at him. "I have no idea how to handle things like that."
She punched him on the arm with a smirk. "That's a fine one at this time." He nodded at that. They went in together and to their separate rooms.
Ron looked at the guys. "Harry's in the infirmary. His scar's got some sort of infection in it. Had two healers in to look at it. He's also got a broken leg bone." Neville winced at that. "She's dosed him with stuff already." They nodded. He'd feed Hedwig tomorrow for Harry. They all settled in for the night and it was boring but it did give them time to think about their roommate and how an infection happened like that.
***
Hermione got a care package, smiling at it. "Oh, thanks, Mum," she said quietly. She unpacked the few new toothbrushes, one of which wasn't one she liked but she knew her mother favored so she'd kindly gift that to someone. A few new menstrual products. Something nice in a book she hadn't seen yet but by an author she liked to read. And two magazines. She tucked them into her bag for later reading.
Ron looked over. "No sweets?"
"Ron, dentists don't like you to eat too many sweets," she said dryly. "It's bad for your teeth."
"Is that why you got a new toothbrush?"
"Yes. You're supposed to change them about every two months or they get too worn out and won't clean as well." She stared at him. "You do brush your teeth, right?" He grimaced but shook his head. She sighed. "The cleaning spell doesn't do more than surface clean, Ron. It leaves all sorts of grimy germs in your mouth. You'll end up losing all your teeth."
"We don't tend to," Neville admitted.
"Most of us use the spell to clean our breath very infrequently," one of the seventh years said. "And we brush them morning and night."
Hermione smiled and nodded. "Yes, quite. For at least a minute each time if you can I hope?" He nodded, looking patient. "Mum sent me an extra toothbrush if someone wants it."
Ron sighed but took it to put into his bag. "Mum hasn't lost hers."
"Mum has replacement teeth," Percy said quietly, staring at him. "She made sure we didn't follow that path, Ronald." Ron rolled his eyes. "Because she just used the spell." He looked at Hermione. "Your parents are dentists?"
She nodded. "Yes. They deal with all sorts of mouth problems from tooth cleanings to fillings to impacted taste buds and other mouth problems. Or finding a mouth cancer now and then. They're general dentists, not specialist ones like orthodontists."
"That's a good thing. How do muggles replace teeth?"
"We have a fake set that we can put in either a full plate or a partial plate that'll attach to the other teeth around it. Though Mum said they're making news about a permanent one that screws into your jaw bone and then is topped by a fake tooth like you'd see in a denture. They're just coming out apparently. Or there's ways to put on a false veneer but those take grinding down the original tooth to put on and no one really likes those. They're *pretty* but it harms the original teeth."
"That sounds painful," Percy admitted.
"In adults they use a small little drill to carve out cavities, bad spots in your tooth, so they can fill it with a metal epoxy blend," she said. "That's painful to just *listen* to. The drill's whine makes me shudder each time I hear it. On baby teeth they can use some sort of acidic solution but not on adult ones." He shuddered but nodded. "I brush my teeth especially well twice a day every day to make sure I never need to hear the drill in person."
"I can fully understand that. It sounds horrid," Neville admitted. "Why do you brush so long?"
"To make sure you get all the parts: front, sides, backs, top ends. You should be able to sing a full chorus of the national anthem while brushing."
He blinked. "We have a national anthem?"
"Well, then the English anthem, how about that. Or God Save the Queen."
"I don't think we hear that either," he admitted, looking at Percy, who shook his head. "We can find some other song we all like."
"There's a great deal of music in the world," Hermione agreed happily. "Every culture and country has their own native styles as well as more popular ones or ones that cross into multiple styles. My father calls my mother sappy because she loves soft ballads done by heavy metal bands in the 80's."
Neville blinked at her again. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
She sighed. "I'll see if there's some way to find a radio station up here that will play some. We do get the WWN so we have some access to some sort of radio signal."
"But that's an electrical device," Percy said. "Though you're right, we do have radios that run on batteries." He frowned. "How on earth does that work? Is there an exception for radios?" He looked at his head of house, who looked confused. "Professor, how do we have radios if we can't use electrical devices?"
"I have no earthly idea, Mr. Weasley. I don't really deal with devices. Headmaster?"
"I think they're made specially for a high magic environment," he offered.
"Oh, charming."
"Will they pick up regular radio stations?" Hermione asked. The headmaster gave her an odd look. She looked at one who had one, getting a shrug back. "Can we test it? It'd be great to have some studying music."
"Yeah, we can test it tonight. But not everyone will like the same music."
"I know. We'll figure it out somehow. Maybe one per room or something? So those who like one type can be in one room together?"
"That's not a bad idea." She nodded at that. It was a simple solution to that problem and would keep complaining down. She hoped.
Hermione decided to make a list of devices she wanted to see if they made for high magic environments. She did miss her discman and walkman both for studying. She was almost feeling homesick again because she hadn't heard anything musical in quite a while even though her parents adored music around the house instead of the tele.
***
"What is that noise?" Professor McGonagall complained as she walked into a room being used for studying.
"Jazz," one student said, looking at her. "We can't pick up too many stations up here, Professor. But this one is nice and an educational station so they play a good variety."
"It's noisy," she complained. "And annoying."
"They said jazz has been around since the 1920's," another student said, staring at her. "And I can't stand classical music. It puts me to sleep every single time. They could use it as an anesthetic." She glared at him. He stared back. "We all like different things. Jazz is very upbeat and toe tapping."
"It's got a lot of brass instruments," the first student agreed with a nod. "I had no idea what a trumpet is but it sounds neat."
"We can ask someone like Granger."
"Maybe she'd know," the other agreed with a nod, getting back to his homework. The professor stomped off rolling her eyes.
Hermione leaned in a minute later. "She said you were going to ask but I have no idea about music instruments. Sorry. I sucked greatly at trying to play one in music appreciation class." She smiled. "But a trumpet is a smaller brass instrument." She put up a picture. "It's not exact but it looks something like that." They nodded at that. "There's bigger ones, rounder brass instruments, all sorts of instruments out there. Should I ask for a book?"
"We can ask our own," the first kid decided with a grin. "Thanks."
"Welcome." She strolled off. "Filch is coming," she called back.
They turned down the radio but kept doing their homework. The caretaker was a notorious crank about everything.
"That's illegal," he said from the doorway.
"We're allowed wireless systems," the second one said. "So we can hear WWN programming. This is a nearby educational station which has a lot of programs."
"The radio set is not illegal," the first agreed. "But we can ask our head of house if you want." He glared but stomped off to get Dumbledore to stop them. By the time the headmaster came back, the jazz hour was over with and the announcer was talking about upcoming programming.
Including a radio talk show about local politics and then a musical tribute show to a famous musician that was a saxophonist. The kids looked at the radio then nodded when that came on, turning it up some to listen for a minute then got back to work. The headmaster sighed but went to talk to the heads of houses about that. It wasn't *forbidden* but it was annoying.
"Do you listen to jazz?" Professor Flitwick asked as he walked past Granger in the hallway on the way to the meeting.
"Oh, no, Professor. My parents are into rock music." She smiled. "Dad likes classic rock, especially the storytellers and the Carpenters. He had a bit of a crush on Karen Carpenter before she died of that horrible eating disorder she had. Mum likes 80's rock and into lighter heavy metal. I know some about jazz thanks to music appreciation classes each year though. I know it was started in the 1920's in the US, a lot of the artists were black artists, and it was wildly popular for many years."
"I hadn't even heard of it," he admitted. "That's interesting. Thank you, Miss Granger." He went to the meeting to talk about such things. The headmaster was against such things but you couldn't really change what music people liked or were exposed to. They'd just do it in their houses and keep it quiet by making it contraband. He sat down in his seat, nodding at the others.
"I asked Miss Granger when I walked past her. She has not a lot of experience with other forms of music but she said that jazz started in the 1920's in the States, was mostly done by black artists, and was very popular for years. It wasn't something she routinely listened to at home because her parents were into rock music."
McGonagall blinked a few times. "What is rock music?"
"I'm guessing it's more like the Wyrd Systers," Flitwick said.
"Which is still a lot of noise," Dumbledore complained.
"Yes, but modern children listen to modern music. Classical is taught but not expected today," Madam Sprout said happily. "I do like some light rock music myself."
"I remember a few neighbors when I was young liking Fats Domino and the Big Bopper," Snape agreed blandly. "Children listen to whatever is on that their parents like until they're older and discover other types of music. Even ours when there's many fewer types of music to choose from. Each country has their own music styles and the world is getting more and more connected so I'd suppose they were sharing."
Dumbledore grimaced. "I still don't like it."
"The wireless is not banned," McGonagall said. "Mostly so students could listen to the news or important events. Even if you banned it, it'd just become contraband. Much as Mars bars are."
Dumbledore grimaced. "I still do not like it."
Flitwich shrugged. "You can't dictate what the students want to listen to in their free time and we don't have anything like a music class here that would expose them to more the more traditional forms you appreciate, Albus. Many children probably don't listen to classical music anymore."
"The ones I talked to said it put them to sleep," McGonagall agreed. "Called it a good anesthetic."
The nurse giggled. "I keep the wireless in the infirmary tuned to the WWN for news and the like but quietly. Every now and then a student begs to hear something other than some boring old fart chatting about things that they know nothing about to quote most of them."
"That describes the WWN people perfectly," Flitwick agreed with a nod and a huff at the end. "Racist sods." Dumbledore glared at him. "They are and I can prove it. They've done it to me repeatedly." Dumbledore piped down at that reminder.
"Frankly, I see no harm in it, Headmaster. There's little enough for the students to do outside of class if they don't have homework. Snap is boring after the fifth hand in a night. So is solitaire. We have almost no games available. No fun reading unless they brought their own. We do have a nice underground in comic books in Ravenclaw but the students have nothing to do if they're done with their studies for the day."
"I'd rather they have a radio than they pick on the other students or have sexual relations," Snape agreed. "It also gives us something we can confiscate for a few days in punishment. Which would mean their house polices their behavior more strictly as it might affect them."
"Some ignore it totally and let them listen to their set by sitting quietly in the same room," McGonagall said.
"Yes but if I hear I get to confiscate that one as well," Snape shot back. "You're too lax."
"Not hardly," she said, staring at him. He looked away from her because she won all stare downs. She looked at Flitwick then at Sprout, who both shrugged. "Good, then we'll let them listen to the wireless when they're studying."
"I have not agreed," Dumbledore told her.
"You also don't come out of your office to deal with students," she said then smiled. "The only reason you know anything is Filch complained. Again. About things that made no difference to anyone but him." He scowled at her. She stared at him because she won all such stare downs with him as well. He had to look away with a sigh of defeat.
"To be honest, Argus has overstepped himself a few times this year by stopping some students from going to the infirmary when they were ill. It's not up to him to judge if they're faking or not, it's up to the nurse. He should only be concerned if they pass out on his stairs or something. Him complaining about something harmless is almost stereotypical of him."
Dumbledore scowled again. "And you know she's right as he does this all the time about meaningless things," Madam Sprout said. "Including the students having cards for snap or anything fun from home. He complained someone had a poster of all things, one with a unicorn on it. It was pretty but he got offended that it was in pretty colors and had sparkles."
"I'll chat with him about it but they are to keep such noise in their own houses," he ordered.
"I did not truly mind the jazz earlier, though it was a bit loud," McGonagall said. "And I'm the only one that heard it." He rolled his eyes but got up to stomp off in a huff. She looked at the other heads of houses, who nodded they agreed. "We'll talk to the houses this weekend. That way no one else has to have a fit."
Snape snorted. "Are you sure some won't?" He got up. "Let me go back to grading tests." He walked off looking amused at that.
McGonagall went to talk to her house that night. Because it hadn't been her students but they would probably get caught with a radio somehow. None of them were careful. She found Miss Granger showing off how to brush one's teeth. "Miss Granger?" she asked patiently.
"One of the kids asked if she was doing it right, ma'am. She didn't realize you should brush your tongue, the roof of your mouth, or the back of your teeth."
"Oh. Yes, you should. All that can create bad breath if you don't and someday you'll want good breath to kiss someone." The girl nodded at that, making her notes then putting them aside. "Students, rules have been passed down about radio usage. A number of the professors are a bit worried about the noise levels.
"Do try to keep it very quiet when it's not in the house itself and do mediate any disputes about what you're listening to quietly so no teachers have to take a side or confiscate said devices." She looked around. "Understood?" They all nodded. "Thank you." She left, going to make that note for the message board in the house's common room.
One of the upper years looked over. "If we got more than the WWN and two other stations it might help."
"Antennas," one boy said with a grin. "My house has one on the roof to get tele stations." They all stared at him. "I'll ask Da how they work." He wrote a note to him about that to see if it was a good or helpful idea. His father sent back how to make one that would work and how to charm it to gather signals like they had the one on their roof. That gave them a whole lot of stations from the nearest city. Which had a lot of different music.
Hermione walked in one day and smiled. "Oh, the Who! Classic rock. My father likes it." They all stared at it then at the radio, who did indeed say that was the band's name. They settled in to figure out if they liked that. A few thought it was very loud and slightly annoying with some songs but the rest thought it was very upbeat and a bit sinister at times. Which fit the teenagers very well.
They did so love some light rebellion.
***
Pure As Gold, Strong As Brass.