Blindness

Chapter 22: A Maroon Mix of Metal and Magic

It did not occur to her until she was halfway up the steps leading into Hogwarts that it was the week for the magical school's exams.

It was such an odd, random thought. Her own exams were not for another month, and she had never taken exams at Hogwarts, but she remembered clearly reading her first class schedule of her first year, the week of exams highlighted in bold underscore.

She had been excited, especially then, at the thought of proving herself. She loved exams, loved the mental test of them, the tenacity it took to come out on top. Each exam was proof of her own self-worth; proof that she deserved the gifts she had been born with.

That fervor had faded, a little, in the last years. She had other things in her life that built her confidence. She did not have to see a high score to know she was brilliant.

But she hadn't forgotten. If things had been different, this week would have been the week she took her N.E.W.T.'s. She would be graduating from Hogwarts with her peers, prepared to move onto a job or apprenticeship of her choosing.

Instead, she was preparing to enter a medical program at a mundane college, while taking select N.E.W.T.'s at the Ministry-given exams to gain entrance into a basic Healer or Potion apprenticeship.

She never would have imagined the life she lead would have been hers. Not when she entered Hogwarts bright-eyed for the Sorting, and not when she left it broken and battered from the troll.

Hermione turned towards the Headmistress' office, the empty halls echoing with her footsteps. She was alone; knowing she would be apparating straight to the edge of the warded grounds, she had seen little purpose to bringing Fallon along with her. It felt odd, being alone. Even the students were gone, in one class or another.

Who took over transfiguration classes when McGonagall took the Headmistress position?

Hermione paused at the entrance to the Head Office, the large gargoyles that guarded the entrance raised back in mid-flight, the passageway open.

Headmaster Dumbledore never left the passageway open. It appeared McGonagall didn't feel the same way.

She jogged up the stairs, coming to the simple wooden door, where she knocked briskly.

When she opened the door, she expected surprise. She hadn't owled ahead, after all, too impatient to wait a day longer for the post to arrive.

She should have known better. No one could enter Hogwarts' grounds now without an alarm somewhere being raised.

Hogwarts was not the same school as it had been when she resided there. She was a much more guarded fortress under McGonagall's lion eyes.

"Miss Granger. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

The witch's gaze was a mixture of kindness and curiosity. Hermione had always respected the Head of her House.

"I hope I'm not bothering you."

The witch waved a hand in dismissal. "I find I have more time at this job than I ever did as a Head and professor. Most tasks are delegated."

Hermione nodded, and sat when prompted, her hands winding together as she went over the rehearsed question in her mind.

"Headmistress. I'm looking for a particular artifact, one that was said to reside here at Hogwarts. The Mirror of Erised. Have you heard of it?"

The woman's face dropped into a frown.

"I have. It's kept hidden, for the student's safety. What need do you have for it?"

Hermione leaned back in her chair, prepared. "I'm researching the longevity of various spelled inanimate objects. How any ward structures or charms might fragment or fade over time, especially as the object travels and interacts with multiple people. The Mirror of Erised is unique, and yet also fairly benign. I figure it would make a good test subject for a brief period of time."