Year 5 - Stockholm

Chapter 2

Terms of Agreement

Two days into term and Hermione was furious.

The Ministry of Magic, in their ignorant fear of Dumbledore, forced a new professor to assume the position as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor: Dolores Umbridge. It rendered the class into a Kindy class. They supplied textbooks juvenile in writing and application. It boiled Hermione's blood to hold it as a serious classroom resource. She read through the text. Twice. It was a joke.

Dolores Umbridge was the worst professor to enter Hogwarts. Including the fraud, Lockart. And Quirrel whom had Voldemort living within his skull!

Hermione set about a nice quiet space to do her own personal studies on the subject. Books from the library would provide adequate instruction. As long as she understood the spells in every educational way given, she would be more knowledgeable than the average fifth year in terms of defense.

She asked Harry and Ronald to join, but they declined.

Things were tense between the trio. The year before had been difficult for them all, but it impacted Harry the worst of all. He watched someone die. A traumatic thing all on it's own, but it was not the height of the nightmares that he endured in that graveyard. Voldemort was given life once more. From the blood of Harry birthed his enemy to flesh.

Cedric's slaying and Voldemort's rise left him a panicked mess. Most days he retreated to his own place, whether it was literal or mental, and tolerated zero disturbances, even from his best friends.

Hermione chewed her lip. Some days she questioned his coping. There were times when his eyes burned with such fury that she thought he'd embraced a much darker view of the world than they all believed in. That perhaps Voldemort had won over Harry just by the exposed evil possible in a world already so cruel.

She'd hoped that a return to Hogwarts would help. If anything, it was worse.

Gryffindor Tower was a edgy place. The question of Dumbledore and Harry tore apart the place in a battleground of belief and fear, fear over what awaited the world with the news of Voldemort's return and the true separation of magic.

It was all too much for her. She needed some bit of semblance. Thus, old defense books filled with actual, useful information.

An abandoned part of the castle provided a shortcut to the grounds. It was left unbothered. Nothing resided in the part of the castle, parts were in utter ruin, too. Students opted to walk around in more pretty background. Hermione did not mind.

Torch sconces lit her way. Her steps echoed throughout the stone corridor. Portraits lined the walls of that part of castle. They greeted her with soft voices as she walked.

The afternoon light was blocked by the other part of the castle. Light only extended to the sconce ahead. It casted eerie shadows. They started to play tricks on her mind like another set of echoing steps as she walked through.

Darkness was a muggle fear. She worried about boogeymen in shadows ready to kidnap or rape her in Muggle streets. It was irrational. The fears instilled in her mind from childhood were hard to lose.

Still, she felt goosepimples race up the backs of her arms and down her spine. Sounds and light melted together. They became one as they toyed with her. She gasped when she brushed against a cold stone wall.

Her heart pounded in its bone cage as she pressed forward, deeper into the bowels of ruined sections of the castle perfect for hiding fugitives and invaders. The torches stopped. Her path drenched in pitch black as she stared on the edge of the abyss.