Hermione frowned and thought for a moment. "Sorry, Harry. I can't think of anything right now..."
First-year students simply didn't know enough. They had only been learning magic for two months.
"No rush." Harry waved a hand. "Just focus on recovering."
As he spoke, he stood up.
Hermione's strange sense of déjà vu grew stronger. In an odd tone, she asked, "You're not staying a little longer?"
"You need to rest," Harry said gently.
Hermione nodded, though she looked a little reluctant. "All right. Let me think about it. Once I'm back tomorrow, we can discuss it properly."
Harry hummed in acknowledgment and left with Ron.
Ron looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn't.
No, this wasn't how it was supposed to go.
Madam Pomfrey came over and drew the curtains shut again. "Your two friends are really quite wonderful. If only all Gryffindors could be this quiet..."
She trailed off when she noticed Hermione's expression. The girl's face had scrunched up into a little frown, so Madam Pomfrey hurriedly changed tack. "What's wrong, Miss Granger? Are you feeling unwell?"
There was nothing wrong with her body, but her heart felt uneasy.
Hermione didn't explain. Instead, she tried to smooth her expression. "Madam Pomfrey, do other people visit patients like that, too?"
Madam Pomfrey sighed. "No. They're noisy and boisterous. It gets lively, but this is the Hospital Wing."
"Patients need peace and quiet."
"Stopping by briefly to see how they're doing, then leaving once they know the patient is all right—that's the right thing to do, and it's best for the patient, too."
"All right, Miss. Get some rest now."
With a swish, she stepped outside and drew the curtains closed.
The knot that had just formed in Hermione's heart loosened and disappeared at once after hearing those words.
By Saturday, Hermione had returned to the common room.
The Little Lions gave her some strange looks—complicated, relieved, disbelieving. They were all odd, but at least they no longer ignored her like before.
"What homework did Professor Snape set?" Hermione asked, sitting down beside Harry.
Ron grumbled, "An essay on Swelling Solution, three inches long. Damn it. Harry has to write eight inches, though."
"Hermione, I'm counting on you this time. Please, please help me."
He couldn't copy Harry's essay—the required lengths were different.
And as for copying only the parts that would work—if he was already copying homework, why should he have to figure out which parts were useful and which weren't?
Hermione looked at Ron, her expression calm. "So, do you know how to brew Swelling Solution?"
She had missed class and hadn't seen it for herself, but based on what she knew of Ron, he probably didn't.
Sure enough, Ron's face stiffened. He muttered, "You can't blame me. Fred's secondhand cauldron was leaking. It was poor quality."
"You can borrow my cauldron," Hermione said, lifting her chin. "Of course, if you don't think mine is any good, Harry, would you let Ron borrow yours?"
Harry was writing his essay. Without looking up, he replied, "No problem, Ron. You know where my cauldron is."
Ron gave an awkward laugh but didn't answer. He lowered his head.
Hermione glanced at the other young wizards gathered around the table, gritted her teeth, and stood up. With her one uninjured hand, she smacked the table hard. "This can't go on."
"Ron, you—and the rest of you—you can't keep copying homework like this!"
Her voice was loud. That last sentence wasn't just for Ron; it was for the other first-years, too. Even a few older students nearby turned to look at her.
Seamus frowned. "Granger, aren't you sticking your nose where it doesn't belong?"
"Harry doesn't have a problem with it."
Harry looked up and shot him a cold glance. "It's not that I don't have a problem with it. I just haven't said anything. I was only going to give it to Ron."
"After all, I can make sure he learns those spells."
"But Ron clearly can't withstand all your pleading."
Ron felt guilty. He turned his head away, unable to meet Harry's eyes.
Seamus opened his mouth, but couldn't think of anything to say.
"Copied work isn't really yours," Hermione said. Seeing Harry back her up gave her more courage, and her voice grew firmer. "Finnigan, apart from the Levitation Charm you only learned because Harry helped you last time, can you guarantee you'll be able to cast your other spells successfully every time?"
Seamus's face stiffened.
"Of course, I'm not saying you're completely useless." Hermione copied the tones of Harry and Snape, adding a hint of sarcasm to her voice. "The next time you get into a fight with Slytherin, you can shove your wand up their noses and cast a spell. That way, you can use it as an Exploding Charm."
Seamus's face grew even more unpleasant.
"What about the rest of you?"
"Does Harry have to fight Slytherin alone while you stand by and clap?"
"Gryffindor has only one lion. The rest are kittens." She imitated Malfoy's slick tone.
Ron muttered, "Professor McGonagall's a tabby cat."
"That's because she's an Animagus." Hermione gritted her teeth and shot him a withering look. "Only seven people can do that."
"If you can turn into a cat right now, I'll admit you're a lion, too!"
"Otherwise, shut up."
Ron obediently raised a hand and covered his mouth.
The Little Lions' expressions changed all at once.
They remembered that Flying Class. If it happened again, and things went the same way...
And when they thought about it more carefully, they realized Gryffindor's first-years had been relying entirely on Harry and their disliked Miss Otter to hold things together.
Gryffindor's little kittens.
The thought of that label being pinned on them weighed heavily on their minds. Even Harry's Charms, Transfiguration, and Herbology homework seemed less appealing.
Hermione spread her hands. "If you can live with that, then go ahead and copy. Use the time you save to ask an older student how to become a decent cheerleader."
The Little Lions' faces twisted into awkward expressions.
"You don't want to do your homework? Fine. But at least learn how to cast spells and brew Potions," Hermione said earnestly. "If you can do all that and still don't want to do your homework, I think I can help you."
"Harry probably won't mind, either."
Harry nodded.
After those final words, Hermione sat back down. Her legs felt weak, and her calves were trembling. She had spent the whole day thinking it over, trying to work out a way to fit back into her House that would suit her best.
What she'd said made sense.
But hearing it from Hermione left the Little Lions feeling somewhat unaccustomed to it. Once again, Miss Otter was acting high and mighty and telling them what to do.
"Harry, what do you think?" Seamus asked hesitantly, turning to look at him.
"I think she makes a lot of sense," Harry replied.
Someone had made the call.
The Little Lions consoled themselves with the excuse that "Harry said so," accepted Hermione's proposal, and began counting on their fingers what they did and didn't know before asking her for help.
The other Little Lions lined up, waiting for her guidance.
And just like that, she fit back into Gryffindor.
Once Hermione had dealt with that group of Little Lions, Harry finished his homework and tossed it onto the table. "Well done, Hermione."
"Thanks." Hermione's face reddened a little. "You reminded me."
Then she hurriedly changed the subject. "Let's talk about the trial. Like us, the Slytherins need a password to get in, and the password changes."
"The password isn't a problem." Harry shook his head.
Hermione froze.
Harry raised a hand. "Remember the spell I used on Malfoy? I can use it to make a Slytherin say the password out loud."
Hermione looked puzzled. "Then why don't you just do that?"
"I need to go in and take something." Harry sighed. "And I need to take a Slytherin portrait."
Wizard portraits could talk.
Once he knew the password, he could sneak in wearing the Invisibility Cloak. But if he actually stole the portrait and made a scene...
The little snakes would swarm out. Even he might have a hard time leaving the Slytherin Common Room on his feet.
And even if he did get out, he'd have trouble dealing with Snape and would have to return the portrait.
"What I'm wondering is, is there a way for me to look like a Slytherin student, then take the portrait while pretending to speak on Snape's behalf?"
"The most important thing is being able to take it and still get away."
Hermione frowned. "Look like a Slytherin student? Wait...I have an idea."
She stood and headed for her dormitory. Before long, she came back with a book. "I read about it in Modern Witchcraft Development Encyclopedia."
"Look at this passage."
Harry and Ron leaned over to look.
"...He was a Metamorphmagus, able to change his appearance and form at will. This made him an unstoppable force in his work as an Auror..."
Hermione read the passage aloud. "Harry, maybe you could try learning this magic called Metamorphmagus."
Harry shook his head. "It's something you're born with. You can't learn it later."
Hermione blushed and hurriedly snapped the book shut. Ron reacted quickly enough to keep her from crushing his fingers.
"And even if you could learn it," Harry continued, "it's on the same level as being an Animagus. I couldn't learn it in a short time."
Hermione sighed, disappointed. "All right. Let me think some more."
After thinking for quite a while, she stood up, her voice firm. "We need to go to the library. We won't come up with a good idea sitting here."
"Come on, it's the weekend," Ron said, sounding reluctant. "And it's already late."
Hermione looked at Harry.
"Tomorrow," Harry said. "You just got out of the Hospital Wing."
Hermione obediently sat back down.
"Hermione, let me ask you something. Do you know what the Sorcerer's Stone is?" Ron sat up straight, his tone serious.
Hermione looked confused. "The Sorcerer's Stone? I don't know... Why are you asking?"
Ron lowered his voice mysteriously. "The Sorcerer's Stone might be hidden on the fourth floor."
"So what? That's a restricted area. We don't need to worry about what's inside." Hermione was completely unconcerned.
Ron lowered his voice even further. "Quirrell might be trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone."
"Who?" Hermione's eyes widened as she stared at Ron in shock.
Ron hurriedly tugged at her sleeve. "Keep your voice down."
"Oh, no, I'm just surprised." Hermione lowered her head, too, and leaned toward Harry. "How could it be Professor Quirrell? Even if it were a professor, shouldn't it be Professor Snape...?"
Harry rubbed his forehead helplessly. "Why do you have such a huge misunderstanding about Professor Snape?"
"It's true, Hermione."
"Dumbledore and I both confirmed it."
Hermione relaxed and glared at Ron. "If the headmaster already knows, then it's even less our concern. The most important thing right now is Harry's trial!"
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