Born From Madness (Harry Potter Fanfic)

12

Percy led them all up to a portrait of a lady in a bright pink dress. 

"Password?" she asked. 

"Caput Draconis." Percy replied. The portrait nodded before swinging on her hinges and opened to the dorms. Percy led the way in before telling everyone where they needed to go. Hermione hurried over to her dorm room where she quickly changed into her PJs and headed to bed. She had thought she had eaten too much because she had a strange dream. 

She was sitting at the head of a long table, dressed in the finest emerald silk dress queens and kings would wear to fancy parties and with her hair done up with jewels and such. She felt wrapped around her neck was a strange locket. On each side of the table were people she knew and didn't know. There was Rose, Dorothy, Sophia, and Blanche, her grandma and parents on one side while the other sat the Dark Wizards she read about such as Fenrir Greyback, Scabior, and Barty Crouch Jr. They were all toasting her with goblets of mead, fire whiskey, and butterbeer. At the end of the table, she could see the woman named Betty White sitting with a goblet raised in the air with an older man sitting right beside her lightly clapping his hands. Hermione could feel herself smiling as she shook her head. 

"Hermione... it's time... it's time..." a voice spoke up to her. 

Hermione jolted up into a sitting position, breathing harshly, while sweat dripped down her forehead. She turned onto her side where she proceeded to try to sleep while her mind raced, wondering what exactly did the dream mean by 'it's time'. 

Throughout her first week, Hermione did her best to not get into trouble. She was determined to not lose their house any points no matter what. It was a little confusion with the way things were set up. Luckily, Hermione woke up early to avoid being tardy for each of her class. She was glad she did given that some of the other options weren't exactly the best. If you were to ask Peeves he would only led you down another path. Except for Hermione. The moment she rounded the corner, she found Peeves messing around and when he saw her, he screamed at the top of his lungs and went flying away. The caretaker, Filch, wasn't any help at all. She accidentally got on his wrong side when she found herself on the third floor in the area. She tried to explain the mistake but he wouldn't listen. What's worse is he got even more made when his cat, Mrs. Norris, decided instead of hissing like she was rumored to do, to pet herself against Hermione's legs and purr. 

She enjoyed most of her classes. History of Magic was fun but the teacher Professor Binns wasn't someone she quite enjoyed. He was extremely dull and made her almost fall asleep. She also enjoyed learning about the night skies with their telescopes every Wednesday and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Hermione loved the greenhouse where they study Herbology with a witch named Professor Sprout and learned how to care for the strange plants and fungi and their usages. Charms was another Hermione enjoyed, taught to them by a man named Professor Flitwick. 

But Hermione's favorite was Transfiguration. Mostly because out of all the teachers, Professor McGonagall didn't have favorites and didn't treat anyone special. Especially Harry, who got a lot of attention. Hermione loved being able to transform appearances to an object, and she loved the fact that if you could do it in class then you wouldn't have to worry about doing homework. Part of her dreaded that part, but she did enjoy feeling accomplished, which Ron made every effort to show her he was jealous that she could do it on her first try. 

The Defense Against the Dark Arts was something Hermione was looking forward to but Quirrell, who turned out to be the man Hermione ran into at the pub the day she went to collect her things, was a bit of a joke to put it nicely. His room smelled strongly of garlic, which was suppose to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid it would come to get him. He also told stories, Hermione felt were a bit of made up tale he said to make himself seem more interesting. 

Friday soon came and Hermione was in the Great Hall for breakfast, where she waited till the time came for Double Potions with Professor Snape. Hermione didn't know why but he gave her more creeps than any of the other professors there. While she was eating, mail began to arrive. Hundreds of owls flew down. Hermione watched as a bright red owl came fluttering towards her and dropped a letter on her lap. Hermione pulled it open and saw it was a letter from the gamekeeper Hagrid. 

Dear Hermione, 

I know we haven't had the pleasure of meeting, but I get a letter from your Grandma Elka, an old friend of mine, asking if I could keep an eye out for you. I know you have Friday afternoons off, so I thought maybe you'll like to have a cup of tea with me around three? Send me an answer back with the owl. 

Hagrid. 

Hermione borrowed a quill and scribbled yes, please, see you later on the back of the note and sent the owl off again. She was actually grad she agreed because Potions turned out to be the worst and weirdest thing to happen so far. 

The moment Snape finished roll call, he paused at Harry's name. 

"Ah, yes," he said, "Harry Potter. Our new-- celebrity." 

Hermione could see Draco and his idiot friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape soon finished calling names and look at the class. 

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making." He began with a voice that demanded to be respected, "as there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death-- if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." 

Silence fell over the crowd. Hermione was on the edge of her seat to learn about potions but she felt Snape was a bit harsh here and there. 

"Potter!" Snape suddenly called on Harry, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?" 

Hermione shot her hand into the air almost at the second Snape had finished speaking his question. Harry was bewilder like he had no clue of what Snape even had said along with Ron, who looked stumped. 

"I don't know, sir." Harry replied. 

"Tut, tut-- fame clearly isn't everything." Snape mocked Harry, "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" 

Hermione stretched her hand as high as she could, wondering why Snape wasn't even picking on her. She knew the answer yet he wasn't even batting an eye at her. Like she was invisible to him or something. 

"I don't know, sir." Harry repeated. 

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Snape shot at Harry. Hermione couldn't help but wonder what did Snape have against Harry, who seemed like a nice guy. Dumb, but a nice guy. 

"What is the differnce, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape asked. This time, Hermione found herself standing up on her tip-toes, her hand a foot or two away from the ceiling. 

"I don't know," Harry said, "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?" 

A few people laugh at Harry's comeback, but Snape seemed really upset. Snape glided from the front of the room towards their desk. 

"Sit down, I already know you have a clue of what's going on, given who your Grandmother is." he snapped at Hermione. Hermione sat down so fast she nearly push the chair away, feeling like a poor pup being scowled out. She couldn't help but take notice how he mentioned her Grandma. Did he know her somehow?

"For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?' 

Hermione had already copied most of what he had said as she listened to the people around her struggle to grab their quills and inks. While she wrote, she couldn't help but keep thinking that Snape knew her Grandma. However, she couldn't possibly see her Grandma hanging out with someone like Snape. Elka wouldn't... right?