The Darkwood Wand

Time

Hermione woke with a gentle thump in her own bed. She stretched luxuriously—she'd been having the most delicious dream, all sweetness and softness and warmth and safety. She ran a hand up her ribs, almost purring like a cat. Mmmmm ... a few more nights like this and she'd be caught up on her sleep.

She wanted to burrow back under her bedcovers, perhaps capture that dream again, but she could hear Crookshanks on the desk, knocking over objects to protest another nighttime disappearance. She sat up and waved a hand to light a nearby lamp.

"Crooky!" she hissed through the half-open curtains. "Stop that! You'll knock off the ..."

The Astrarium clock.

Hermione stared at the rune-carved box teetering on the edge of her desk. The clock was in her bed when Malfoy first cast that horrid spell. A time-based spell. On a broken magic clock.

Oh no.

She scrambled out of the bed and opened the box, ignoring Crookshank's mews for attention. The clock was in terrible shape thanks to Malfoy's antics, with its dented dials and little pile of spheres. Time-based magic relied on heavenly bodies, and the Astrarium clock's faulty sun, moon and planets had likely confused Malfoy's Vanishing Spell. No wonder its timing was running wild. Hermione closed the wooden box, frowning. Temporal magic was insanely intricate; they might never figure out where the spell went wrong.

A thump at the window made her nearly drop the box; she closed it and set it back on the desk. Then she unlatched the pane, shivering in the cold night air. A small white owl, so fat and fluffed with feathers it looked like a Pygmy Puff with wide wings, zoomed inside and bounced onto the sofa. Hermione had a hard time finding the bird's leg among all the down, but finally she extracted a small package and scroll. Harry's handwriting. She looked at the mantle clock: 6 a.m. Aurors did start the day early.

She sent the owl off with a treat and dropped into an armchair to read:

Hermione,

Watch yourself with the ferret. Drop Divination if you have to—nobody needs eight NEWTs. Here's a Sneakoscope, we have a ton of them lying around here and they're always going off. Stay away from any snakes. I've heard about that transfer student from Durmstrang. I'll check into his trial. He and the ferret are probably scheming together.

Harry

Hermione rolled her eyes. Only Harry could fit so much ridiculousness in a few sentences. She wasn't dropping Divination or carrying around a Sneakoscope and staying away from Slytherins literally wasn't an option. Honestly, he sounded as mad as Ginny.

Harry's warnings still echoed, however, and she found herself stepping up to her Foe-Glass, its round mirror askew on a tarnished brass stand. She'd found it on the floor of the Room of Requirement early in the school year and brought it upstairs with a vague idea of restoring it. Previously the Foe-Glass had held only the faintest of shadows, denoting enemies weak and far away, but now a darker shadow lurked behind a small web of cracks. Had that been there before?

Maybe it's Malfoy, Hermione thought. She'd have to tell him about the Astrarium clock and he wouldn't be pleased.

Oh, well. She grinned into the Foe-Glass and her distorted image grinned back rather menacingly. A good thing I wasn't put on this earth to please Draco Malfoy.

***

"Hello, Hermione."

She paused at the Hufflepuff table, surprised by Justin Finch-Fletchley's approving tone. The Head Boy generally approved of very little around him. He was, however, always polite and willing to help others. Of course, that help usually came with a healthy dose of condescension, but he meant well.