Let The Dark In

6

“Miss Granger.”

Headmaster Dumbledore’s voice is one of the last things Hermione expects to hear in the library in the middle of a Saturday afternoon. The Headmaster of Hogwarts has always been prone to absence and even when he is in the castle, Hermione can count on one hand the number of occasions in which he’s stopped to address her personally.

She looks up and finds him standing across from her table, his eyes scanning the titles of all the books piled high around her. She jumps to her feet, rapidly neatening her scattered notes and tucking her hair behind her ears and trying to seem presentable.

“Headmaster,” she says. Normally she wouldn’t be nervous, but she’s anxious to make a good impression today, in the hopes that it will make amends for whatever it is she’s done that made him so strangely disapproving ever since he read her name out as Hogwarts’ champion.

Since her lakeside conversation with Malfoy, Hermione’s spent most of her time in the library, barricaded behind a wall of reference books and fueled by the same indignant pride that prompted her to enter her name in the tournament in the first place. She has a fiery sense of determination to beat Malfoy and then rub her victory in his pale face.

But as the days and hours in the library have rolled by, even within the solace of the library, her outrage has steadily burned itself into embers as she’s stonewalled.

Now, reality has set back in.

Her research in preparation for the Second Task is stalled because the Merge School in the Middle East holds almost all the books and resources on underwater spellage and unfortunately, their library is private. Like most subjects not taught at Hogwarts, it’s a private summer curriculum.

Hermione can’t help but think that if Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Warlock of England’s Wizengamot and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, were to request a book on behalf of a student, a Triwizard Champion, that possible exceptions might be made.

The fact that Dumbledore has appeared in the library and is speaking to her seems serendipitous, maybe it’s a sign that he’s taking an interest in supporting her as champion.

She smooths away the wrinkles in her skirt as she looks expectantly at him.

He’s not looking at her though. He seems more interested in her research than Hermione herself. His eyes move across the table, pausing to read the title of each book in every stack. Finally, his gaze stops on her.

“These are some very dark books you’re looking at.”

She looks around at them. They are, admittedly, mostly from the Restricted Section but they have very little dark material and what they do contain is only general information, not the actual incantations or rituals or even the ingredient lists for how to do any of the dark magic they describe. Not that Hermione was looking for those types of things specifically, but it’s obvious in the text that none of the books explain the intricacies of the Dark Arts in ways that are intended to be utilised practically.

“Professor McGonagall gave me special permission to research for the Second Task, Sir,” she says.

He nods slowly. “Yes.” There’s another painfully long silence as he stares at her. “You seem to often get special permission slips for the Restricted Section.”

Hermione freezes and for an instant, her heart stops too. Everything seems to pause for a moment and then suddenly it's vivid and rushing past. Her chest tightens as she looks around at her books again. “Well,” she falters, “I like to know about things.”

Dumbledore raises his eyebrows. “Particularly Dark Magic it seems. If the library’s records are to be believed.”

She bristles. It’s a gut reflex after years of Harry and Ron’s disapproval about her curiosity. Of being told that some things shouldn’t be known, that they aren’t worth knowing, that it's better not to. But she bites back all the things she’s said to her friends and speaks carefully.