Hermione Granger and the Year Hidden from Hogwarts

Chapter 13

Hermione Granger and the Year Hidden from Hogwarts

Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter 13

A/N: Another chapter! Procrastination at writing on my paid stories is in full swing. I'm supposed to have my next book—also a ghost-seeing teenaged girl with a harem of boys—ready by July, but Hermione's story is talking too loud right now to concentrate! So, enjoy that while it lasts! On that note, if you like my style, enjoy reverse-harems with plot, action, and suspense, check out some of my original stories on miasmantz.com. All of my books can be read for free if you subscribe to Kindle Unlimited, so it's a great way to support me.

And without further ado, here's the next chapter! There's a parallel here to the Philosopher's Stone. Can you spot it?

October 31st, 1991

Hermione tweaked the flow of energy to find that pale golden color—sorry, light straw, according to the new reference guides Ms. Walker paid a hefty sum to have painstakingly produced—and used it to lift the ostrich feather from the table in front of her.

It wasn't about trying to lift something heavy, not today at least, but about controlling the movement and direction of the item—a test in dexterity rather than strength.

"Now, send it through the hoops if you will, Miss Granger. Your record is thirty seconds. Let's see if you can beat that today before they bring in Subject 202."

Hermione nodded, still trying to get used to how to move an object in three dimensions. It was a lot different than walking—a rather two-dimensional exercise, one-dimensional if you considered the dreaded treadmill, that she hadn't realized until she had to start adding in the height factor of altitude to her depth perception.

Charles timed her with his trusty stopwatch as she blundered her way through the "Hoop Loop" as she'd coined after it'd been introduced as the circuit of hoops.

She did not beat her record, but she did manage to bump her feather into the rings a lot less.

They brought in Erkling, only unlocking his cage remotely once he was safely inside the containment unit. He'd nearly escaped one day, so great was his desire to come after Hermione, that they'd had to reconfigure their procedures to prevent any future breakouts.

Hermione watched as they unloaded him, yelling and screaming about wanting to eat, all the while staring at her.

She tried her best not to imagine the missing Russian children that had lost their lives to this creature. Even if she had the ability to touch him, she wouldn't have. Her psychometry skills would've read the murder on him in an instant, something they'd discovered by accident when helping out on a police case. She'd tripped while walking through the brig at the Scotland Yard, and a man who'd been there for a speeding citation had reached out to catch her arm. He was now sitting behind bars because she'd been able to describe the deaths and victims to such great detail to perfectly mass three of their open cases ruled as unconnected homicides. When their paradigm shifted to looking into connected serial killings, the detectives had been able to find the proof they'd needed.

It was an entirely unpleasant experience that Hermione didn't wish to repeat any time soon, especially with Erkling and the missing children. That was better left vague.

"You know," Hermione began, studying the brown—sorry, dark earth color swirling around Erkling's mouth as he yelled and raged. "I was thinking that since we've hit sort of a dead end with this guy, what if we reached out to Dr. Wang to have him bring back Invisibilis? He had a purplish color I'm trying to replicate, but my memory's not the best for pulling up the exact shade he used for his invisibility."