Harry Potter: Friendship is Magicby AniskyChaptersChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 1Harry Potter: Friendship is Magic Part 1: The Flyer from Death Author: Anisky Concept by spikeslashrarity Description: Hermione Granger is Dumbledore's private student, and she much prefers books to friends. But when she discovers an ancient prophecy predicting that Lord Voldemort will rise in two days, instead of taking action, Professor Dumbledore tells Hermione to supervise the preparations for the End of Term feast- and to make friends? Disclaimer: I own nothing having to do with My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic or Harry Potter. I am not making money off this in any way and am just writing it for fun! -- Chapter 1 Once upon a time, in Magical Britain, there was a mentor and his student, who used their magical abilities to create harmony in all the land. To do this, the older mentor used his powers of protecting and happiness during the day. The younger found his powers were much stronger at night. Thus, the teacher and his pupil maintained balance throughout Britain. But as time went on, the younger wizard became angry and resentful. He feared Death greatly, and had heard that his mentor knew the secret to becoming the Master of Death. However hard he begged his teacher to tell him how to defeat Death, however, his teacher refused. The teacher said that all beings must die, that it was the natural order of things. One day, the young student refused to use his powers of night to protect the wizards of Britain. He blamed the Muggleborns for his teacher's refusal to help him escape Death, reasoning that if there were not Muggles in the world who lived and died, then perhaps wizards would not see death as something natural and inevitable. Without Muggles and Muggleborns, he believed, wizards would see the wisdom in becoming immortal. The elder mentor tried to reason with him, but the bitterness in the young one's heart turned him into an evil Dark Wizard- Lord Voldemort! He vowed that he would rid the Wizarding World of all Muggleborns, and free himself from death. Reluctantly, the elder mentor harnessed the most powerful magic known to wizards: The Horcruxes of Harmony! Using the magic of the Horcruxes of Harmony, he defeated his young protege, and banished him to Albania permanently. The elder teacher took responsibility for both day and night, and Harmony has been maintained in Wizarding Britain ever since. -- Hermione stared at her book, smoothing out one of the pages distractedly as she thought. "Hmm, Horcruxes of Harmony," she said slowly. "I know I've heard of those before... but where?" But no matter how she thought, she couldn't seem to remember the answer. She sighed, and shut her book. The school year had just ended, and her final exams had been finished several days ago, but Hermione always loved to study. Besides, something was telling her that this was important. She had to go to the library to find out more. Hermione had just finished her third year of magical education. Though she lived and studied at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she didn't attend classes and live in a House the way most of the students did. Instead, she was Dumbledore's private pupil, and under his tutelage she was set to become one of the most powerful witches in all the world. Not being in a Hogwarts House made it difficult to socialize, but this suited Hermione Granger perfectly. She would much rather read books than make friends, and being that strange, brainy Muggleborn who didn't attend any of the normal classes or sit at the normal House tables made it easy to avoid everyone who might try befriending her. She burst into the library, throwing the door open so quickly that it knocked an elf off his feet. Hermione didn't notice him at first, so she called, "Dobby! Dobby?" Then she spotted him lying on the floor. "Oh, there you are! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hit you with the door!" Back when Hermione had first heard of House Elves, she'd been horrified that Hogwarts used creatures that way- it was like slave labor! She had tried to convince Headmaster Dumbledore to give them wages and vacation, but though her beloved Headmaster was willing, the house elves were insulted by the offer. Hermione had kept trying to free them, until the elves were frightened and resentful of Hermione. In an attempt to smooth over relations between Hermione and the elves, Dumbledore had assigned Dobby to be her assistant. Dobby was a free elf, who received wages and vacation, so he and Hermione got on very well. She figured that his presence in Hogwarts would show the other elves the benefits of freedom, and Dobby was happy to have a "mistress" who respected him as a free elf. "It is okay, miss," Dobby said. "Dobby is not being badly hurt." "Oh, good. Then could you find me that copy of Prophecies of the 20th Century?" Hermione asked. "Miss is wanting more books?" Dobby asked. "But miss is on a break! Miss has finally completed all her exams!" Hermione ignored the house elf's point. He knew that she never stopped studying over the summer. What else would she do, if she weren't studying, anyway? She flew around the library, searching through all the different books. "No, no, no no no!" she exclaimed. She grew increasingly frustrated as she went through the books, but she still placed them carefully back on the shelf when she had looked at them. Books were precious, after all, no matter how angry she was she would treat them with respect! "The book is here, miss!" cried Dobby. "Oh, thank you, Dobby!" said Hermione, snatching the book from his outstretched hands. She sat down to flip through it. "Horcruxes, Horcruxes, H, H, H... here it is, the Horcruxes of Harmony. See the 'Flyer from Death'. The Flyer from Death?" Hermione repeated aloud, sounding incredulous. "That sounds like the grim reaper is handing out brochures for the afterlife or something." Dobby stared at Hermione blankly. "Miss?" She sighed. "Dobby, have you heard of the Flyer from Death?" "Yes miss, Dobby has heard of him, but Dobby is told it is just an old witch's tale!" Hermione frowned and flipped to the index. "It's in Prophecies of the 10th Century. Accio!" She pointed her wand at the book shelf, and the desired book flew towards her. She searched the pages until she found what she was looking for. "A prophecy, made by the seer Pinkamina Diane in the late 10th century. It's still on file in the Hall of Prophecy, but has never been labeled, as they are still unsure to whom the prophecy refers. "According to her prediction, the Flyer from Death would be a powerful Dark Wizard who will try to rule Great Britain, but is banished before he succeeds. But, on the longest day of the thirteenth year of his banishment, the stars will align, and a rat will aid in his escape- a rat?" Hermione repeated, blinking in surprise at the page. "Well, the magical world is strange sometimes... a rat will aid in his escape, and he will return to conquer Magical Britain once more." Hermione gasped as all the pieces came together in her head. "Dobby, do you know what this means?" "No," Dobby said. She paced the library as she thought. "I must send a letter to Dumbledore right away!" "But, is miss sure that is a good idea?" asked Dobby tentatively. "The Headmaster is being very busy now, to prepare for the End of Term Feast." "That's just it, Dobby! The Flyer from Death must be Lord Voldemort! That's what 'vol de mort' means in French! But the longest day of the thirteenth year... that's the day after tomorrow! We can't wait until after the End of Term Feast, there's not enough time!" Hermione grabbed her quill and inkwell out of her bag, as well as a piece of parchment, and set about writing to the Headmaster. My Beloved Teacher (she wrote), My continuing studies have lead me to discover that we are on the BRINK of DISASTER! For you see, the ancient prophecy about the Flyer from Death is in fact about Lord Voldemort, and he's about to return to Great Britain, to conquer the Magical World once more! Something must be done to make sure that this terribly prophecy DOES NOT come true! Please reply as soon as possible, it is of the utmost importance! Your faithful student, Hermione Granger She blew lightly on the ink to dry it, then rolled it up. "Come on, Dobby! To the owlery!" Dobby followed her reluctantly, saying things like, "Is miss sure that this is a good idea?" and "The Headmaster, he is so busy Miss Hermione, is miss sure this cannot wait for a few days?" "Yes, Dobby, I'm sure! This is important, much more important than the end of term feast!" "If you say so, Miss," Dobby said doubtfully, as Hermione attached the letter to an owl's leg and sent him off to the headmaster. "Oh, I'm not worried, Dobby," she assured her assistant. "Professor Dumbledore trusts me completely. In all the years he's been my mentor, he's never once doubted me." The house elf looked skeptical, but they'd only been waiting a minute when the owl flew back and landed on Hermione's shoulder with a hoot. There was a letter tied to his leg. "See, Dobby?" Hermione said smugly as she gave the owl a treat and opened the letter. "I knew he would realize the dire nature of this situation." She lowered her eyes to read the letter. My dear student Hermione, You know that I have faith in your marvelous ability and dedication, and that I trust you completely. But you simply must stop reading those dusty old books! Hermione gasped and dropped the parchment. WHAT?! Chapter 2Harry Potter: Friendship is Magic Part 1: The Flyer from Death Author: Anisky Concept by spikeslashrarity Chapter 2 As Hermione dejectedly trudged down the stairs from the Owlery, Dobby read the letter that Professor Dumbledore had sent to her. "My dear Hermione," he read, "There is more to a young witch's life than studying! With this in mind, I've decided to charge you with overseeing the preparations for the Hogwarts End of Term feast. As well as making sure the feast goes smoothly, I have an even more essential task for you: Make some friends!" Hermione Granger groaned. She'd already read the letter, of course, and hearing it again just made her want to sink into the ground. "Miss Hermione, it is not that bad, Dobby does not think!" said the House Elf. "It is only lasting for a day or two." "But Dobby!" Hermione cried. "He said he wants me to stop reading books and start making friends! What if he decides I shouldn't be his personal student anymore? What if he makes me put on the Sorting Hat and join one of the houses, and take classes with all the other students?" "Miss," Dobby said comfortingly, "Headmaster Dumbledore has not written he will do that! If miss just makes some friends, Dobby is sure that the Headmaster will not be wanting to stop tutoring his best student!" "Or," Hermione said, brightening, "if I prove that I'm right! I'll take care of all the preparations as fast as I can, and then I'll go to the library to find more books and find definitive proof that Voldemort is returning!" "But then when will miss make friends?" Hermione tossed her head as they got to the bottom of the stairs and stepped into the corridor. "Professor Dumbledore told me to supervise the preparations for the End of Term feast, and of course I'll do what my teacher and mentor tells me. "But the fate of Magical Britain does not depend on me making friends," Hermione concluded, with a scoff. Dobby frowned. "Like I said," Hermione said, "if I just show Professor Dumbledore that I'm right about Voldemort coming back, then he'll see how important my studies really are, and forget all about the stupid friendship thing. When he realizes that making me make friends would have allowed the worst Dark Wizard in history to rise again, there's no way he'll make me join a House or attend classes!" "But maybe if Miss Hermione is getting to know the other students, she will be liking them!" Dobby suggested. "Many of the Hogwarts students are interesting!" Hermione didn't look like she put much faith in this suggestion, but Dobby was persistent. A young wizard, with extremely bright red hair and freckles, was walking down the hallway cheerfully. Dobby pushed Hermione closer to her fellow student. "Please Miss, just try?" he said. She sighed. "Uh... hello?" she said to the redheaded wizard. The boy's jaw dropped, and he gasped at Hermione, loudly and dramatically. "UHHHHHHHH!" Then he took off running down the hallway, fast as he could. "Well, that was interesting, all right," she muttered to Dobby, her low opinion of the other students at Hogwarts clearly just reinforced. Dobby looked sad. His plan to help his mistress do as the Headmaster said and make some friends wasn't going very well. It seemed hopeless. But Dumbledore was an amazing wizard, maybe he knew something that Dobby didn't. "So what's first on this overseer's checklist?" Hermione asked impatiently, snatching the letter from Dobby and reading it. "Banquet celebrations. I guess we're going to the kitchens." As they entered the kitchens, dozens of house elves and one young wizard were all hard at work preparing the feast. When he saw Hermione and Dobby enter, the young wizard came to greet them. "Hi, I'm Neville!" he said. "I'm Hermione Granger, and I'm overseeing preparations for the End of Term Feast. You're in charge of the banquet?" "I sure am! I'm happy to meet you, Hermione. I love to make friends!" "Er," she said. "Here in the kitchen, we've been working nonstop to make it the best End of Term Feast in Hogwarts history. Care to sample some?" he asked. "Well," she said, "as long as it doesn't take too long." Hermione jumped as Neville rang a loud bell. "Alright, everyone!" he yelled. "Hermione wants to sample all the food for the feast!" "Well, I don't think all the food-" she started to say, but her voice was drowned out by the clattering as dozens of house elves grabbed every kind of food imaginable and piled it on the table in front of her. "This here's the roast beef, roast chicken, fried sausages, stew, casserole, shepherd's pie, steak, Cornish pasties, lamb chops, sausages, steak and kidney pudding, steak and kidney pie, black pudding, crumpets, roast potatoes, jacket potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, sprouts and carrots," said Neville, putting the dishes in front of her as he spoke. "Then for dessert," he continued, "we have apple pie, apple cake, apple fritters, apple dumplings, caramel apples, apple strudel, apple tart, baked apple, apple brioche, and apple cinnamon crisp." "Wow," Hermione said. "So, you uh... really like apples, huh?" "Sure do!" Neville grinned at her. To be polite, Hermione took a bite of the casserole. "It's very good," she said. "So, I can see the food situation is handled, so I'll just be on my way..." "Aren't you going to try the rest of the food?" asked one of the house elves, looking up at her sadly. "Er, well, you see, I have a lot to do..." Hermione hedged. "Miss Hermione," Dobby tugged on her robes urgently. "Miss must stay and try all of the food. It's a terrible insult to the House Elves if miss does not. They all will feel shamed by your refusal." "Really?" she asked, worried. All of the house elves nodded solemnly. "Please stay and eat, it will make us so happy!" said one of them. "Well... fine. If everyone else eats too," Hermione gave in. Neville and the house elves cheered. She found she actually was feeling quite hungry, so she wasn't too worried, even though there was so much food that just a bit of everything still ended up overflowing off her plate. The food was quite delicious, though she was feeling awfully antsy since she really ought to be getting on with the preparations so she could go to the library... But Neville kept trying to engage her in conversation, and Hermione imagined the Headmaster would be unhappy with her if she didn't at least talk to him. Since she didn't want to talk about herself, she headed off his questions by asking her own. "So Neville, you're a student, right?" she asked. "Yes, I am!" he said, between bites. "But I thought house elves were in charge of the food at Hogwarts?" "Mostly they are," Neville explained, "but Professor Dumbledore asked me to tweak some of the recipes for special occasions. House elves don't really know much about Herbology, and it's by far my best subject, so I'm helping create dishes using herbs and fungi grown right here at Hogwarts!" He puffed out his chest in pride. "Oh... but just the non-magical herbs and fungi, right?" Hermione asked. "No, I use both. Some of the magical herbs taste excellent, there's one in particular that's delicious in pumpkin bread-" "What?" she cried, spitting her food into a napkin and pushing the plate away from her. "That's so dangerous!" "Professor Dumbledore has to approve all my choices before we actually cook or bake the dishes, of course," Neville said soothingly. "He wouldn't let us put in anything dangerous. He always protects his students." "Unless he doesn't believe the dangerous thing is dangerous," Hermione muttered. "And wants you to make friends instead." "Pardon?" said Neville. "I didn't catch that." "Nothing," Hermione said. "You can't be finished already!" he said, as he saw that she stopped eating. "There's still tons left for you to try." "I... I think I'm full," she said. "You can't be yet. Besides," he lowered his voice, "if you don't try everything, the elves will be awfully upset. Don't worry about the magical ingredients, I promise they're safe. And we've been using them in Hogwarts food for a while." Reluctantly, she began eating again. She tried to only take the tiniest bit of foods that seemed like they might have herbs in them. "So, are there any herbs in the apple pie?" she asked, as it neared time for desert. "No, just spices," he said. "Those aren't magical." "I think I'll have the pie," she said, taking a huge bite. "Oh, wow, this is so good." "I'm glad you like it!" he said. She really was pretty full now, but it was just so good, she couldn't stop. "Wow, I've never had apple pie that good before!" she said. "That would be the special magical apples," Neville said. "What?" "Miss Hermione has seen to the food; now, the weather!" Dobby exclaimed cheerfully as they left the kitchens. "We must go to the roof!" "The weather? But the feast is indoors," Hermione protested. She moaned and held her stomach. "I ate way too much. Oh, I really hope that magical food wasn't dangerous. Do you think he was joking about the apples? And I don't want to walk up all those stairs! Why do we care what the weather's like?" "Headmaster Dumbledore wants all the stars to be out at the feast," Dobby said. "The ceiling of the Great Hall-" "-is enchanted to look like whatever the weather is outside. Yes, I know." Hermione sighed, and started up the stairs reluctantly. "There must be some way to change the enchantment, have it show the clear night sky even if it's cloudy or storming. I wish Professor Dumbledore had asked me to research how to do that, instead." "But it says Mr Harry Potter is the student to be clearing the clouds! Oh, Harry Potter is a great wizard Miss Hermione, you'll see! You will like him!" The witch and her elf assistant emerged on the roof above the Great Hall. "Hmm. Clearing the clouds?" Hermione asked, looking up at the sky, which looked anything but clear. In fact, it looked like they might be a few moments away from a storm. "Well, he's not doing a very good job, is he?" No sooner had Hermione spoke than a broomstick slammed into her side. A wizard had been riding on the handle of aforementioned broomstick, so their combined forced was quite enough to knock a witch off her feet. Hermione waved her arms to try and stay upright, but she fell to the ground, right in a puddle of mud. Yuck! Why couldn't they have someone cleaning the roof of Hogwarts better? The broomstick-riding wizard fell on top of her, pushing her further into the mud without himself having to touch it. To Hermione's extreme annoyance, the wizard laughed as he stood up and grabbed the broomstick. "Um, excuse me?" he said, but he sounded amused much more than apologetic. She stood up, trying futilely to wipe the dirt off her robes and get it out of her hair. To make matters worse, the wizard (who had caused the whole problem in the first place) kept laughing at her. "Here, let me help you," he chuckled, pulling out his wand and flicking it at her before she could object. "AGUAMENTI!" A deluge of water shot out of the end of his wand and slammed right into Hermione, nearly knocking her over again. Though it was over a few seconds later, she was completely drenched, sputtering and coughing from the water she'd accidentally inhaled. He laughed at this too! Hermione was starting to seriously hate this boy. She panted a few times, but before she managed to speak, he was talking again. "Whoops, sorry!" he said, once again not sounding sorry at all. "Guess that was a bit too much! Er, how about this. Deprimo!" Now a torrent of powerful wind came at her, so forceful that it lifted her off her feet. For one terrified second, she thought she'd be blown clear off the roof and fall to her death. Of course, the Hogwarts roof extended for at least a kilometer, so that wasn't an issue, but she did bang into a turret with a painful THUMP. She was pinned there another second before the spell was over. She was dry now, kind of, but her hair was a complete rat's nest (not that it was usually much better) from the drenching and then the ridiculous Category 5 Hurricane wind. She was shivering as well as she slid down to the ground luckily managing to land on her feet. The wizard looked at her, biting his lip, and burst into his loudest and most mirthful guffaws yet. If I kill him, it's Dumbledore's fault really, Hermione thought. He's the one who wanted me to meet these people. To her horror, as Dobby looked from the rude broomstick riding wizard to Hermione, he couldn't hold back some chuckles either. A jury would agree, right? I wanted to just study and not deal with any of these stupid wizards, so I can't be held accountable! She panted several times, and finally had enough breath to speak. "WHY-" She yelled at the boy, advancing on him and pointing a finger. He straightened up, looking kind of scared of her now. "WOULD YOU NOT!" she continued, poking him hard in the chest. "USE SCORGIFY?" "Oh!" said the boy, with a look of dawning comprehension. "Wow, that would have been a good idea! You're really smart!" Hermione resisted the urge to bang her head against the wall. "You're Harry Potter?" she asked incredulously. "The Boy Who Lived? The only wizard to survive the Killing Curse?" "That's me. I guess you've heard of me," he said, looking a bit pained. "I heard that you're supposed to keep the sky clear!" Hermione said crossly. Then she took a deep breath to calm herself. She had promised Dumbledore she'd do this, after all. "I'm Hermione Granger. Headmaster Dumbledore sent me to check on the weather for the End of Term Feast." "Oh, that," Harry said dismissively, as he mounted his broom. "That'll be easy. I'll do it in a jiffy, just as soon as I finish practicing." "Practicing?" Hermione repeated. "For what?" Harry looked surprised. "For Quidditch, of course!" he cried, pushing up from the floor and flying in loops around the sky. He flew back down to talk to her. "I'm a Seeker! The Tutshill Tornadoes are going to be at the End of Term feast, this is my chance to impress them!" "The Tutshill Tornadoes?" she repeated incredulously. "Yep!" said Harry. "The top ranked league in all of Magical Britain?" Hermione didn't like Quidditch, but of course she'd read all the books in the library on the subject. "That's them!" Hermione frowned for a moment, then got an idea. "Ha!" she exclaimed. "Please. Do you really think the Tutshill Tornadoes would put a Seeker on their team who can't even keep a sky clear for one day?" "Hey!" Harry zoomed up to her and glared. "I could clear this sky if I wanted to. I'd have it clear in ten seconds flat!" Hermione hid her grin. Come into my parlor, said the spider... She just raised an eyebrow, and looked disbelieving. "Prove it," she said. But what came next took her totally by surprise, as Harry zipped, dove, twirled and looped his way through the air. He flew so quickly that he just looked like a blur as he pushed aside the clouds just as quickly as he had claimed he would, and all that was left was clear blue sky. Hermione gaped at him. Apparently he hadn't been exaggerating his flying skills. Harry swooped down so he was hovering just a few feet above the floor. "You should see the look on your face!" he told the witch, chortling once more. "You're a laugh, Hermione Granger. I can't wait to hang out some more!" With that, he zoomed off in the direction of the Quidditch Pitch, presumably for more practice. Dobby looked at his mistress. "Dobby told Miss Hermione, Harry Potter is a great wizard!" he cried. "Well," Hermione allowed, looking down at the elf, "his flying is superb, I'll give you that. Come on." She could tell that the house elf liked Harry Potter a lot, so she didn't say what she was thinking: Hang out some more? She was pretty sure if she 'hung out' with that wizard any more, she'd end up in Azkaban. If he laughed at her misfortune- that he'd caused!- much more, she didn't think she could restrain herself. Even if he was the best hope of the Wizarding World. Please review! Chapter 3Harry Potter: Friendship is Magic Part 1: The Flyer from Death Author: Anisky Concept by spikeslashrarity Description: Hermione Granger is Dumbledore's private student, and she much prefers books to friends. But when she discovers an ancient prophecy predicting that Lord Voldemort will rise in two days, instead of taking action, Professor Dumbledore tells Hermione to supervise the preparations for the End of Term feast- and to make friends? Disclaimer: I own nothing having to do with My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic or Harry Potter. I am not making money off this in any way and am just writing it for fun! -- Chapter 3 “Decorations,” Dobby proclaimed, as they entered the Great Hall. “Gorgeous!” “Yes,” Hermione agreed approvingly, looking around the huge room. She was surprised to find that it actually looked good; she wouldn't have much to do at all. “The décor is coming along very nicely. We can just pop in quickly, and be on our way! I'll be at the library in no time. Gorgeous, indeed!” “Not the décor,” Dobby said, in a strange, entranced voice. “Him!” He pointed to the blonde wizard in Slytherin robes, who was flicking his wand expertly as the decorations flew this way and that. Hermione gave Dobby a strange look as the elf smoothed out his clothes, pulling up his colorful mismatched socks and straightening his tea cozy. Don't ask, she told herself. Any distractions mean more time until you get to the library. So she ignored the house elf as she strode up to the blonde student, who didn't even seem to notice her as he flicked ribbons and jewels into the air and into a pile, or the wall, depending on their suitability. “Excuse me,” she said. “Oh, just a moment, please,” he sang out, without turning from his task. “I'm particularly inspired just now, I don't want to disrupt the creative flow, you know!” He floated a deep emerald green ribbon in front of him, and with some complicated wand movements, it folded itself into a bow and placed itself on the wall. Silver sparkles completed the piece. “Perfect!” he exclaimed. “Oh, I don't want to toot my own horn, but I am a genius, am I not? You know, it's true what they say, Slytherin colors really are the classiest. Green and silver, understated and subtle, yet festive. Now,” he said, turning to face Hermione, “how can I help--- AHHH!” The wizard screamed and jumped backwards when he saw his companion's appearance. “Sweet Morgana's tresses!” he cried out, rushing forward to inspect her from all angles, each one seemingly more horrifying than the last. “Whatever happened to your coiffure?!” “Oh,” Hermione said, touching her bushy mane. “It's a long story. Suffice it to say, Harry Potter is to blame.” “Oh, Potter!” The wizard scoffed, looking like he smelled something unpleasant. Hermione understood the feeling completely. “Anyway, I'm just here to check on the decorations for the End of Term Feast, and then I'll just get out of your hair.” “My hair?” The wizard exclaimed. “What about your hair?!” Too late she realized that might not be the best choice of words, though she doubted anything would have kept him off for long. “Come, darling!” he exclaimed, grabbing her hand and pulling her along after him. “What? Where are we going?” Hermione asked, as she saw her chances to finish up quickly dwindle and vanish. “Really,” she said, trying to pull away, “I have a lot of work to do.” “But you can't go about looking like that!” the wizard protested, grasping her hand tighter. “It's... it's unprofessional! It will only take a moment to clean you up, really! Now, what's your name? I'm Draco Malfoy, Slytherin extraordinaire.” “Uh, Hermione Granger, nice to meet you,” she said. “Granger? Of the Dagworth-Grangers, perhaps, the great potioneers?” “Uh...” Hermione had heard stories about the Slytherins, so to be on the safe side, she decided not to share too much. “I don't think so. But maybe.” They came to a door and the wizard opened it and pulled her inside. The room was large, and filled with dress robes and cosmetics and every sort of beauty potion or hair conditioner imaginable. “Is this your room?” Hermione asked. “Why does Hogwarts have a professional-grade dressing room?” “Why, have you never been in the Room of Requirement?!” She shook her head. “It's a room that becomes whatever you need it to be, darling! It's ever so useful!” The young witch's eyes widened. That did sound awfully useful. “Might it stock books if you wanted them?” she asked. “Of course, it will have anything you want it to have! Except for food, for some reason.” Hermione opened her mouth to explain why food couldn't be conjured from nothing, but before she could speak Draco had whisked her over to one of the stations. “Now just lean back, I'm going to wash and condition your hair.” “That's really not necessary--” “Oh, sweetie, no, it really is.” Hermione blushed, and just let him lean her chair back so her head was resting in a basin. It actually might have felt kind of good, if she hadn't been so impatient to finish up with the preparations so she could learn more about the Horcruxes of Harmony so she could stop the evil Flyer from Death from returning. Once Draco was done with her hair (which, she had to admit, looked better than she'd ever seen it), he insisted on finding dress robes for her to wear to the next night's festivities as well. “First, of course, we need to put on the right underthings so you know if everything fits. One never knows how a dress robe will fit with a corset unless one tries!” “Corset?” Hermione repeated. “I don't know.” “Oh, don't be silly darling, they're all the rage. Now, change out of those drab old work robes, and put on these!” He shoved a pair of knickers at her. “You want me to take off my clothes?” she asked incredulously. “No!” Draco giggled. “Don't worry about me, my wand doesn't spark for witches, if you catch my meaning.” Dobby, who had thus far been staring at Draco in silent adoration, sat up straight when he heard this. His eyes began to shine with hope as his face cracked into a huge smile. “Um,” said Hermione. “Oh, if it bothers you so much, you can go behind that curtain there.” Draco waved her towards the dressing area. “And take this corset with you as well, you can hold it up to your front while I lace up the back.” Hermione looked over at the door and pondered if she'd be able to escape if she ran. Professor Dumbledore would probably be very unhappy if she actually fled from the other students when she was supposed to be making friends, though, so she just sighed and went behind the curtain as directed. A few minutes later she was regretting it, as Draco laced the corset and pulled it tight. “I—can't--breathe!” Hermione gasped. “Don't worry, just a tad bit more,” he said, and pulled it so hard Hermione was surprised her ribs didn't crack. While she had been changing, Draco had gone around the room collecting possible dress robes for her to wear, and now he flicked his wand and floated several of them into the air. “Now, what House are you in, darling?” he queried, as he floated around the room choosing various dress robes and jewelry. “You don't have to wear your House colors, of course, what would someone do if their coloring just clashed completely with them? But one should try to have at least accents and accessories to show your allegiance, in my opinion. So what are you? You seem like a Ravenclaw.” “Actually, I don't have a House,” Hermione told him. “I'm Professor Dumbledore's private pupil.” Draco gasped, and the floating robes nearly fell to the floor before he rescued them and guided them to nearby hangers. “Really?” he cried. “I've heard of him doing that, but it's so rare! He only takes the most talented students as private pupils. Oh, I'm so envious! The magical power you must have, and the prestige! You simply must tell me all about it! Oh, we are going to be the best of friends, you and I!” Hermione winced. There was that dreaded word again! Well, at least she could tell Dumbledore that she'd made a friend and be kind of honest...ish... “And of course, you can wear any kind of color you want! You should be in something dazzling, something completely unique. But what?!” He ran around the room, considering and discarding robe after robe. “Nothing here is fit for the private pupil of Dumbledore! I'll just have to design something!” “Er,” said the witch. “Well. I really do have a lot more work to do.” “Of course dear, I'll just take your measurements-- no, leave the corset on, I want your measurements with it, silly witch-- and you can come back before the Feast for a fitting!” “Oh, uh, won't that be a lot of work? You really don't have to do all that for me...” “Don't be ridiculous, it will be my pleasure!” Hermione slumped; well, as much as she could slump in the horrible, restricting corset, anyway. Draco pointed his wand at her and said some incantations. A measuring tape flew up and measured everything that could be measured, from her waist to the length of each of her toes and the distance between her nostrils. “Oh, I'll get started on your robes right away. They'll be simply divine!” he cried, apparently rapturous. He skipped lightly over to a workstation and transfigured a mannequin, presumably to Hermione's measurements. “Quick, Dobby, undo the corset, before he changes his mind and wants to put even more things on me!” Hermione exclaimed. Dobby was still sighing over Draco, but he obediently unlaced her corset. Hermione pulled on her clothes and work robe as quickly as possible, and fled the Room of Requirement. “Shouldn't we at least say goodbye?” asked Dobby. “No,” she said firmly. “If he remembers I'm here he might make me try on more things.” The house elf reluctantly followed her out the door and down the hallway. “Wasn't he lovely?” Dobby sighed. “Uh, sure,” said Hermione. “Oh no!” the elf cried suddenly. “I just realized, Miss Hermione and Mister Draco never decided on a time for the fitting tomorrow. If we could just pop back there--” “No,” said Hermione, grabbing Dobby and yanking him away from the room. “If it's that important to him, he'll find me.” She really hoped that Draco forgot all about making her dress robes, or that he would be unable to find her tomorrow. Of course she couldn't say so to Dobby. “So what's next?” she asked him, hoping to take his mind off his new found crush. “Music. It's the last one. It says we should go outside, next to the lake.” “Oh, good. Just this and then I can get to the library, then! What kind of music is it?” “The instructions don't say,” Dobby told her. As they left the castle, Hermione could hear faint music, and it got louder as they neared the lake. It was strange, though, it didn't sound like any kind of music she'd ever heard. They must be using some obscure kind of instrument, she decided. The source of the music turned out to be a witch in bright yellow robes, using her wand as a conductor's baton as she led... a group of songbirds? Hermione stared at the bizarre sight. The witch didn't notice anyone was there, but as one of the birds lost the tempo, she stopped all of them and went over to the errant bird. “Excuse me, sir,” she said to the bird, “but your rhythm is a little off. Follow my wand for the beat, okay?” It looked almost like the bird nodded, but it must have just been Hermione's imagination. “Now let's start again. One, two, a-one, two, three, four--” “Excuse me,” Hermione said, before they could start singing again. The witch jumped in surprise, and the birds scattered. “You do know that the only sentient birds are owls and phoenixes, right? Only those birds can understand you when you speak to them.” “That's a very common misconception,” the witch said brightly. “But in fact, most birds are extremely intelligent, they just don't like to show it to wizards because they don't want to be put to work like the owls are.” “Er, no,” Hermione said, “that's not true at all. I'm Hermione, by the way, I'm just checking on the music for the End of Term Feast.” “I'm Luna Lovegood,” said the other witch. “And yes, it is true. My father recently wrote an article about it in our newspaper, the Quibbler.” Hermione looked Luna up and down. The first thing that caught your eye was her extremely bright yellow robes, that had little pink butterflies embroidered on just a small patch. Her long, dirty blonde hair would probably give Draco a conniption-- in fact, Hermione wondered if maybe she could bring along this girl to the fitting. The fashion-obsessed Slytherin would probably forget all about Hermione in his frenzy to give Luna a makeover. “Okay then,” she said, giving up on the point about the birds. “Well, it's certainly an unusual choice for music, but it sounds beautiful.” “Thank you,” said Luna. She looked thoughtful. “Did you say your name was Hermione Granger?” “Yes...” “Where have I heard-- oh! I remember who you are!” Luna exclaimed. “You're the witch that Dumbledore is grooming to take over the Ministry with him once you help Harry Potter defeat the Dark Lord once and for all!” “What.” “Oh, don't worry, my father and I support it! I mean, You-Know-Who needs to be defeated, of course, and we assume you and Dumbledore would be much better rulers of Wizarding Britain than Minister Fudge is... though really, I have to say, I really do think a democracy would be best. But when you attack the Ministry, we won't stand against you, or anything.” Hermione's mouth opened and closed, like a fish. “What-- who--” she sputtered. She collected herself and tried again. “What on Earth makes you think Dumbledore wants to take over the Ministry? Or that he wants me to help him?! Haven't tons of wizards asked him to run for Minister, but he's always refused?” “Of course, that's all part of his conspiracy,” Luna said, in confidential tones. “But you know that.” “No,” Hermione said. “Neither Dumbledore nor I have any interest in ruling Wizarding Britain.” “Of course not,” Luna said. “Your goal is to take over the entire Wizarding World.” Hermione nearly choked on her own saliva. “Why in the world would you think that?!” she cried. “Oh, my father found all sorts of proof. But I don't need to tell you, I mean, obviously you know that it's true.” “No, it most certainly is not!” “Oh. Right,” Luna said, with a wink. “I get it. You still have to deny it. No, you're not trying to take over the Wizarding World.” She gave another, very exaggerated wink. “ARRGH!” Hermione growled, tearing at her hair in frustration. (Draco would be angry later that she'd messed up her hairdo.) “Oh, Hermione, could I please have an interview with you? Everything we know about you so far is hearsay, my father and I would be so happy to actually get to ask you about yourself and your opinions, as future co-ruler of the world.” “For the last time, I am not going to take over the world!” Hermione exclaimed. “I'm not going to take over Magical Britain! I'm not going to take over anywhere, and neither is Professor Dumbledore! “Now,” she continued, “it looks like your birds are back, so I guess everything's in order. Keep up the good work, and good luck getting that one bird to stick to the beat. Bye now!” Hermione beckoned to Dobby and they turned to go, but to her dismay, Luna followed after her with a quick trot. “No, wait!” the strange witch said. “We can do the interview while you walk wherever you're going, so it won't waste any of your time!” “Don't you need to keep practicing with your birds?” Hermione asked hopefully. “No, they're mostly ready, and I can clean everything up tomorrow,” Luna answered brightly. “So! What made Dumbledore decide to make you his protege?” Though she was uncomfortable answering questions for this 'interview,' she couldn't just ignore the witch beside her completely. So reluctantly, Hermione answered. “When I was nine years old I accidentally performed a very advanced piece of magic,” she said . “But if an underage witch or wizard does magic, the Ministry is notified, not the Headmaster. So how did he find out?” “They had to Obliviate a whole lot of Muggles and... do some other things to clean up. They needed me to learn how to control my magic at least a bit, for everyone's safety. They contacted Hogwarts to get an appropriate teacher, so Dumbledore came.” “So it was the Ministry who told Dumbledore about you? And they know that he's teaching you privately?” “Of course they know,” Hermione said, annoyed. “It's not exactly a secret, is it?” “Hermione,” Luna said, looking very serious and troubled, “Have you considered that the Ministry has probably put a bounty on your head?” Hermione looked down at Dobby and raised her eyebrows. He just shrugged at her. The conversation went a lot like that for most of the walk back to Hermione's room. By the time she finally arrived, she was just about on her last nerve. “Well, this was really interesting,” she said, “but I have a whole lot of studying to do.” “What are you studying?” Luna asked. “Why don't you use the Hogwarts library?” She sighed as she took out her wand and unlocked the door. “I do use the Hogwarts library, but I keep a lot of books it doesn't have in my own collection. Good luck with the music.” But Luna rushed in through the door before Hermione could stop her. “No, I want to see where you live, see what books are off-limits to Hogwarts students!” “They're not off-limits,” she said, as she entered the dark room and flicked her wand towards the lamps. “They just--” “SURPRISE!” Please review!
Chapter 1Harry Potter: Friendship is Magic Part 1: The Flyer from Death Author: Anisky Concept by spikeslashrarity Description: Hermione Granger is Dumbledore's private student, and she much prefers books to friends. But when she discovers an ancient prophecy predicting that Lord Voldemort will rise in two days, instead of taking action, Professor Dumbledore tells Hermione to supervise the preparations for the End of Term feast- and to make friends? Disclaimer: I own nothing having to do with My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic or Harry Potter. I am not making money off this in any way and am just writing it for fun! -- Chapter 1 Once upon a time, in Magical Britain, there was a mentor and his student, who used their magical abilities to create harmony in all the land. To do this, the older mentor used his powers of protecting and happiness during the day. The younger found his powers were much stronger at night. Thus, the teacher and his pupil maintained balance throughout Britain. But as time went on, the younger wizard became angry and resentful. He feared Death greatly, and had heard that his mentor knew the secret to becoming the Master of Death. However hard he begged his teacher to tell him how to defeat Death, however, his teacher refused. The teacher said that all beings must die, that it was the natural order of things. One day, the young student refused to use his powers of night to protect the wizards of Britain. He blamed the Muggleborns for his teacher's refusal to help him escape Death, reasoning that if there were not Muggles in the world who lived and died, then perhaps wizards would not see death as something natural and inevitable. Without Muggles and Muggleborns, he believed, wizards would see the wisdom in becoming immortal. The elder mentor tried to reason with him, but the bitterness in the young one's heart turned him into an evil Dark Wizard- Lord Voldemort! He vowed that he would rid the Wizarding World of all Muggleborns, and free himself from death. Reluctantly, the elder mentor harnessed the most powerful magic known to wizards: The Horcruxes of Harmony! Using the magic of the Horcruxes of Harmony, he defeated his young protege, and banished him to Albania permanently. The elder teacher took responsibility for both day and night, and Harmony has been maintained in Wizarding Britain ever since. -- Hermione stared at her book, smoothing out one of the pages distractedly as she thought. "Hmm, Horcruxes of Harmony," she said slowly. "I know I've heard of those before... but where?" But no matter how she thought, she couldn't seem to remember the answer. She sighed, and shut her book. The school year had just ended, and her final exams had been finished several days ago, but Hermione always loved to study. Besides, something was telling her that this was important. She had to go to the library to find out more. Hermione had just finished her third year of magical education. Though she lived and studied at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she didn't attend classes and live in a House the way most of the students did. Instead, she was Dumbledore's private pupil, and under his tutelage she was set to become one of the most powerful witches in all the world. Not being in a Hogwarts House made it difficult to socialize, but this suited Hermione Granger perfectly. She would much rather read books than make friends, and being that strange, brainy Muggleborn who didn't attend any of the normal classes or sit at the normal House tables made it easy to avoid everyone who might try befriending her. She burst into the library, throwing the door open so quickly that it knocked an elf off his feet. Hermione didn't notice him at first, so she called, "Dobby! Dobby?" Then she spotted him lying on the floor. "Oh, there you are! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hit you with the door!" Back when Hermione had first heard of House Elves, she'd been horrified that Hogwarts used creatures that way- it was like slave labor! She had tried to convince Headmaster Dumbledore to give them wages and vacation, but though her beloved Headmaster was willing, the house elves were insulted by the offer. Hermione had kept trying to free them, until the elves were frightened and resentful of Hermione. In an attempt to smooth over relations between Hermione and the elves, Dumbledore had assigned Dobby to be her assistant. Dobby was a free elf, who received wages and vacation, so he and Hermione got on very well. She figured that his presence in Hogwarts would show the other elves the benefits of freedom, and Dobby was happy to have a "mistress" who respected him as a free elf. "It is okay, miss," Dobby said. "Dobby is not being badly hurt." "Oh, good. Then could you find me that copy of Prophecies of the 20th Century?" Hermione asked. "Miss is wanting more books?" Dobby asked. "But miss is on a break! Miss has finally completed all her exams!" Hermione ignored the house elf's point. He knew that she never stopped studying over the summer. What else would she do, if she weren't studying, anyway? She flew around the library, searching through all the different books. "No, no, no no no!" she exclaimed. She grew increasingly frustrated as she went through the books, but she still placed them carefully back on the shelf when she had looked at them. Books were precious, after all, no matter how angry she was she would treat them with respect! "The book is here, miss!" cried Dobby. "Oh, thank you, Dobby!" said Hermione, snatching the book from his outstretched hands. She sat down to flip through it. "Horcruxes, Horcruxes, H, H, H... here it is, the Horcruxes of Harmony. See the 'Flyer from Death'. The Flyer from Death?" Hermione repeated aloud, sounding incredulous. "That sounds like the grim reaper is handing out brochures for the afterlife or something." Dobby stared at Hermione blankly. "Miss?" She sighed. "Dobby, have you heard of the Flyer from Death?" "Yes miss, Dobby has heard of him, but Dobby is told it is just an old witch's tale!" Hermione frowned and flipped to the index. "It's in Prophecies of the 10th Century. Accio!" She pointed her wand at the book shelf, and the desired book flew towards her. She searched the pages until she found what she was looking for. "A prophecy, made by the seer Pinkamina Diane in the late 10th century. It's still on file in the Hall of Prophecy, but has never been labeled, as they are still unsure to whom the prophecy refers. "According to her prediction, the Flyer from Death would be a powerful Dark Wizard who will try to rule Great Britain, but is banished before he succeeds. But, on the longest day of the thirteenth year of his banishment, the stars will align, and a rat will aid in his escape- a rat?" Hermione repeated, blinking in surprise at the page. "Well, the magical world is strange sometimes... a rat will aid in his escape, and he will return to conquer Magical Britain once more." Hermione gasped as all the pieces came together in her head. "Dobby, do you know what this means?" "No," Dobby said. She paced the library as she thought. "I must send a letter to Dumbledore right away!" "But, is miss sure that is a good idea?" asked Dobby tentatively. "The Headmaster is being very busy now, to prepare for the End of Term Feast." "That's just it, Dobby! The Flyer from Death must be Lord Voldemort! That's what 'vol de mort' means in French! But the longest day of the thirteenth year... that's the day after tomorrow! We can't wait until after the End of Term Feast, there's not enough time!" Hermione grabbed her quill and inkwell out of her bag, as well as a piece of parchment, and set about writing to the Headmaster. My Beloved Teacher (she wrote), My continuing studies have lead me to discover that we are on the BRINK of DISASTER! For you see, the ancient prophecy about the Flyer from Death is in fact about Lord Voldemort, and he's about to return to Great Britain, to conquer the Magical World once more! Something must be done to make sure that this terribly prophecy DOES NOT come true! Please reply as soon as possible, it is of the utmost importance! Your faithful student, Hermione Granger She blew lightly on the ink to dry it, then rolled it up. "Come on, Dobby! To the owlery!" Dobby followed her reluctantly, saying things like, "Is miss sure that this is a good idea?" and "The Headmaster, he is so busy Miss Hermione, is miss sure this cannot wait for a few days?" "Yes, Dobby, I'm sure! This is important, much more important than the end of term feast!" "If you say so, Miss," Dobby said doubtfully, as Hermione attached the letter to an owl's leg and sent him off to the headmaster. "Oh, I'm not worried, Dobby," she assured her assistant. "Professor Dumbledore trusts me completely. In all the years he's been my mentor, he's never once doubted me." The house elf looked skeptical, but they'd only been waiting a minute when the owl flew back and landed on Hermione's shoulder with a hoot. There was a letter tied to his leg. "See, Dobby?" Hermione said smugly as she gave the owl a treat and opened the letter. "I knew he would realize the dire nature of this situation." She lowered her eyes to read the letter. My dear student Hermione, You know that I have faith in your marvelous ability and dedication, and that I trust you completely. But you simply must stop reading those dusty old books! Hermione gasped and dropped the parchment. WHAT?!
Chapter 2Harry Potter: Friendship is Magic Part 1: The Flyer from Death Author: Anisky Concept by spikeslashrarity Chapter 2 As Hermione dejectedly trudged down the stairs from the Owlery, Dobby read the letter that Professor Dumbledore had sent to her. "My dear Hermione," he read, "There is more to a young witch's life than studying! With this in mind, I've decided to charge you with overseeing the preparations for the Hogwarts End of Term feast. As well as making sure the feast goes smoothly, I have an even more essential task for you: Make some friends!" Hermione Granger groaned. She'd already read the letter, of course, and hearing it again just made her want to sink into the ground. "Miss Hermione, it is not that bad, Dobby does not think!" said the House Elf. "It is only lasting for a day or two." "But Dobby!" Hermione cried. "He said he wants me to stop reading books and start making friends! What if he decides I shouldn't be his personal student anymore? What if he makes me put on the Sorting Hat and join one of the houses, and take classes with all the other students?" "Miss," Dobby said comfortingly, "Headmaster Dumbledore has not written he will do that! If miss just makes some friends, Dobby is sure that the Headmaster will not be wanting to stop tutoring his best student!" "Or," Hermione said, brightening, "if I prove that I'm right! I'll take care of all the preparations as fast as I can, and then I'll go to the library to find more books and find definitive proof that Voldemort is returning!" "But then when will miss make friends?" Hermione tossed her head as they got to the bottom of the stairs and stepped into the corridor. "Professor Dumbledore told me to supervise the preparations for the End of Term feast, and of course I'll do what my teacher and mentor tells me. "But the fate of Magical Britain does not depend on me making friends," Hermione concluded, with a scoff. Dobby frowned. "Like I said," Hermione said, "if I just show Professor Dumbledore that I'm right about Voldemort coming back, then he'll see how important my studies really are, and forget all about the stupid friendship thing. When he realizes that making me make friends would have allowed the worst Dark Wizard in history to rise again, there's no way he'll make me join a House or attend classes!" "But maybe if Miss Hermione is getting to know the other students, she will be liking them!" Dobby suggested. "Many of the Hogwarts students are interesting!" Hermione didn't look like she put much faith in this suggestion, but Dobby was persistent. A young wizard, with extremely bright red hair and freckles, was walking down the hallway cheerfully. Dobby pushed Hermione closer to her fellow student. "Please Miss, just try?" he said. She sighed. "Uh... hello?" she said to the redheaded wizard. The boy's jaw dropped, and he gasped at Hermione, loudly and dramatically. "UHHHHHHHH!" Then he took off running down the hallway, fast as he could. "Well, that was interesting, all right," she muttered to Dobby, her low opinion of the other students at Hogwarts clearly just reinforced. Dobby looked sad. His plan to help his mistress do as the Headmaster said and make some friends wasn't going very well. It seemed hopeless. But Dumbledore was an amazing wizard, maybe he knew something that Dobby didn't. "So what's first on this overseer's checklist?" Hermione asked impatiently, snatching the letter from Dobby and reading it. "Banquet celebrations. I guess we're going to the kitchens." As they entered the kitchens, dozens of house elves and one young wizard were all hard at work preparing the feast. When he saw Hermione and Dobby enter, the young wizard came to greet them. "Hi, I'm Neville!" he said. "I'm Hermione Granger, and I'm overseeing preparations for the End of Term Feast. You're in charge of the banquet?" "I sure am! I'm happy to meet you, Hermione. I love to make friends!" "Er," she said. "Here in the kitchen, we've been working nonstop to make it the best End of Term Feast in Hogwarts history. Care to sample some?" he asked. "Well," she said, "as long as it doesn't take too long." Hermione jumped as Neville rang a loud bell. "Alright, everyone!" he yelled. "Hermione wants to sample all the food for the feast!" "Well, I don't think all the food-" she started to say, but her voice was drowned out by the clattering as dozens of house elves grabbed every kind of food imaginable and piled it on the table in front of her. "This here's the roast beef, roast chicken, fried sausages, stew, casserole, shepherd's pie, steak, Cornish pasties, lamb chops, sausages, steak and kidney pudding, steak and kidney pie, black pudding, crumpets, roast potatoes, jacket potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, sprouts and carrots," said Neville, putting the dishes in front of her as he spoke. "Then for dessert," he continued, "we have apple pie, apple cake, apple fritters, apple dumplings, caramel apples, apple strudel, apple tart, baked apple, apple brioche, and apple cinnamon crisp." "Wow," Hermione said. "So, you uh... really like apples, huh?" "Sure do!" Neville grinned at her. To be polite, Hermione took a bite of the casserole. "It's very good," she said. "So, I can see the food situation is handled, so I'll just be on my way..." "Aren't you going to try the rest of the food?" asked one of the house elves, looking up at her sadly. "Er, well, you see, I have a lot to do..." Hermione hedged. "Miss Hermione," Dobby tugged on her robes urgently. "Miss must stay and try all of the food. It's a terrible insult to the House Elves if miss does not. They all will feel shamed by your refusal." "Really?" she asked, worried. All of the house elves nodded solemnly. "Please stay and eat, it will make us so happy!" said one of them. "Well... fine. If everyone else eats too," Hermione gave in. Neville and the house elves cheered. She found she actually was feeling quite hungry, so she wasn't too worried, even though there was so much food that just a bit of everything still ended up overflowing off her plate. The food was quite delicious, though she was feeling awfully antsy since she really ought to be getting on with the preparations so she could go to the library... But Neville kept trying to engage her in conversation, and Hermione imagined the Headmaster would be unhappy with her if she didn't at least talk to him. Since she didn't want to talk about herself, she headed off his questions by asking her own. "So Neville, you're a student, right?" she asked. "Yes, I am!" he said, between bites. "But I thought house elves were in charge of the food at Hogwarts?" "Mostly they are," Neville explained, "but Professor Dumbledore asked me to tweak some of the recipes for special occasions. House elves don't really know much about Herbology, and it's by far my best subject, so I'm helping create dishes using herbs and fungi grown right here at Hogwarts!" He puffed out his chest in pride. "Oh... but just the non-magical herbs and fungi, right?" Hermione asked. "No, I use both. Some of the magical herbs taste excellent, there's one in particular that's delicious in pumpkin bread-" "What?" she cried, spitting her food into a napkin and pushing the plate away from her. "That's so dangerous!" "Professor Dumbledore has to approve all my choices before we actually cook or bake the dishes, of course," Neville said soothingly. "He wouldn't let us put in anything dangerous. He always protects his students." "Unless he doesn't believe the dangerous thing is dangerous," Hermione muttered. "And wants you to make friends instead." "Pardon?" said Neville. "I didn't catch that." "Nothing," Hermione said. "You can't be finished already!" he said, as he saw that she stopped eating. "There's still tons left for you to try." "I... I think I'm full," she said. "You can't be yet. Besides," he lowered his voice, "if you don't try everything, the elves will be awfully upset. Don't worry about the magical ingredients, I promise they're safe. And we've been using them in Hogwarts food for a while." Reluctantly, she began eating again. She tried to only take the tiniest bit of foods that seemed like they might have herbs in them. "So, are there any herbs in the apple pie?" she asked, as it neared time for desert. "No, just spices," he said. "Those aren't magical." "I think I'll have the pie," she said, taking a huge bite. "Oh, wow, this is so good." "I'm glad you like it!" he said. She really was pretty full now, but it was just so good, she couldn't stop. "Wow, I've never had apple pie that good before!" she said. "That would be the special magical apples," Neville said. "What?" "Miss Hermione has seen to the food; now, the weather!" Dobby exclaimed cheerfully as they left the kitchens. "We must go to the roof!" "The weather? But the feast is indoors," Hermione protested. She moaned and held her stomach. "I ate way too much. Oh, I really hope that magical food wasn't dangerous. Do you think he was joking about the apples? And I don't want to walk up all those stairs! Why do we care what the weather's like?" "Headmaster Dumbledore wants all the stars to be out at the feast," Dobby said. "The ceiling of the Great Hall-" "-is enchanted to look like whatever the weather is outside. Yes, I know." Hermione sighed, and started up the stairs reluctantly. "There must be some way to change the enchantment, have it show the clear night sky even if it's cloudy or storming. I wish Professor Dumbledore had asked me to research how to do that, instead." "But it says Mr Harry Potter is the student to be clearing the clouds! Oh, Harry Potter is a great wizard Miss Hermione, you'll see! You will like him!" The witch and her elf assistant emerged on the roof above the Great Hall. "Hmm. Clearing the clouds?" Hermione asked, looking up at the sky, which looked anything but clear. In fact, it looked like they might be a few moments away from a storm. "Well, he's not doing a very good job, is he?" No sooner had Hermione spoke than a broomstick slammed into her side. A wizard had been riding on the handle of aforementioned broomstick, so their combined forced was quite enough to knock a witch off her feet. Hermione waved her arms to try and stay upright, but she fell to the ground, right in a puddle of mud. Yuck! Why couldn't they have someone cleaning the roof of Hogwarts better? The broomstick-riding wizard fell on top of her, pushing her further into the mud without himself having to touch it. To Hermione's extreme annoyance, the wizard laughed as he stood up and grabbed the broomstick. "Um, excuse me?" he said, but he sounded amused much more than apologetic. She stood up, trying futilely to wipe the dirt off her robes and get it out of her hair. To make matters worse, the wizard (who had caused the whole problem in the first place) kept laughing at her. "Here, let me help you," he chuckled, pulling out his wand and flicking it at her before she could object. "AGUAMENTI!" A deluge of water shot out of the end of his wand and slammed right into Hermione, nearly knocking her over again. Though it was over a few seconds later, she was completely drenched, sputtering and coughing from the water she'd accidentally inhaled. He laughed at this too! Hermione was starting to seriously hate this boy. She panted a few times, but before she managed to speak, he was talking again. "Whoops, sorry!" he said, once again not sounding sorry at all. "Guess that was a bit too much! Er, how about this. Deprimo!" Now a torrent of powerful wind came at her, so forceful that it lifted her off her feet. For one terrified second, she thought she'd be blown clear off the roof and fall to her death. Of course, the Hogwarts roof extended for at least a kilometer, so that wasn't an issue, but she did bang into a turret with a painful THUMP. She was pinned there another second before the spell was over. She was dry now, kind of, but her hair was a complete rat's nest (not that it was usually much better) from the drenching and then the ridiculous Category 5 Hurricane wind. She was shivering as well as she slid down to the ground luckily managing to land on her feet. The wizard looked at her, biting his lip, and burst into his loudest and most mirthful guffaws yet. If I kill him, it's Dumbledore's fault really, Hermione thought. He's the one who wanted me to meet these people. To her horror, as Dobby looked from the rude broomstick riding wizard to Hermione, he couldn't hold back some chuckles either. A jury would agree, right? I wanted to just study and not deal with any of these stupid wizards, so I can't be held accountable! She panted several times, and finally had enough breath to speak. "WHY-" She yelled at the boy, advancing on him and pointing a finger. He straightened up, looking kind of scared of her now. "WOULD YOU NOT!" she continued, poking him hard in the chest. "USE SCORGIFY?" "Oh!" said the boy, with a look of dawning comprehension. "Wow, that would have been a good idea! You're really smart!" Hermione resisted the urge to bang her head against the wall. "You're Harry Potter?" she asked incredulously. "The Boy Who Lived? The only wizard to survive the Killing Curse?" "That's me. I guess you've heard of me," he said, looking a bit pained. "I heard that you're supposed to keep the sky clear!" Hermione said crossly. Then she took a deep breath to calm herself. She had promised Dumbledore she'd do this, after all. "I'm Hermione Granger. Headmaster Dumbledore sent me to check on the weather for the End of Term Feast." "Oh, that," Harry said dismissively, as he mounted his broom. "That'll be easy. I'll do it in a jiffy, just as soon as I finish practicing." "Practicing?" Hermione repeated. "For what?" Harry looked surprised. "For Quidditch, of course!" he cried, pushing up from the floor and flying in loops around the sky. He flew back down to talk to her. "I'm a Seeker! The Tutshill Tornadoes are going to be at the End of Term feast, this is my chance to impress them!" "The Tutshill Tornadoes?" she repeated incredulously. "Yep!" said Harry. "The top ranked league in all of Magical Britain?" Hermione didn't like Quidditch, but of course she'd read all the books in the library on the subject. "That's them!" Hermione frowned for a moment, then got an idea. "Ha!" she exclaimed. "Please. Do you really think the Tutshill Tornadoes would put a Seeker on their team who can't even keep a sky clear for one day?" "Hey!" Harry zoomed up to her and glared. "I could clear this sky if I wanted to. I'd have it clear in ten seconds flat!" Hermione hid her grin. Come into my parlor, said the spider... She just raised an eyebrow, and looked disbelieving. "Prove it," she said. But what came next took her totally by surprise, as Harry zipped, dove, twirled and looped his way through the air. He flew so quickly that he just looked like a blur as he pushed aside the clouds just as quickly as he had claimed he would, and all that was left was clear blue sky. Hermione gaped at him. Apparently he hadn't been exaggerating his flying skills. Harry swooped down so he was hovering just a few feet above the floor. "You should see the look on your face!" he told the witch, chortling once more. "You're a laugh, Hermione Granger. I can't wait to hang out some more!" With that, he zoomed off in the direction of the Quidditch Pitch, presumably for more practice. Dobby looked at his mistress. "Dobby told Miss Hermione, Harry Potter is a great wizard!" he cried. "Well," Hermione allowed, looking down at the elf, "his flying is superb, I'll give you that. Come on." She could tell that the house elf liked Harry Potter a lot, so she didn't say what she was thinking: Hang out some more? She was pretty sure if she 'hung out' with that wizard any more, she'd end up in Azkaban. If he laughed at her misfortune- that he'd caused!- much more, she didn't think she could restrain herself. Even if he was the best hope of the Wizarding World. Please review!
Chapter 3Harry Potter: Friendship is Magic Part 1: The Flyer from Death Author: Anisky Concept by spikeslashrarity Description: Hermione Granger is Dumbledore's private student, and she much prefers books to friends. But when she discovers an ancient prophecy predicting that Lord Voldemort will rise in two days, instead of taking action, Professor Dumbledore tells Hermione to supervise the preparations for the End of Term feast- and to make friends? Disclaimer: I own nothing having to do with My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic or Harry Potter. I am not making money off this in any way and am just writing it for fun! -- Chapter 3 “Decorations,” Dobby proclaimed, as they entered the Great Hall. “Gorgeous!” “Yes,” Hermione agreed approvingly, looking around the huge room. She was surprised to find that it actually looked good; she wouldn't have much to do at all. “The décor is coming along very nicely. We can just pop in quickly, and be on our way! I'll be at the library in no time. Gorgeous, indeed!” “Not the décor,” Dobby said, in a strange, entranced voice. “Him!” He pointed to the blonde wizard in Slytherin robes, who was flicking his wand expertly as the decorations flew this way and that. Hermione gave Dobby a strange look as the elf smoothed out his clothes, pulling up his colorful mismatched socks and straightening his tea cozy. Don't ask, she told herself. Any distractions mean more time until you get to the library. So she ignored the house elf as she strode up to the blonde student, who didn't even seem to notice her as he flicked ribbons and jewels into the air and into a pile, or the wall, depending on their suitability. “Excuse me,” she said. “Oh, just a moment, please,” he sang out, without turning from his task. “I'm particularly inspired just now, I don't want to disrupt the creative flow, you know!” He floated a deep emerald green ribbon in front of him, and with some complicated wand movements, it folded itself into a bow and placed itself on the wall. Silver sparkles completed the piece. “Perfect!” he exclaimed. “Oh, I don't want to toot my own horn, but I am a genius, am I not? You know, it's true what they say, Slytherin colors really are the classiest. Green and silver, understated and subtle, yet festive. Now,” he said, turning to face Hermione, “how can I help--- AHHH!” The wizard screamed and jumped backwards when he saw his companion's appearance. “Sweet Morgana's tresses!” he cried out, rushing forward to inspect her from all angles, each one seemingly more horrifying than the last. “Whatever happened to your coiffure?!” “Oh,” Hermione said, touching her bushy mane. “It's a long story. Suffice it to say, Harry Potter is to blame.” “Oh, Potter!” The wizard scoffed, looking like he smelled something unpleasant. Hermione understood the feeling completely. “Anyway, I'm just here to check on the decorations for the End of Term Feast, and then I'll just get out of your hair.” “My hair?” The wizard exclaimed. “What about your hair?!” Too late she realized that might not be the best choice of words, though she doubted anything would have kept him off for long. “Come, darling!” he exclaimed, grabbing her hand and pulling her along after him. “What? Where are we going?” Hermione asked, as she saw her chances to finish up quickly dwindle and vanish. “Really,” she said, trying to pull away, “I have a lot of work to do.” “But you can't go about looking like that!” the wizard protested, grasping her hand tighter. “It's... it's unprofessional! It will only take a moment to clean you up, really! Now, what's your name? I'm Draco Malfoy, Slytherin extraordinaire.” “Uh, Hermione Granger, nice to meet you,” she said. “Granger? Of the Dagworth-Grangers, perhaps, the great potioneers?” “Uh...” Hermione had heard stories about the Slytherins, so to be on the safe side, she decided not to share too much. “I don't think so. But maybe.” They came to a door and the wizard opened it and pulled her inside. The room was large, and filled with dress robes and cosmetics and every sort of beauty potion or hair conditioner imaginable. “Is this your room?” Hermione asked. “Why does Hogwarts have a professional-grade dressing room?” “Why, have you never been in the Room of Requirement?!” She shook her head. “It's a room that becomes whatever you need it to be, darling! It's ever so useful!” The young witch's eyes widened. That did sound awfully useful. “Might it stock books if you wanted them?” she asked. “Of course, it will have anything you want it to have! Except for food, for some reason.” Hermione opened her mouth to explain why food couldn't be conjured from nothing, but before she could speak Draco had whisked her over to one of the stations. “Now just lean back, I'm going to wash and condition your hair.” “That's really not necessary--” “Oh, sweetie, no, it really is.” Hermione blushed, and just let him lean her chair back so her head was resting in a basin. It actually might have felt kind of good, if she hadn't been so impatient to finish up with the preparations so she could learn more about the Horcruxes of Harmony so she could stop the evil Flyer from Death from returning. Once Draco was done with her hair (which, she had to admit, looked better than she'd ever seen it), he insisted on finding dress robes for her to wear to the next night's festivities as well. “First, of course, we need to put on the right underthings so you know if everything fits. One never knows how a dress robe will fit with a corset unless one tries!” “Corset?” Hermione repeated. “I don't know.” “Oh, don't be silly darling, they're all the rage. Now, change out of those drab old work robes, and put on these!” He shoved a pair of knickers at her. “You want me to take off my clothes?” she asked incredulously. “No!” Draco giggled. “Don't worry about me, my wand doesn't spark for witches, if you catch my meaning.” Dobby, who had thus far been staring at Draco in silent adoration, sat up straight when he heard this. His eyes began to shine with hope as his face cracked into a huge smile. “Um,” said Hermione. “Oh, if it bothers you so much, you can go behind that curtain there.” Draco waved her towards the dressing area. “And take this corset with you as well, you can hold it up to your front while I lace up the back.” Hermione looked over at the door and pondered if she'd be able to escape if she ran. Professor Dumbledore would probably be very unhappy if she actually fled from the other students when she was supposed to be making friends, though, so she just sighed and went behind the curtain as directed. A few minutes later she was regretting it, as Draco laced the corset and pulled it tight. “I—can't--breathe!” Hermione gasped. “Don't worry, just a tad bit more,” he said, and pulled it so hard Hermione was surprised her ribs didn't crack. While she had been changing, Draco had gone around the room collecting possible dress robes for her to wear, and now he flicked his wand and floated several of them into the air. “Now, what House are you in, darling?” he queried, as he floated around the room choosing various dress robes and jewelry. “You don't have to wear your House colors, of course, what would someone do if their coloring just clashed completely with them? But one should try to have at least accents and accessories to show your allegiance, in my opinion. So what are you? You seem like a Ravenclaw.” “Actually, I don't have a House,” Hermione told him. “I'm Professor Dumbledore's private pupil.” Draco gasped, and the floating robes nearly fell to the floor before he rescued them and guided them to nearby hangers. “Really?” he cried. “I've heard of him doing that, but it's so rare! He only takes the most talented students as private pupils. Oh, I'm so envious! The magical power you must have, and the prestige! You simply must tell me all about it! Oh, we are going to be the best of friends, you and I!” Hermione winced. There was that dreaded word again! Well, at least she could tell Dumbledore that she'd made a friend and be kind of honest...ish... “And of course, you can wear any kind of color you want! You should be in something dazzling, something completely unique. But what?!” He ran around the room, considering and discarding robe after robe. “Nothing here is fit for the private pupil of Dumbledore! I'll just have to design something!” “Er,” said the witch. “Well. I really do have a lot more work to do.” “Of course dear, I'll just take your measurements-- no, leave the corset on, I want your measurements with it, silly witch-- and you can come back before the Feast for a fitting!” “Oh, uh, won't that be a lot of work? You really don't have to do all that for me...” “Don't be ridiculous, it will be my pleasure!” Hermione slumped; well, as much as she could slump in the horrible, restricting corset, anyway. Draco pointed his wand at her and said some incantations. A measuring tape flew up and measured everything that could be measured, from her waist to the length of each of her toes and the distance between her nostrils. “Oh, I'll get started on your robes right away. They'll be simply divine!” he cried, apparently rapturous. He skipped lightly over to a workstation and transfigured a mannequin, presumably to Hermione's measurements. “Quick, Dobby, undo the corset, before he changes his mind and wants to put even more things on me!” Hermione exclaimed. Dobby was still sighing over Draco, but he obediently unlaced her corset. Hermione pulled on her clothes and work robe as quickly as possible, and fled the Room of Requirement. “Shouldn't we at least say goodbye?” asked Dobby. “No,” she said firmly. “If he remembers I'm here he might make me try on more things.” The house elf reluctantly followed her out the door and down the hallway. “Wasn't he lovely?” Dobby sighed. “Uh, sure,” said Hermione. “Oh no!” the elf cried suddenly. “I just realized, Miss Hermione and Mister Draco never decided on a time for the fitting tomorrow. If we could just pop back there--” “No,” said Hermione, grabbing Dobby and yanking him away from the room. “If it's that important to him, he'll find me.” She really hoped that Draco forgot all about making her dress robes, or that he would be unable to find her tomorrow. Of course she couldn't say so to Dobby. “So what's next?” she asked him, hoping to take his mind off his new found crush. “Music. It's the last one. It says we should go outside, next to the lake.” “Oh, good. Just this and then I can get to the library, then! What kind of music is it?” “The instructions don't say,” Dobby told her. As they left the castle, Hermione could hear faint music, and it got louder as they neared the lake. It was strange, though, it didn't sound like any kind of music she'd ever heard. They must be using some obscure kind of instrument, she decided. The source of the music turned out to be a witch in bright yellow robes, using her wand as a conductor's baton as she led... a group of songbirds? Hermione stared at the bizarre sight. The witch didn't notice anyone was there, but as one of the birds lost the tempo, she stopped all of them and went over to the errant bird. “Excuse me, sir,” she said to the bird, “but your rhythm is a little off. Follow my wand for the beat, okay?” It looked almost like the bird nodded, but it must have just been Hermione's imagination. “Now let's start again. One, two, a-one, two, three, four--” “Excuse me,” Hermione said, before they could start singing again. The witch jumped in surprise, and the birds scattered. “You do know that the only sentient birds are owls and phoenixes, right? Only those birds can understand you when you speak to them.” “That's a very common misconception,” the witch said brightly. “But in fact, most birds are extremely intelligent, they just don't like to show it to wizards because they don't want to be put to work like the owls are.” “Er, no,” Hermione said, “that's not true at all. I'm Hermione, by the way, I'm just checking on the music for the End of Term Feast.” “I'm Luna Lovegood,” said the other witch. “And yes, it is true. My father recently wrote an article about it in our newspaper, the Quibbler.” Hermione looked Luna up and down. The first thing that caught your eye was her extremely bright yellow robes, that had little pink butterflies embroidered on just a small patch. Her long, dirty blonde hair would probably give Draco a conniption-- in fact, Hermione wondered if maybe she could bring along this girl to the fitting. The fashion-obsessed Slytherin would probably forget all about Hermione in his frenzy to give Luna a makeover. “Okay then,” she said, giving up on the point about the birds. “Well, it's certainly an unusual choice for music, but it sounds beautiful.” “Thank you,” said Luna. She looked thoughtful. “Did you say your name was Hermione Granger?” “Yes...” “Where have I heard-- oh! I remember who you are!” Luna exclaimed. “You're the witch that Dumbledore is grooming to take over the Ministry with him once you help Harry Potter defeat the Dark Lord once and for all!” “What.” “Oh, don't worry, my father and I support it! I mean, You-Know-Who needs to be defeated, of course, and we assume you and Dumbledore would be much better rulers of Wizarding Britain than Minister Fudge is... though really, I have to say, I really do think a democracy would be best. But when you attack the Ministry, we won't stand against you, or anything.” Hermione's mouth opened and closed, like a fish. “What-- who--” she sputtered. She collected herself and tried again. “What on Earth makes you think Dumbledore wants to take over the Ministry? Or that he wants me to help him?! Haven't tons of wizards asked him to run for Minister, but he's always refused?” “Of course, that's all part of his conspiracy,” Luna said, in confidential tones. “But you know that.” “No,” Hermione said. “Neither Dumbledore nor I have any interest in ruling Wizarding Britain.” “Of course not,” Luna said. “Your goal is to take over the entire Wizarding World.” Hermione nearly choked on her own saliva. “Why in the world would you think that?!” she cried. “Oh, my father found all sorts of proof. But I don't need to tell you, I mean, obviously you know that it's true.” “No, it most certainly is not!” “Oh. Right,” Luna said, with a wink. “I get it. You still have to deny it. No, you're not trying to take over the Wizarding World.” She gave another, very exaggerated wink. “ARRGH!” Hermione growled, tearing at her hair in frustration. (Draco would be angry later that she'd messed up her hairdo.) “Oh, Hermione, could I please have an interview with you? Everything we know about you so far is hearsay, my father and I would be so happy to actually get to ask you about yourself and your opinions, as future co-ruler of the world.” “For the last time, I am not going to take over the world!” Hermione exclaimed. “I'm not going to take over Magical Britain! I'm not going to take over anywhere, and neither is Professor Dumbledore! “Now,” she continued, “it looks like your birds are back, so I guess everything's in order. Keep up the good work, and good luck getting that one bird to stick to the beat. Bye now!” Hermione beckoned to Dobby and they turned to go, but to her dismay, Luna followed after her with a quick trot. “No, wait!” the strange witch said. “We can do the interview while you walk wherever you're going, so it won't waste any of your time!” “Don't you need to keep practicing with your birds?” Hermione asked hopefully. “No, they're mostly ready, and I can clean everything up tomorrow,” Luna answered brightly. “So! What made Dumbledore decide to make you his protege?” Though she was uncomfortable answering questions for this 'interview,' she couldn't just ignore the witch beside her completely. So reluctantly, Hermione answered. “When I was nine years old I accidentally performed a very advanced piece of magic,” she said . “But if an underage witch or wizard does magic, the Ministry is notified, not the Headmaster. So how did he find out?” “They had to Obliviate a whole lot of Muggles and... do some other things to clean up. They needed me to learn how to control my magic at least a bit, for everyone's safety. They contacted Hogwarts to get an appropriate teacher, so Dumbledore came.” “So it was the Ministry who told Dumbledore about you? And they know that he's teaching you privately?” “Of course they know,” Hermione said, annoyed. “It's not exactly a secret, is it?” “Hermione,” Luna said, looking very serious and troubled, “Have you considered that the Ministry has probably put a bounty on your head?” Hermione looked down at Dobby and raised her eyebrows. He just shrugged at her. The conversation went a lot like that for most of the walk back to Hermione's room. By the time she finally arrived, she was just about on her last nerve. “Well, this was really interesting,” she said, “but I have a whole lot of studying to do.” “What are you studying?” Luna asked. “Why don't you use the Hogwarts library?” She sighed as she took out her wand and unlocked the door. “I do use the Hogwarts library, but I keep a lot of books it doesn't have in my own collection. Good luck with the music.” But Luna rushed in through the door before Hermione could stop her. “No, I want to see where you live, see what books are off-limits to Hogwarts students!” “They're not off-limits,” she said, as she entered the dark room and flicked her wand towards the lamps. “They just--” “SURPRISE!” Please review!
