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Chapter Text

Hermione Granger’s body felt heavy and dense. She couldn’t see anything, yet dizziness swirled relentlessly, making it difficult to tell whether she was waking or sinking further into sleep.

Somewhere away from her, a soft sound flickered with life, rising and fading like tiny explosions. It felt distant, unreachable. 

For a long moment, she lay still, gathering the resolve to open her eyes while fearing what she might see.

Eventually, she forced herself to do it.

Like a true Gryffindor

A fireplace roared in the distance, flames lively and bright, as though it had just been lit. Yet the air around her was warm, comfortably so, suggesting it had been burning for quite some time. The fear she’d worked herself into felt ridiculous now. It was only a fireplace, and a familiar one at that.

Lifting her head proved uncomfortable, made worse by the realization that she’d fallen asleep on top of a book. The faint sting of creases pressed into her cheek lingered as she shifted. Taking in her surroundings, recognition settled over her.

The Hogwarts Library.

Safe. Familiar.

The anxiety she’d felt moments before already seemed misplaced.

A dull throb pulsed behind her eyes, as though something inside her skull was trying to force its way out. She must have been studying too hard. Merlin knew she didn’t remember the last time she’d eaten.

The thought stalled her.

In fact, she didn’t remember much of anything. No matter how hard she tried, the reason she’d come to the library refused to surface. Stranger still, her hands felt wrong. Smaller. Cleaner.

The sensation unsettled her, though she quickly dismissed it. She was overtired, that was all. If Harry or Ron saw her spiraling over something so trivial, they’d think she’d finally lost her mind.

She needed to get back to the common room. She had no idea what time it was.

Gathering her belongings felt oddly disorienting, though she couldn’t have said why. As her fingers brushed the book she’d been sleeping on, a sudden awareness prickled at the back of her neck.

She wasn’t alone.

Between two towering bookcases stood Draco Malfoy.

He looked exactly as she expected him to. Pale, sharp-featured, his expression already twisted into something disdainful, as though the very air around her offended him.

“Of course it’s you, Mudblood,” he said, his voice cutting cleanly through the quiet of the library. “Have you finally decided to move into the library? I imagine even your own house has had enough of you”

Hermione felt irritation rise immediately, sharp and familiar. If he thought insulting her work ethic would land any sort of blow, he was even thicker than usual.

She rolled her eyes and slung her bag over her shoulder, turning away without a word. Malfoy wasn’t worth an answer.

He scoffed behind her.

“Didn’t your Muggle parents teach you any manners, Granger?” he called, sounding genuinely affronted. “When someone speaks to you, you’re meant to answer.”

“You’re not worth answering, Malfoy,” Hermione replied, not slowing her pace.

“I’m surprised,” he said lightly, ”that a bookworm, like you, would treat a book so disgracefully,” she stopped despite herself. “Drooling all over the pages. Honestly.”

Her ears burned. She sincerely hoped she hadn’t drooled.

She turned just in time to see him reaching the table she’d left behind. He picked up the book, inspecting it with exaggerated disgust.

I should have taken it

Just because she couldn’t remember why she’d been reading it didn’t mean it wasn’t important.

“Let’s see what could possibly have bored you enough to warrant that,” Malfoy sneered. “Attacking a book with your saliva…”

That stung, though not for the reason he probably intended. No book was boring. The idea itself felt offensive.

She turned sharply and began walking away, her steps quickening with each stride. Something about the situation felt wrong. Not just Malfoy, but the way he moved, the way the air seemed to hang too still around him.

She heard the book hit the table as he dropped it, followed by a laugh.

“Dragons.” Malfoy said, sounding faintly amused.

The word stopped her cold.

“I was wondering,” he went on, his voice sharpening, “why you’d suddenly take such interest in dragons. You’re not planning to keep one, are you?”

Hermione exhaled, more in disbelief than irritation.

“Again?” he added, clearly enjoying himself.

Of course. Norbert. 

She hadn’t thought about that in ages, yet Malfoy clearly hadn’t forgotten.

“Too bad you can’t prove anything, Malfoy,” she said, glancing back at him with a thin smile.

He was smirking, as though he’d been waiting for the opening.

“Or perhaps you’re doing research for Potter?”

He gestured proudly to the badge pinned to his robes. Potter Stinks, gleaming obnoxiously in green.

Her frown came immediately. How does he know?

Malfoy stepped closer, and a chill crept up her spine.

“Worried he might get eaten?” he murmured. Another step. “I’ve already placed a few bets on it”

He paused deliberately.

“For the first task.” he finished

Hermione’s pulse spiked.

“And how exactly do you know about that, Malfoy?” she demanded. 

Keeping the creatures in the Forbidden Forest had been smart, but Harry wasn’t the only student capable of wandering where he shouldn’t. Rumours could spread. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Mudblood,” Malfoy said lightly.

Then he brushed past her, heading for the exit as though the conversation bored him.

Hermione waited until his footsteps faded before releasing a breath. She returned to the table and retrieved the book, tucking it into her bag. Madam Pince was nowhere in sight. She’d deal with the consequences later.

Hermione left the library quickly, the weight of the stolen book settling uncomfortably in her bag. The further she put between herself and the tall shelves, the more aware she became of how quiet everything was.

The fountain in the central hall burbled softly, its mermaid statues moving slowly around, as if dancing. Their stone eyes seemed to follow her as she passed, as though quietly questioning why she was alone.

Hogwarts was never truly empty. Even late at night there were footsteps, murmurs, portraits whispering among themselves. Now there was nothing but the echo of her own shoes against the stone.

She paused by the fountain and opened her bag, pulling out the book Malfoy had mocked so eagerly.

 A Compendium of Dragon Breeds.

No notes. No folded corners. Exactly as she would have left it. Useful, certainly, but that didn’t explain why she couldn’t remember coming here for it in the first place.

Her head throbbed again, sharper this time.

She snapped the bag shut, irritation bubbling up. Harry needed this information. Ron too, if he would only stop sulking long enough to listen. The idea that Harry had entered himself into the Tournament was ridiculous, and Ron’s refusal to see that still made her jaw tighten.

Out of nowhere,a sound cut through her thoughts.

It was loud. Startlingly loud.

Bells rang out, echoing through the stone corridors, reverberating off walls and staircases alike. Hermione froze as the sound washed over her, her heart leaping into her throat.

She knew that sound. Not from Hogwarts.

It reminded her of primary school, of rigid schedules and sharp transitions. 

Hogwarts doesn’t need bells. Students are expected to manage time themselves.

The ringing faded, leaving an uncomfortable silence behind.

Then a voice filled the space, just as unnatural as the bells had been. It seemed to come from everywhere at once, slipping through arches and corridors, vibrating in the air itself.

“To all students currently at Hogwarts!” the voice announced brightly, its tone eager, almost giddy. “I would like to begin the introduction to your new lives here right now! Please make your way to the Great Hall at your earliest convenience! That is all. I’ll be waiting!” The voice faded.

Hermione stared at the fountain.

“Currently at Hogwarts?” she murmured. “Where else would we be?”

The mermaids, unhelpfully, continued staring ahead.

Her stomach twisted. 

It must be a prank. It has to be.

But whoever was behind it would need an incredibly powerful Sonorus charm to reach the entire castle.

And yet, she couldn’t see anyone. Not a single student. No professors. No ghosts drifting lazily through walls. She turned slowly, scanning the hall.

The paintings are empty.

Every frame showed only a painted background. No figures. No movement.

Her throat tightened.

“This has gone from strange to very, very wrong,” she said aloud, her voice sounding too loud in the emptiness.

Prank or not, the Great Hall was the heart of Hogwarts. If something was happening, it would be there.

She headed for the Defense Against the Dark Arts corridor first, choosing speed over caution. When she reached the door, she barely registered the resistance at first.

She tried again.

Nothing.

She twisted the handle, pushed, pulled but the door didn’t budge. Frowning, she drew her wand.

“Alohomora.” and nothing happened.

Hermione stared at the door, a thin line forming between her brows.

The spell should have worked. Whatever is sealing it is stronger. Far stronger.

She turned away, pulse quickening, and made for the Viaduct Bridge instead, thinking if she crossed the courtyard, she could reach the Great Hall from outside.

The night air hit her immediately when she reached the door. So it is night. That explained the absence of students, at least.

It did not explain why this door wouldn’t open either.

She tried anyway. Pushed. Pulled. Cast Alohomora again.

Nothing.

A flicker of panic sparked in her chest. Her thoughts jumped, unhelpfully, to Malfoy. It was ridiculous. She shook her head. He wasn’t capable of this. No student was.

I guess the only way forward is…

The dungeons.

She grimaced, but turned back, her footsteps echoing as she descended the stairs and slipped into the colder corridors below. The stone walls pressed closer here, the air damp and heavy.

She told herself Malfoy had plenty of time to be gone.

He hadn’t.

He stood alone in the corridor ahead, facing the wall, his head bowed slightly. His lips moved in a frantic whisper. Hermione slowed, watching him for a moment before understanding dawned.

The Slytherin common room entrance.

She remembered Harry and Ron sneaking inside during second year, Polyjuice and all. She remembered the hospital wing. The fur. The tail.

Malfoy must have sensed her presence, because he turned suddenly, panic flashing across his face before hardening into fury.

“What are you gawking at, Mudblood?” he snapped. “Following me now, are you?”

“No,” Hermione said flatly. “Every route to the Great Hall is blocked. This is the only one left.”

He stared at her, disbelief plain on his face.

“So if you don’t mind,” she continued, stepping past him, “I’m just passing through.”

She took the stairs two at a time, determined not to linger.

“Don’t mind me,” she added over her shoulder. “You can carry on whispering to the wall.”

“Don’t tell me you’re actually heading there,” Malfoy called after her. “You can’t be that thick.”

She stopped and turned, crossing her arms.

“Your precious Gryffindor lot are messing about again and you don’t even see it?” He scoffed and looked at her with what could be considered a look of pity. “Left out by your own lot? Bit embarrassing”

“This isn’t a prank,” she said. It came out firmer than she felt. “That voice wasn’t anyone from Gryffindor.”

“Oh, is that so?” Malfoy sneered. “Then explain why my common room’s locked, Granger. You just said every other door is as well.”

She didn’t answer. That’s what I need to find.

She turned away and continued up the stairs, leaving Malfoy behind in the shadows of the dungeon.

Moments later, she emerged into the Entrance Hall. The portraits here were empty as well.

I have to find out what’s going on, I have to find Harry.

She ascended the stairs and entered the reception hall. She remembered the feeling she’d had when she first stepped into it four years ago, small and ignorant but buzzing with excitement. Now she only felt anxious. 

The hourglasses stood tall against the wall, utterly empty. The bright colorful marbles that marked all the hard earned house points she eagerly fought for, were gone from each one, as if the term had not yet begun at all.

If this is a joke, they’d better put every single point back.

Footsteps echoed behind her, someone was approaching from the grand staircase. There had been no sound of the stairs moving at all, she narrowed her eyes, trying to make out who it was.

A familiar face came into view, dark eyes and deep olive skin, and the longest braid Hermione had ever seen. She almost called out the wrong name before noticing the house badge sewn onto her robes. 

Padma.

“Hermione?” Padma called, uncertainty in her voice.

“Padma!” Hermione stepped towards her.

“What’s going on?” They blurted out at the same time. 

Padma fell quiet and Hermione pushed past her own embarrassment.

“I honestly don’t know. I was in the library when I heard this strange voice and bells. Muggle ones.” Padma’s eyebrows shot up in recognition “I’m assuming you’ve heard it too?” 

“Yes… I woke up in a classroom.” Padma glanced down, frowning as she searched her memory “I tried going back to Ravenclaw Tower but the stairs wouldn’t move and the doors wouldn’t open. Not even with Alohamora”

So the stairs are frozen too.

“I had the same problem” Hermione said “The doors to the viaduct and the defense against dark arts tower were locked as well” She hesitated “Did you see anyone else before you came here?” 

“No” Padma said quietly “Did you?”

Hermione paused, not sure if it was worth mentioning.

“Yes. though I doubt he'll be much help, I ran into Draco briefly, in the Dungeons” 

Padma gave a resigned nod, clearly in agreement.

“What do you think this is about?” Padma asked uncertainly “Some sort of joke or prank?”

Hermione sighed “I don’t know either. We may as well just find out” 

She turned back to the doors of the Great hall and froze. Two figures were coming up from the entrance hall, from the very same direction she herself had just come. 

Draco Malfoy, and someone else.

He was shorter than Draco, but he stood just as straight, just as composed.

His brown hair was neatly combed to the side, a few curls softening at the ends. Theodore Nott.

Or Just Theo is fine, as Hermione once remembered hearing him tell Pansy back in first year.

They regarded the girls in silence. Draco wore his usual expression of open disdain. Theo, by contrast, looked merely curious.

Neither spoke, and after a moment, Theo turned and walked towards the Great hall, disappearing inside without a word. Draco followed a second later.

Almost immediately, a loud, familiar gasp echoed from within.

“Draco!” Pansy Parkinson’s voice rang out across the hall.

So there are others here.

A dull thump followed, the unmistakable sound of bodies colliding. Padma exchanged a bewildered look with Hermione, and without another word, they moved towards the Great hall together.

Upon entering, Hermione noticed that there were others aside from Pansy; huddled at the Gryffindor table was Harry and Ron. By the way they were awkwardly standing, with Ginny in between them, she realised they were probably still not speaking to each other. Ginny looked so small between the two of them, small, gentle, timid. For some reason that did not sound like Ginny at all, and yet that was exactly who she was at the moment.

I feel like I'm losing my mind, why does everything feel wrong?

“Hermione!” Ron called from the table, waving at her rather desperately.

Padma touched her shoulder, making Hermione jump.

“I can see a few Ravenclaws over there,” Padma said quietly. “I’m going to see if they know anything, all right?”

Hermione nodded. “I’ll talk to Harry. He might’ve worked something out already.”

Padma gave her a tight smile and turned away.

They headed in opposite directions. Hermione glanced around and picked out a few familiar faces. At the Hufflepuff table sat Ernie Macmillan, hunched forward with his hands clasped together, looking overwhelmed. Beside him sat Justin Finch-Fletchley, speaking to him in a low voice, his body angled protectively towards Ernie.

At the Ravenclaw table, Terry Booth and Michael Corner sat close together, murmuring to one another.

In the background, Pansy Parkinson was being impossibly loud, demanding to know whether Draco was all right. She had flung her arms around him dramatically. Draco, stiff as a board, looked utterly unimpressed and thoroughly miserable about the attention.

I don’t like the look of this.

Hermione reached the Gryffindor table and noticed someone else standing there. Neville straightened at once, offering an awkward smile.

“Hiya, Hermione.”

“Hi. Does anyone have the faintest idea what’s going on?” she asked.

“Not a clue,” Harry replied shortly. “But I’ve got a few theories.”

Ron turned away at that, his jaw set.

Ginny looked at Hermione then, her expression almost pleading, as though she were silently asking her to intervene. The tension between the three of them was thick enough to trip over.

“All right,” Hermione said carefully. “Let’s start with something simple. Where was everyone before the bells rang? Before the voice.”

No one spoke for a moment. Then Neville cleared his throat.

“I woke up in the entrance hall,” he said, faltering slightly. “No one else was there. Then I heard the bells, really loud ones, and a voice telling us to come to the Great Hall. So I did. I ran into Ernie on the way.” He gestured vaguely towards the Hufflepuff table. “Justin turned up not long after. Ernie seemed pretty shaken.”

Hermione nodded. It matched what she’d suspected. Everyone waking up alone. Strange locations. The bells. The voice.

She scanned the Great Hall again, counting.

Three Ravenclaws at their table: Padma, Terry, and Michael. At Hufflepuff, Ernie and Justin sat close, still talking quietly. At Slytherin, Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass sat together with Theo Nott. Pansy was still clinging to Draco near the doors; he looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else.

Three Ravenclaws. Two Hufflepuff. Five Slytherins. Five Gryffindors.

She looked again.

No other Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaw, yet.

“Hermione,” Harry said quietly, his tone grave. “Do you reckon this could be Voldemort’s doing?”

She winced at the name. Ron scowled, clearly displeased it had been said aloud at all.

“I don’t know,” Hermione said honestly. “It’s strange, obviously. But this is Hogwarts. It’s meant to be the safest place there is. He shouldn’t be able to get anywhere near it.”

“Oh, come off it,” Ron said, folding his arms and perching on the edge of the table. “It’s a joke. Has to be. Probably Fred and George mucking about.”

“Why would they do this without saying anything?” Ginny asked. “They’d warn us first. Wouldn’t they?”

“I don’t think it’s a joke,” Hermione said, glancing back towards the Great Hall doors. “But none of this makes sense. Does anyone else feel… off?”

“Off how?” Harry asked.

“I feel fine,” Ron said, stifling a yawn. “Tired, if anything.”

“I feel… small,” Ginny said quietly.

Hermione turned to her at once.

“Small?” she prompted.

“I don’t feel right,” Ginny went on. “Like something’s missing. Like I’m not properly… myself.”

“That’s rubbish,” Ron said briskly. “You’re exactly the same as ever, Gin. Still an annoying thirteen-year-old.”

Ginny punched him hard in the leg.

“Oi! What was that for?”

Hermione frowned.

“So it’s not just me,” she said slowly.

She looked between them. “Harry. Ron. Where did you wake up?”

They explained they’d both woken up alone, in different places, all oddly close to the Great Hall. Ginny said the same. None of them had been able to open certain doors along the way. Neither were they sure of the reason why they had been there or what they were doing at all.

Hermione considered standing to question the others, but her eyes flicked briefly towards the Slytherin table and she hesitated.

“Something’s not right,” she said at last. “There aren’t any professors. No portraits. No ghosts. That shouldn’t be possible.”

No one contradicted her.

“I was in the library,” she continued. “Apparently revising dragons. I didn’t even remember doing it at first.” She stopped herself. “All I know is that I’m fifteen, it’s our fourth year, and Harry’s in trouble because someone put his name into the Goblet of Fire.”

Ron snorted.

“Oh, honestly, Ron,” Hermione snapped. “Harry wouldn’t put his own name in. You two need to stop being so—”

“Thick?” Ginny suggested, a hint of a smile returning.

“Immature,” Hermione said firmly. “This is serious. And the last thing we need is the pair of you at each other’s throats. Please.”

Before any of the boys could reply, the sound of doors opening echoed through the hall. Every head turned toward the noise.

Cedric Diggory entered first, his hand firmly clasped around Cho Chang’s. Behind them came more students, their faces mirroring the same confusion Hermione felt tightening in her chest. She recognised Zacharias Smith and Hannah Abbott from Hufflepuff, both in the same year as her. Trailing behind them was someone else Hermione knew of, though she had never spoken to her directly, only heard about her in passing from Ginny.

Her long blonde hair stood out immediately, threaded with several butterfly clips, tiny and multicoloured, a fashion choice Hermione would never have made herself, not unless she’d been about five.

“That’s Luna Lovegood,” Ginny said quietly. “She’s in my year.”

Something clicked uncomfortably in Hermione’s mind

Years.

She looked around the Great Hall again. Most of them were in their fourth year, with only a few exceptions: Ginny, and now Cedric, Cho, and Luna. She wasn’t sure whether she was noticing a pattern or inventing one out of nerves, but one thing stood out all the same.

With their arrival, there were exactly twenty students in the room.

Five students per house. For now.

“I don’t think we’re meant to leave again,” Hermione heard Luna say. Her voice was soft and melodic, yet the way she said it was almost devoid of feeling, and that, more than the words themselves, struck Hermione as deeply unnerving.

The moment Luna stepped fully into the Great Hall, the doors slammed shut again, this time with violence. The sound cracked through the hall and echoed up into the enchanted ceiling, followed by the unmistakable click of locking mechanisms sliding into place.

Hermione looked up. The familiar stars were gone. In their place, darkness spread, and one by one the floating candles above them began to extinguish, their light snuffed out as though by an unseen hand.

No one spoke. Hermione’s gaze followed the dying flames until only two candles remained, hovering directly above the headmaster’s chair.

Dumbledore’s chair stood illuminated beneath them, empty and expectant. For a long moment, nothing happened.

Then the bells returned.

Ding. Dong. Bing. Bong.

In an instant, something began to form above the chair. At first it looked like a length of rope suspended in midair, swaying slightly. Then it stretched, thickened, its surface shifting as skin became scale, glossy and alive.

Hermione watched, unable to look away, as the shape twisted and coiled through the air, turning over itself with an almost lazy grace until it was fully formed. Only then did it begin to descend, lowering itself deliberately until it settled upon the headmaster’s chair.

It was a snake. And yet, not like any snake Hermione had ever seen. Though no longer than an ordinary one, it was enormous in bulk, thick and heavy, almost absurdly so. The first thought that crossed her mind was that it resembled a snake someone might conjure as a boggart, exaggerated purely for cruel amusement. It was impossibly chunky for its length.

Its colouring was just as unsettling. The body was divided cleanly, almost perfectly, into two solid colours. Black. And white.

What Hermione Granger was witnessing was utterly incomprehensible and yet, there it was.

Before she could even begin to process it, a voice rang out from the snake.

“Great timing, everyone!”

The voice was cheerful, almost cartoonish, like something out of a Muggle children’s programme. Then it hit her. The snake was talking and she understood every word.

Her eyes snapped to Harry’s, silently asking whether this was Parseltongue. Harry, as if reading her thoughts, met her gaze and shook his head.

Silence fell over the Great Hall.

“Is that a snake?” Ron exclaimed, his voice thick with disbelief.

“A snake?” the creature replied. “Oh no no no! I’m much more than a snake!”

It laughed, shifting forward on the chair, coils tightening as though deliberately showing itself off.

“That’s just my shape!”

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. Whatever this thing was, it talked, joked, laughed. All the right notes for an elaborate prank and yet nothing about it felt right. Whatever they had stumbled into, it went far beyond a joke.

“You may call me Monomort!” the snake continued. “That’s M-O-N-O-M-O-R-T, if anyone’s taking notes. And you’ll want to. I do hate repeating myself!”

The bells rang again, or at least Hermione thought they did. This time, they seemed to echo only inside her head. The name alone made her stomach twist. It alluded far too closely to the fear she refused to name, the fear Harry had voiced again and again.

“If this is a joke,” Harry said, his voice low and dangerous, “it’s not very funny.”

“Oh, but this is not a joke! Nor a prank! And it certainly isn’t a lesson either!”

The snake appeared to smile. Hermione didn’t even know snakes could speak English, let alone smile.

“This is Hogwarts. This is school. Which therefore makes me…”

It paused deliberately, savoring the moment.

“Your Headmaster.”

Ron scoffed loudly.

“As if! Dumbledore’s our headmaster. Now whoever’s controlling that thing, just come out already. This isn’t funny.” He folded his arms stubbornly.

Murmurs rippled through the hall.

“Dumbledore is dead,” Monomort said pleasantly.

The words themselves were shocking enough, but the tone was worse. Calm. Light. Almost amused.

“That can’t be!” someone cried behind her.

“What a joke,” another muttered.

“If only it were true,” came a voice from somewhere further back.

“Enough of this,” Padma called sharply from the Ravenclaw table. “We’re students. We’ve got lessons tomorrow.”

“Let’s all calm down,” Cedric said, his voice even and diplomatic. “It’s just an enchanted snake.” He gestured towards Monomort. “Whoever’s behind this has done some impressive spellwork, but it’s time we all went to bed. We’re lucky the teachers haven’t noticed.”

“Worry not, Mr Diggory,” Monomort replied brightly. “You’ll all be able to sleep soon. But not before I explain exactly what your lives at Hogwarts are going to look like from now on. As your Headmaster—”

“SHUT UP!” Harry shouted.

Ron grabbed his arm instantly, as though bracing for him to lunge forward.

“Alright!” Ron shouted as well. “Whoever’s enchanting that snake, come out! Fred? George? Come on, this has gone far enough!”

“I don’t think this is Fred and George,” Ginny said quietly. Her eyes had not left the snake since it appeared.

“Now, now,” Monomort went on, speaking rapidly, clearly determined not to be interrupted again. “I understand you’re all confused, but it’s the absolute truth! I am your Headmaster from now until the end of your lives. Everyone will live in harmony together and follow the school rules and regulations! You will live a communal life right here inside Hogwarts. Eat, sleep, learn and live together!”

“It sounds an awful lot like what we already do,” Draco drawled from the Slytherin table. “Though I’m sure my father will be thrilled to hear about it.”

“Yes, yes,” Monomort said cheerfully. “Very similar to your current life. With just one or two small differences. For one, this communal life has no end date.”

The silence that followed was absolute.

“You’re completely cut off from the outside world! No need to worry about anything beyond these walls ever again!”

Someone gasped.

Then Monomort’s voice shifted, the cheer draining from it.

“No more worrying about exams, the Ministry, or anything war-related at all!”

Hermione frowned. War-related? There hadn’t been a war since Voldemort’s defeat fourteen years ago.

“No matter how much you scream, send messages, or try to cast spells out,” the snake continued calmly, “help will not come.”

Hermione heard noises behind her, scoffs and huffs thick with irritability. The students were getting fed up with the situation and were clearly having none of it, not believing a word that came out of the snake’s mouth. Terry Boot scraped his bench loudly against the stone floor as he stood and made his way towards the door. Hermione faintly caught his angry mutter, “I’m sick of this,” as he stomped across the hall.

He grabbed the handle angrily, only to gasp in pain the very next second.

“What is this? Are you having a laugh?!” Terry clutched his right hand to his chest. “Open the bloody door and let us out!”

“Sit down, Mr Boot. I have not finished this meeting,” Monomort said dangerously. “You’ll be let out when I dismiss you.”

As soon as the words left him, Monomort flicked his tail subtly. In the next instant, Terry Boot’s body lifted into the air and was hurled back into the Ravenclaw table, his shouts of profanity echoing across the hall as he went.

“You might want to ice that hand after we’re done, Mr Boot!” Monomort added cheerfully.

“Sod off, you fat snake!” Terry yelled, Michael grabbing him and forcing him back into his seat.

Monomort elected to ignore the insult and continued his speech. Hermione stood there with her mouth slightly open in disbelief. There was no denying it now. This was dangerous. And yet it was nothing like anything she had imagined. She almost felt the urge to pinch herself, just to be sure she was awake.

This is absurd. This isn’t real.

“Like I was saying,” Monomort continued, “you’ll have plenty of time to find out whether what I’m telling you is true. And when that time comes, you’ll understand there’s no use fighting back!”

Chaos erupted immediately.

Accusations were hurled across the room. Terry Boot resumed shouting a fresh string of swears. Pansy Parkinson shot to her feet after Padma told her to shut her mouth and implied that Slytherin was behind the whole thing. Theo rested his head in his hand, looking as though sheer boredom had overtaken him. 

Cedric and Cho tried to calm everyone down, to no avail. Ernie stared straight ahead without blinking, as if his spirit had momentarily left his body.

Luna, meanwhile, smiled serenely, watching the chaos unfold. Her head swayed gently from side to side, almost as though she were listening to music no one else could hear.

“This has certainly taken a turn,” Neville muttered. “Look, this is too… weird.” He lowered his voice. “There’s no way this is You-Know-Who.”

“It has to be,” Harry whispered back, clearly distressed. “That thing’s name practically rhymes with Voldemort. Who else would choose a name like that?”

“Mate,” Ron whispered, incredulous, “do you really think You-Know-Who would conjure up a snake and trap a bunch of fourth-years in Hogwarts? For what purpose?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Harry replied dryly. “Maybe because he wants me dead?”

“Is your scar hurting, Harry?” Ginny whispered. “If it were him, it’d be burning, wouldn’t it?”

“No, it doesn’t hurt,” Harry said with a sigh. “But that doesn’t mean he’s not behind this.”

No one argued.

“What are we supposed to do?” Hermione said quietly. “The snake can use magic. And it looks like it can control the castle itself. That shouldn’t be possible.”

A loud slam echoed through the hall, cutting off the shouting at once. Monomort’s tail now rested atop the professors’ table. Everyone stared.

“My, my, you lot certainly are chaotic,” Monomort said mockingly. “But I suppose I did forget to mention one thing. There is a way for you to leave the school.”

“And miss this delightful communal life you’ve mentioned? We could never,” Draco drawled sarcastically. “Go on then.”

“As Headmaster, I’ve created a special clause for those who wish to leave,” Monomort said cheerfully. “Like I mentioned before, in order to live in harmony here, we have to follow the rules. And if someone were to disrupt that harmony…” He paused dramatically. “They, and they alone, would be allowed to leave this school.”

“What do you mean by disrupting the harmony?” Blaise asked from across the hall.

“Oh, you know,” Monomort replied with a giggle, “if one person were to, say, murder another.”

It wants us dead.

No one quite knew what to say. The silence was deafening.

“Murder?!” Ron exclaimed in disbelief. Before he could call it bollocks, Monomort continued.

“How you do it doesn’t matter! Use magic, or use your fists!” Monomort said, clearly amused. “Maybe grab a knife after dinner and go to town! All is fair in the way of murder!”

What the…

“Oh, except for Avada Kedavra, of course. None of you are actually able to cast it anyway!” He wiggled his tail in the air, almost teasingly. “I bet that if you all tried it right now, nothing but a smidge of green light would come out!”

“And how would you know that?” Harry snapped. He had reached his limit now, stepping slowly towards the professors’ table, Ron close behind him.

“You really have to mean an Unforgivable Curse, Mr Potter! But you’re welcome to try any others you fancy!” Monomort laughed maniacally. “Or perhaps smother someone with a pillow while they sleep! You have to kill someone if you want to leave!”

Murmurs rippled through the hall. Harry stopped and turned, disheartened.

“Hey! Don’t you even think about that madness!” he shouted to the room. “This is Voldemort we’re talking about!”

The name alone made several people gasp.

“You lot just don’t get it!” Monomort snapped. “From this moment on, Hogwarts is your life, understand? And you can kill as much as you want! So go on, then!”

Harry finally pulled out his wand. Ron followed suit immediately, stepping in beside him, determined to have Harry’s back. Under any other circumstances, Hermione might have felt relieved to see them united again, but the reality was far worse. The snake looked angered now, almost offended by their defiance.

“I’m not letting you take this castle, Voldemort!” Harry shouted, pointing his wand directly at the snake’s head. “I don’t believe a single word you’ve said. Dumbledore cannot be dead! I don’t know what you’ve done to come back, but I’m making sure you’re gone for good this time!”

“Violence against the Headmaster is against school regulations!” Monomort hissed, its body trembling with fury.

Harry’s wand moved with the familiar precision of the disarming charm they had learned in second year.

“Expelliarmus!”

Both Ron and Harry shouted the spell at once. What surprised Hermione most was Ron’s instinctive timing, as though he had read Harry’s mind, perfectly matching his impulsive strike. Time seemed to slow as the spells flew towards the snake, but once again, a simple flick of its tail was enough.

Hermione watched in horror as the bright red spells rebounded, slamming back into Harry and Ron. Their wands flew from their hands and skidded violently across the stone floor behind her.

There was no sound. Time seemed to stop.

“Morsmordre!” Monomort screeched.

A bright green light burst from its thick body and shot into the false sky above. Every head in the Great Hall tilted upwards as the light twisted and curled, forming the unmistakable image of a skull with a serpent emerging from its mouth. It was mesmerising, terrifyingly so. Had Hermione never seen it before, she might have found it impressive, even artistic. Instead, it filled her with the same dread she had felt that summer at the Quidditch World Cup, when that very same mark hovered above them after the death eater attack on the camping grounds. The students were quiet, their gazes flickering between the Dark Mark above and the snake before them. Hermione took the moment to grab the two wands on the floor.

“Only a Death Eater… or Vold —” Neville began, unable to finish the name, “could cast that spell.”

Hermione rested a steadying hand against both Harry’s and Ron’s backs. They startled briefly, then relaxed as they met her eyes. She placed their wands back into their hands, nodding slowly, urging caution, urging thought.

“Now that we’re all calm and composed,” Monomort returned to its cheerful tone, “I have a gift for you!”

With another flick of its tail, a book appeared in front of every student. It was thin and pocket-sized, hovering expectantly in the air.

“This is the official Hogwarts Student Handbook!”

Hermione could not stop herself from immediately grabbing the book in front of her. She opened it at once and found that the very first page bore her full name in bold lettering.

This handbook belongs to

Hermione Jean Granger

“This handbook is vital to a healthy school life, so do be careful not to lose it!” Monomort continued brightly.

Hermione noticed other students doing the same, opening their own copies and flicking through the pages. At the Slytherin table, Draco and Pansy had both slapped their handbooks away in visible disgust.

“It contains all school regulations,” Monomort went on. “Any violation will not be tolerated! Oh, and do not try to destroy it either. It is completely spell-proof.”

Hermione flipped through the pages. The first section contained the regulations Monomort had mentioned. After that, the notebook was entirely blank. She assumed this meant new rules could be added whenever necessary. She kept turning pages until she reached text again.

The final pages listed curses and spells that could be used for murder, complete with explicit descriptions and wand-movement instructions.

She read through them carefully, recognizing some, but noticing others she had never seen before. That unsettled her more than anything else so far.

“And with that, I conclude this meeting!” Monomort announced. “I’m sure you all have questions, but alas, it is late, and you should probably rest!”

The snake began to rise into the air, floating upward like an overfilled balloon.

“I will be opening some doors,” it added, “but keep in mind that certain areas of the castle will remain closed off for now! Please enjoy your dreary school life!”

The monochrome snake rose higher still before disappearing with a loud pop, as though it had Apparated away.

Hermione took note of that immediately. According to Hogwarts, A History, it should have been impossible to Apparate into or out of Hogwarts.

The doors to the Great Hall unlocked with a loud clatter, almost inviting the students to explore. Still, most of them remained where they were. The Slytherins were the first to leave. They spoke little, merely exchanging brief nods before rising and filing out as quickly as possible.

Hermione found their behaviour suspicious, yet something held her back from jumping to conclusions. They were students too. Even if some of their families were closely tied to Voldemort, that did not make them guilty. They might be in just as much danger as everyone else.

Those who remained gathered near the Gryffindor table. Questions and theories flew around, and with Voldemort at the centre of it all, the group naturally turned to Harry. Even Cedric seemed to accept him as a leader without hesitation.

Harry, however, stood awkwardly, clearly unsure of himself. He answered what questions he could, sharing his thoughts on Voldemort and the situation as best he knew how. But when someone finally asked what they should do, his eyes darted towards Hermione in quiet panic.

“Well, I think there are a few things we need to establish first,” Hermione said, nerves prickling as every face turned towards her. “We need to find out which parts of Hogwarts we can currently access. Common rooms, bathrooms, any exits to the outside.”

Her words began to rush as her thoughts gathered momentum.

“We also need to check whether we still have access to the kitchens for food. And we need to know if there are any portraits that aren’t empty, or if there are any ghosts, teachers, or other students still within the grounds.”

Deep down, Hermione already suspected the answer to that last question. The idea that there was anyone else in Hogwarts besides the twenty of them felt highly improbable.

“Right,” Harry said, finally sounding decisive. “Then we split into teams. We should check the windows as well.”

With Cedric’s help, Harry began assigning small groups and tasks. As he turned towards Hermione, clearly about to include her, she gently stopped him.

“I’m going to the library,” she said at once.

Harry frowned, confused.

“Trust me,” Hermione added. “The best place I can be right now is the library.”

She lifted the student handbook slightly in emphasis. Understanding dawned on his face.

“I trust you, Hermione” he said. “We’ll come and get you once we’ve found out more, alright?”

Hermione nodded and hurried out of the Great Hall, her mind already racing.

Magical Creatures.

Defensive Magic.

Hogwarts, A History.

Titles surfaced one after another, some familiar, others still waiting to be found.

Looks like I’m pulling an all-nighter.

Chapter Text

Hermione entered the library with purpose, heading straight for the same table where she had awakened not even two hours earlier. She paused to take it in. The oak table stood exactly as she had left it, the chair still pulled out as though inviting her to sit once more, the fireplace still radiating warmth and light.

She let out a slow breath, set her book bag down on the table, and began unloading its contents. Several quills and ink pots followed, along with a perfectly intact sugar quill, which Hermione still favored over any other sweet. There were notebooks and parchments as well, and finally, the book she had taken on dragons.

“I suppose this isn’t necessary anymore…” she murmured sadly.

Deep down, she would far rather see her best friend facing a dragon than whatever this situation had turned into.

She set the book aside, resolving to return it to its rightful place as soon as she could, and began arranging what she decided to call her workstation.

First, I have to analyze this handbook.

In her haste to return to the library, she had shoved the small book into her robe pocket. It was just compact enough to fit there. She suspected that was intentional, designed so it could always be carried and never conveniently forgotten. Still, she questioned whether it truly needed to be kept close at all times, considering that when she had briefly skimmed it earlier, most of its pages had been blank.

She pulled it out, sat down, and began to read.

Nothing about the first few pages appeared abnormal, aside from the lack of printing information and edition details that most books included. Even so, seeing her name printed in bold letters on the first page sent a chill down her spine.

From that first page alone, she reached two conclusions.

First, the book was entirely magical and created specifically for this situation. Second, they had been chosen.

There was no mistaking it. Every handbook bore a student’s full name. That meant each one had been prepared deliberately, for each individual.

But why?

While it made sense to trap Harry Potter, and perhaps even his closest friends, why the rest of their year? And more absurd still, why include the children of well-known and devoted Death Eaters?

Hermione could not reconcile it. For now, she decided to revisit those questions later.

She turned the page and reached the rules, reading them carefully.

Rule One stated that students were only permitted to reside within the school. Hermione assumed this referred strictly to the castle itself. If they had access to the grounds, escape would be far too easy. One could climb a wall or even attempt to swim across the Black Lake. Strategically, it made sense.

That unsettled her more than she liked to admit. Whoever was behind this had planned carefully.

Rule Two defined “night-time” as lasting from ten in the evening until seven in the morning. It was not written as a curfew, meaning students could still move about during those hours, but it did specify that several areas would be off-limits. Hermione did not yet understand why such a distinction was necessary, but she was certain it served a purpose.

She took her quill and wrote on a spare parchment:

Why establish night-time without a curfew? Which areas are blocked, and why?

She knew it was currently night-time. She did not have a watch, but it had clearly passed ten. That meant, thankfully, the library remained open during those hours, much to her relief.

She continued reading.

Rule Three surprised her. Students were forbidden from sleeping anywhere that was not a designated dormitory. That meant common rooms only. Yet the Slytherin common room had already been confirmed inaccessible, and Padma had been unable to reach the stairs to Ravenclaw Tower.

That left Gryffindor Tower and the Hufflepuff common room, assuming they were accessible at all.

She hoped they were. Especially Gryffindor’s. Access to the Marauder’s Map and the Invisibility Cloak could prove invaluable.

Rule Four stated that students were free to explore Hogwarts at will.

She scoffed quietly. As though she had not already explored nearly every inch of the castle in her four years there.

Rule Five had already been demonstrated in the Great Hall. Violence against the Headmaster was forbidden. She was grateful the chunky snake had not seriously harmed Harry or Ron. Still, it had done more than enough to instill fear.

A snake capable of performing magic like a wizard was unheard of, but Hermione knew of other non-human magical beings who could do exactly that.

She took another parchment, wanting to separate her theories from the questions she intended to discuss with the others, and wrote:

Monomort performs magic and Apparates similarly to a house-elf.

She resolved to search for books on house-elves and their magic. It might explain far more than she liked to think.

Rule Six raised even more questions.

“Anyone who kills a fellow student and becomes the ‘blackened’ will graduate, unless they are discovered,” she read aloud, her mouth falling open. “So it isn’t that simple, then.”

She grabbed her quill again and added to her first parchment:

The killer must not be discovered. How do we discover the blackened? What happens if they are found?

She knew she was thinking several steps ahead, but she had to. If there was no way out, then they were faced with only two options: accept their imprisonment or participate in the horrific game Monomort had designed.

She knew she would never kill someone. But she was equally certain she could not accept being trapped inside Hogwarts forever. She hoped no one else would be driven to murder in pursuit of escape.

The final rule simply stated that additional rules could be added as needed.

Hermione closed the handbook. Though she was curious about the curses listed beyond the rules, she did not want to disappear down that rabbit hole just yet.

She took the second parchment and began compiling a list of subjects and books to search.

Magical Creatures, to find any reference to magical snakes.

Hogwarts, A History, to refresh her knowledge of the castle’s wards and protections.

Apparition, Though she had not yet learnt it, and it was an advanced NEWT-level spell, any information might help her understand where Monomort went when it vanished.

House-elves.

She lingered on that last point. She had already intended to research them after witnessing Winky’s treatment over the summer. The memory still made her furious. Reform was long overdue, she thought, but now was not the time.

A few book titles came to mind, and she added them to the list. At the bottom, she wrote Defensive Magic, followed by Restricted Section beneath it.

Some of the curses in the handbook were unfamiliar. That alone was deeply troubling. Anything unknown was likely dangerous, and she would not find it in the general stacks.

She added Healing Magic beside Defensive Magic. If things turned dire, someone would need to know how to mend broken bones, cuts, or worse. Without access to the infirmary, and possibly without Madam Pomfrey, that knowledge could mean the difference between life and death.

With her list complete, she began her search.

She did not know how long she had before morning, or before someone came looking for her. There was no time to waste.

After several hours, she paused to breathe. As expected, it was impossible to Apparate into or out of Hogwarts. None of the books suggested otherwise. The wards would block such attempts, especially considering the danger of splinching for the untrained.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to banish the gruesome images of splinched bodies she had seen in one particularly graphic text.

There was, however, one notable exception.

House-elves were not bound by the Apparition wards.

She felt a small surge of satisfaction. Her research had been worth it. While Monomort was clearly not a house-elf, the comparison still held. If elves could perform wandless and wordless magic within Hogwarts, then so could Monomort.

It did not explain what Monomort was, but it suggested what it was capable of.

Unfortunately, she had only found a single book dedicated to house-elves. Wizardkind, it seemed, vastly underestimated both their power and their importance.

God forbid a house-elf ever truly rebels. We’d be doomed.

She'd nearly reached the end of her list, not feeling particularly reassured. Some questions had been answered, but the greater mystery remained untouched.

All that remained was Defensive Magic, Healing, and finally, the Restricted Section.

Curiosity, at last, won.

After hours of searching for answers, she found herself wanting to understand the unknown spells more than anything else.

She rose and made her way towards the Restricted Section. She had only been there once before, in her second year, after tricking Lockhart into signing a permission slip. Madam Pince had been suspicious even then, retrieving the book herself and leaving Hermione outside the iron-barred door.

Hermione had been disappointed. She had imagined shelves upon shelves of dark tomes hidden below, a subterranean maze of forbidden knowledge and expected to be able to at least gaze upon some book titles while Madam Pince fetched her a copy of “Moste Potente Potions” but that had never happened. She felt the downstairs hidden knowledge calling for her now.

She reached the door and froze.

It was unlocked.

Before she could step inside, a voice called out behind her.

“Hermione!”

She turned at the sound of Ron’s voice.

“Ron” she called for him “Have you found anything?” 

“Come sit” he moved towards the table she had been sitting before and she followed “Blimey Hermione, it’s only been like three hours! You’ve read this much already?”

She felt her cheeks warm up and nodded in affirmation, she knew she wasn’t what would be considered “cool” for Hogwarts population, but she felt grateful her best friends appreciated her commitment to study and research, only when it benefited them though.

“Impressive.” He exclaimed and sat on a chair, willing her to sit as well. It made her nervous that he thought she needed to be sat in order to receive his news.

“What have you found?” she asked eagerly

“Nothing good I'm afraid” he replied in a concerned tone “We searched the castle, or better, the available parts of the castle”

Hermione kept quiet, waiting for the bad news she already had figured out.

“The grand staircase doesn’t move, so we only have access to certain floors, mainly first and second” he continued “We can’t access Gryffindor tower either. We tried but the stairs were turned into a slide. Me and Harry tried to go up but it only became more and more slippery… Kinda like the stairs to the girl’s dorm room”

Hermione gave him an inquisitory look, as if asking “how do you even know…” but she shook her head, it was probably not worth asking why Ron had tried to access the girls dormitory.

“So, no map and no cloak.” she replied concerningly.

“Yeah. We’ll have to find another way to get to the tower” he answered, after a brief pause he continued, “Some secret passages are not opening, even with the correct password, the ones that lead around floor 1 and 2 are available”

Hermione again recognized that a lot of thought must have gone into this situation, this person, Voldemort supposedly, had definitely intense knowledge of Hogwarts and its passages. Which led her to think about a certain secret passage. How well was this person’s knowledge of Hogwarts? And how recent was this knowledge? She wondered.

“What about that one passage that caved in?” She adjusted herself on her chair, coming closer to Ron, her brain felt like it had suddenly come alive again.

“That’s on the fourth floor, so I wouldn’t know.” Ron replied and noticed Hermione had suddenly deflated in her seat “Why do you ask? Think we can move the rubble to get out?”

“Something like that, yes” she replied dejected but in her mind she made a note to return to this theory later if they ever managed to reach the corridor. If the passage was magically blocked it meant Monomort did not know it had been caved in, showing a lack of recent knowledge of the castle, which could support Harry’s idea that Voldemort is behind this.

“Hermione?” Ron called, waving his hand in front of her face, she had gone quiet while her brain was trying to piece things together.

“Sorry” she chuckled lightly “Just thinking of things… what else have you guys found?”

“Er…” Ron looked up as if trying to remember “Oh we did find that  Hufflepuff’s common room is open. We can sleep there, since we’re not allowed sleep anywhere else”

Hermione smiled lightly, happy that Ron had taken initiative to read the handbook, she realized he was taking things remarkably well now, he was not as impulsive as he had been in the Great hall, she had a feeling Harry was likely why, he always made Ron give his best whenever they were together, they fit together like gloves, Harry always supportive and Ron proving himself worthy of being his right hand.

“We also found that the kitchens are open. But something’s wrong with the house elves” Hermione snapped immediately upon Ron's words.

“What?!” She exclaimed while jumping from her seat “There’s house elves in Hogwarts? Right now?”

“They’re moving around and cooking, it seems, but they act like they can’t see us” he explained, he almost seemed afraid to use the wrong words since Hermione had become very vocal about house elves lately “It’s like they’re blind to our presence. Harry touched one of them and they didn’t even react! They just kept going on like nothing happened.”

“Maybe they’re imperioused?” she asked with concern “We have to break them out of the spell, they might be our only way out!”

Hermione got up and tried to search for a book, hoping she’d find a way to break the imperious curse out of someone, only to have Ron grab her arm gently and pull her back, she sighed in frustration and tried to explain her reasoning but Ron shushed her with a smile.

“Tomorrow, Hermione. It’s late, and we’re not in danger at the moment.” He slowly pulled her back to the table “You need rest, we need rest. So let’s grab your notes and go to Hufflepuff please?” He pleaded “Harry told me to levitate you back if needed” he added with a chuckle.

She couldn’t help but relax and smile, she was grateful Ron was able to cheer someone up even in the middle of a messed up situation, so she conceded and grabbed her notes, but not before making a request.

“I just need to grab a book from the restricted section before we leave” Ron looked at her somewhat exasperated. “ yes yes I know we need rest, it’s just easier if I have this on hand, please?” she pleaded while hanging her book bag on her shoulder.

Ron rolled his eyes but agreed and both walked to the restricted section, Ron found it odd as well that it was unlocked, as Madam Pince had been known to keep the keys to the iron bar door on herself at all times. Hermione looked at the bookcases trying to find a book related to the unforgivable curses but nothing came up, she looked to the stairs that lead to the underground part of the section.

Surely it will be down there…

She gathered her courage to start her descent, Ron following close by, only to be stopped a couple steps down by someone coming up at a quick pace.

They nearly collided with one another, she recognized the face before her as the very smart Slytherin always in third place in grades, right behind her and Draco. Theo Nott.

“Weasley. Granger.” Theo spoke politely but without any emotion “I’m afraid you cannot descend at the moment. We Slytherin's are down here and would rather not be disturbed. It's late.” 

Hermione wondered if they had been the ones to unlock the restricted section, and by the way Theo had likely ran up the stairs it probably meant they had also set an alarm spell if anyone got near the stairs, she wondered how she did not notice the Slytherin's coming to the library, but then remembered they had been the first ones to leave, and without a common room to hide in, the restricted section had probably been their best spot.

“I’m sure you read the rules, Theo” she spoke with caution “You’re not allowed to sleep anywhere that isn’t a dorm”

“We’re aware of that, thank you.” He replied back, quick and clear, not willing to give more information.

“Let’s go, Hermione.” Ron turned around and started to make his way back up, Hermione guessed he was probably too tired to start a fight, even though fighting Slytherin's seemed to be his hobby.

She followed him but turned back suddenly.

“The Hufflepuff common room is open” she told Theo “to everyone. You can come if you need to sleep” 

He didn’t reply, simply nodded his head and went back downstairs.

When they finally left the library Ron finally spoke to her.

“Why did you tell him?” He didn't sound accusatory, which was surprising, she started walking towards the dungeons.

“I understand they’re Slytherin's but they’re in the same situation as we are.” she tried to explain “So it’s only fair we let them know about it”

“What if they decide to take over the common room?” Ron asked and Hermione rolled her eyes “What? It's not like they’re taking over the library too right?” He said sarcastically and Hermione sighed.

“I’m just extending an olive branch, Ron” she said when they reached the stairs that led from the dungeons to the basement “it doesn’t mean they’ll take it”

He looked at her in confusion.

“It’s a Muggle expression, it means to make a gesture of peace.” she explained

Ron said nothing else, his steps were slow and heavy, he seemed too out of energy to argue her point, when they finally reached Hufflepuff’s common room entrance she noticed it was fully open, not even trying to hide itself, she noticed it because usually there was only big large barrels in this part of the castle, but now instead the barrels had moved to expose a small circular door that lead inside, it oddly reminded her of the entrance to Gryffindor's common room.

Hermione looked at the painting hanging not far from the door, the entrance to the kitchens lay behind a large painting that contained a bowl of fruit, not all students knew the way in, it was as simple as tickling the pear in the painting to gain access. She thought of going in and seeing for herself how the house elves were acting, but deep inside knew there wasn’t anything she could do for them at the moment, so she followed Ron inside.

Just as she had thought, Hufflepuff’s entrance was almost identical to Gryffindor’s. The small circular doorway led into an equally small, rounded corridor before opening into the common room itself. Hermione found herself wondering why the founders had thought it acceptable for young witches and wizards to bend so much just to reach their rest areas. Perhaps witches and wizards of old had been shorter, or perhaps back pain simply had not been a concern.

Her thoughts vanished the moment she stepped inside.

The room was warm and spacious, though not quite as large as Gryffindor’s. She could not help but take it all in. After all, it was unlikely that a student ever saw another house’s common room. It was not strictly forbidden, but there was an unspoken agreement that everyone kept to their own spaces. She briefly wondered what Ravenclaw Tower looked like and made a mental note to ask Padma for a glimpse if they ever managed to access it, though deep down she hoped it would never come to that. More than anything, she wanted to leave Hogwarts.

Hufflepuff’s common room was undeniably cosy. Like Gryffindor’s, it had a large fireplace, though without the intimidating lion statues that flanked her own. Unlike Gryffindor, however, the furniture here did not match. The sofas were broad and clearly well-worn, yet they looked far softer and more comfortable. Plants filled the room, spilling from corners and shelves, while branches heavy with leaves stretched across the ceiling, as though the space itself lay hidden within the roots of a great tree. Badger motifs appeared everywhere she looked.

“Hermione!”

Harry’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned back to the reality of the situation, reminding herself she was not here simply to admire the room.

“I’m glad you’re back. We’ve got loads to tell you.”

Cedric and Cho were sitting together on a loveseat, comfortably close. Hermione wondered, not without guilt, how Harry felt about it. He had shown some interest in Cho lately, and seeing her so close to Cedric could not have been easy.

Neville sat on the floor, staring intently at a cactus that appeared to sway gently, as though dancing. Ginny sat nearby with her arms wrapped around her knees, looking either deep in thought or half asleep. Hermione quickly noticed several people were missing.

“Where is everyone else?” she asked, taking a seat on one of the sofas.

“Some people have already turned in for the night,” Cedric replied. “If you wish to rest, the girls’ rooms are up those stairs.” He gestured towards a staircase leading to a balcony above the common room, where Hermione could just make out a few round doors that undoubtedly led to warm, comfortable dormitories.

“Not yet,” Hermione said with a sigh. “I think it’s best if we discuss what’s happening. Ron already told me you didn’t find much.”

She explained what she had learned about Monomort, particularly the similarities between its abilities and those of house-elves, given its apparent ability to Apparate within Hogwarts. She shared her concerns about the curses listed in the handbook and recounted the brief confrontation she and Ron had had with Theo Nott. Harry’s face twisted in frustration, clearly unhappy with the idea of Slytherin students spending the night nearby.

“I agree with your decision, Hermione,” Cedric said approvingly. “It’s only fair, given that no other common room is available. I’m sure we’re all mature enough not to start pointless arguments.”

Yes, good luck with that, Cedric.

They exchanged theories, though none felt particularly convincing. Harry insisted it had to be Voldemort’s doing. Cedric briefly suggested it might be the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, but quickly abandoned the idea. While the Tournament was dangerous, involving students who were not competing made no sense. Hermione reminded him that neither Durmstrang nor Beauxbatons students were present either.

Where were they, then?

“The fact is, there are no other students or professors,” Hermione said quietly. “It’s just us. Twenty of us.”

“Why us?” Ginny asked in a low voice.

“I don’t know,” Hermione replied. “But I know the goal isn’t to keep us safe.” She hesitated, then forced herself to continue. “I think they want us to take part in this… sick game they’ve created.”

Before she could say more, a group entered through the common room entrance. The Slytherins, it seemed, had accepted the offer. Not all of them, which did not surprise her.

Theo stepped inside first, with Daphne and Pansy close behind him. Blaise and Draco were nowhere to be seen. They must have decided to stay awake. Cedric immediately rose to greet them.

“Welcome. I know this is an unusual situation, but you’re welcome to stay the night,” he said, his diplomatic tone flawless. Hermione thought he would make a good Ministry worker one day. “Girls’ rooms are upstairs, boys’ are just ahead.”

“We’d prefer to stay together,” Daphne replied coolly. Hermione could see why people called her the Ice Queen. “Surely that won’t be an issue, given the circumstances?”

Cedric offered an awkward smile and explained that it would be best for them to use a boys’ dormitory, as the stairs were enchanted to prevent boys from entering the girls’ rooms. They agreed and headed towards the circular doors at ground level.

Before they reached them, Harry stood.

“Where are Malfoy and Zabini?” he asked, his voice tight with restrained anger.

“I’m sure they’ll join us soon, Potter,” Theo replied, his tone as emotionless as ever.

Without further explanation, Theo led the girls inside. Hermione found herself oddly appreciative of his consideration for Daphne and Pansy. Malfoy and Blaise clearly did not care as much, which unsettled her. If they were still awake, they were likely somewhere in the restricted section, scheming. Hermione could not decide whether they were truly innocent. If Harry was right, there would be no reason for Slytherins to be here at all. Pure-blood families were far too valuable to be risked in a murderous game.

Cedric and Cho excused themselves soon after. They exchanged awkward goodbyes, careful not to show too much affection, before heading to their respective dormitories. Neville followed shortly after, and Ginny eventually fell asleep where she sat. Only once her breathing deepened did the others dare to speak freely.

“Why would they want us to kill each other?” Ron asked.

“Maybe they’re hoping you’ll turn against me,” Harry said quietly. Hermione noticed the brief flash of hurt on Ron’s face.

“That’s not going to happen, Harry,” Hermione said firmly. “I don’t think anyone would do that. Not to you, or to anyone else.”

“What about the Slytherins?” Harry argued. “We all know most of them are practically miniature Death Eaters already. Maybe this is just a way to bring them properly into the fold.”

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed. “Do you really think You-Know-Who would trust children to defeat you?”

“Yeah, mate,” Ron added. “If anything, he’d come here himself. Unless he can’t…” He trailed off.

“The last time you saw him, he was inside a book,” Hermione said sharply. “Before that, he was nothing more than a parasite living in someone’s head. He doesn’t even have a body.”

“That we know of!” Harry shot back. “What happened at the Quidditch World Cup proves he’s back.”

His raised voice made Ginny stir. Ron quickly shushed him, and Harry slumped back onto the sofa, frustration draining into a tired sigh.

“If he really were back, he’d be working in the shadows,” Hermione said. “Not kidnapping a group of schoolchildren.”

“I know,” Harry replied quietly. “It seems unlikely. But what other explanation is there?”

Hermione had no answer.

It has to be Voldemort. We’re just missing the context.

After a long, heavy silence, she finally spoke.

“We need to focus on getting out, not on proving whether You-Know-Who is behind this.”

The boys nodded in agreement. Hermione stretched out on the sofa, slipping off her shoes. The boys followed suit. They talked quietly until exhaustion claimed them, none of them bothering to find proper beds.

Hermione regretted that decision the moment she woke.

Her back ached, her uniform felt tight and rumpled, and she flushed scarlet when Ginny shook her awake and informed her that she had moved so much in her sleep that her skirt had ridden up, leaving far too much on display. Even with dark tights, it was mortifying. She resolved to find more comfortable clothes as soon as possible. This was no longer a normal Hogwarts situation. Uniforms hardly mattered.

Once everyone was awake, Hermione headed straight for the kitchens. Hunger tugged at her, but more importantly, she needed to see what had become of the house-elves. Harry and Ron mentioned that the Slytherins had already left and that neither Blaise nor Draco had returned during the night. Hermione decided her priority was escape, not suspicion, and left them behind.

The cold hit her immediately. Hufflepuff’s common room had been so warm she had almost forgotten it was November, or at least should have been, judging by the chill that clung to the castle corridors.

With a sense of unease, she tickled the pear on the portrait. It laughed and swung open. Hermione rushed inside, wand raised, ready to free the elves from whatever spell bound them.

Instead, she froze.

Everything looked normal.

The elves moved briskly about their work, chatting casually, fetching ingredients, stirring pots. Several perched atop a large cauldron, happily mixing its contents. Nothing about them suggested enchantment.

Yet none of them acknowledged her.

She moved deeper into the kitchens, watching carefully. Still nothing. Normally, the elves might grumble about students underfoot, but they were always warm, always eager to help, always offering food.

Now they ignored her completely.

She tried to grab one, but it slipped past her as though she were not there. She stepped directly into another’s path. The elf neatly dodged her and carried on.

So they can see us. Somehow.

Footsteps echoed behind her. Harry and Ron entered, with Michael Corner close behind.

“Good morning, Hermione!” Michael said brightly. “Ready for some research?”

She stared at Harry and Ron, who merely shrugged and began searching for food.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I heard you were in the library last night,” Michael said, gesturing around the kitchen. “And I know you’re curious about the elves. Strange, isn’t it?”

Hermione nodded. “It’s not that they can’t see us. One of them deliberately dodged me. So it’s not the Imperius Curse after all…”

“Sometimes I wonder why the Sorting Hat didn’t put you in Ravenclaw,” Michael said with a smirk. “Let’s eat. Everyone in Ravenclaw’s already at the library. I’m sure you’re eager to join the brightest minds of Hogwarts.”

She noticed the dark looks Harry and Ron shot him and could not help but chuckle.

“Harry, Ron,” she called, “we’re going to figure this out. I think it’s best if the rest of you try to force your way out of Hogwarts.”

Both boys stared at her.

“You want us to… break things?” Ron asked uncertainly.

“Yes,” Hermione said emphatically. “Walls, windows, secret passages. Anything that might lead outside. Try everything. Bombarda if you have to! There must be a way to reach the grounds.”

Harry and Ron left eagerly, already discussing spells and stuffing their bags with food to share.

“Let’s go, Michael,” Hermione said, snatching a croissant from a tray. “We’ve got elves to free.”