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Hermione Granger and The Boy-Who-Lived

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Ugh, I remember this one. We learn like 10 chapters in that someone is going to be isekaid into Voldemort during their fourth year, for some reason.

Total scumbag move to make people read like 30k words just to learn there's a second SI, especially in a HP fic of all things.
Wtf, actually?
 
"I am," Harry said, not even bothering to fake his smile anymore. "And you know the best part about being funny, and likeable, and charismatic? You make friends. You find love. You don't become a bitter, pathetic man-child taking out his vengeance on an eleven-year-old."

The room went still, and Prof. Snape staggered back with a hand clutched over his heart as if struck.
Harry uses Harsh Truths.
Its super effective.
:cool:
 
Then Prof. Snape screamed, "GET OUT!!!" And a powerful gust of wind swept Hermione and Harry off their feet and sent them tumbling to the ground in the hallway outside, and the heavy oak doors to the classroom slammed shut behind them.

God I really hope there is some sort of official retribution from Snape literally attacking them in front of all the other students. Like I get that most stories try to frame it that Dumbledore would do anything to keep Snape from facing consequences, but this time I would like to see some sweet sweet justice.
 
Judging by how Hermione got mailed the movements for a contraceptive spell? Methinks this story going to some spicy places in the future.

The spacebattles version is like 20 chapters ahead of what has been posted so far and has not shown any inclination towards that sort of thing yet so I want to know if the current chapters will have any differences or if it will be a "from now on" sort of thing. Basically should I reread it or just wait for it to catch up?
 
The spacebattles version is like 20 chapters ahead of what has been posted so far and has not shown any inclination towards that sort of thing yet so I want to know if the current chapters will have any differences or if it will be a "from now on" sort of thing. Basically should I reread it or just wait for it to catch up?

No, no. No differences. You can just wait for it to catch up.

Dang, I really like this and hope what 32dahhuio898 said doesn't come true.

You know the biggest problem with writing fanfiction, I've come to find? Too many of the readers expect the story to turn out badly.

So, for example, if they see something in a new story they're reading, like a plot device or a trope, that has been used often enough in stories that they didn't like, then it doesn't matter how much they've enjoyed this new story up to now, as far as they're concerned, the story is now officially shit.

Another problem with writing fanfiction, is that, many readers don't seem to understand the concept of a red herring.

As far as they're concerned, if something has been implied to likely happen, then the story will do whatever it needs to, to make that happen.

The idea that the implied thing will likely just make the characters behave differently, keeping it from ever happening in the first place, never seems to come up.

Apparently, 32dahhuio898 falls into that group.

Here's my advice; keep reading for as long as you find the story enjoyable. If at any point it actually becomes unejoyable, then know that you have my blessing to dump it like a toxic partner.
 
π08:: The Truth
Hermione cried for some time. Time within which Harry moved them from the hallway to one of the many empty rooms in Hogwarts Castle.

This one was small. And had a lone desk for some reason. And Harry helped her sit on the desk as he simultaneously apologized, consoled her, and fumed at Prof. Snape.

Eventually, inevitably, her crying tapered out, and she wiped her snot and tears with her handkerchief.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry was saying, "I should have known he would take it out on you too. Snape's just too pathetic to not do something like that. I should have known. I'm sorry."

"Why?" Hermione asked, her voice croaky.

"Because he's pathetic!" Harry said with more hate than she'd ever imagined the boy could feel. "He's a pathetic, despicable—" the words seemed to elude him in his anger "—asshole, who actually thinks he has some sort of right to be angry. He's delusional!"

Hermione waited a few seconds, giving Harry time to calm down a little, then she said, "I meant, why did you say those things to him, Harry? What did they mean? What unfinished business do you have with him? Why does he hate you—why does he hate us? Why do you hate him? I don't understand any of this, Harry. Why!?"

By the end Hermione was on her feet and starting to cry again, and her confused rage seemed to shock Harry out of whatever fury he'd been feeling himself.

She stood there, panting with fresh tears on her checks, waiting—hoping!—for an answer from Harry, because after everything that had just happened, she really needed one.

Harry meanwhile seemed to deflate, losing all his anger and energy. And in a small, heartbreaking voice the boy said, "Snape's the reason my parents are dead."

Hermione's brain shut off for several seconds. "What?"

"Do you know what a Death Eater is?" Harry asked, and Hermione's heart seized as she realized what Harry was saying.

"No. No, Harry, th—that's not possible, they wouldn't let—"

"Oh, they would," Harry said, looking like each word sapped even more of his energy. "Dumbledore would."

Harry sighed, then, uncaring of the dust, sat on the ground.

A white shape flew into the room from the one, small window; Hedwig, and she swooped and perched beside Harry on the ground, pressing into his side.

Harry smiled at the owl, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"There was a prophecy," he said, looking back at Hermione, and the expression in his green eyes made her want to hug him. "About a boy with the power to "vanquish" The Dark Lord. Snape heard it, and like a good, little Death Eater, he ran off to tell his boss."

"Voldemort," Hermione whispered, utterly enthralled and horrified by Harry's tale.

"Yes," Harry said, his eyes boring into hers, "otherwise known as Prof. Quirrel."

Hermione's blood turned to ice. "No," she said in denial.

"Quite the track record Dumbledore has, isn't it?" Harry asked, but there was no mirth, no sarcasm, no bitterness. Everything just came out flat and dull. "So, anyway, Voldemort, or Quirrelmort, if you prefer, got his little spy, Scabbers, to tell him where my family was hiding."

Hermione blinked, confused by that detail, until two memories came to mind. One of a cat turning into a woman, and the other of a rat appearing to understand Harry's words.

"Scabbers isn't a rat, is he?"

"Nope. His real name is Peter Pettigrew, lifelong friend of my father's, and he practically gave Voldemort the key to our home."

Harry's eyes were glittering with unshed tears, and Hermione felt them in her eyes too. Hedwig pressed closer into the boy's side, but he didn't even seem to notice.

"He killed my father in the living room. I heard it. Then he took his time; walking up the stairs like he owned the place. My mother didn't even try to fight. She just stood in front of my crib, begging him to take her instead."

Harry's eyes had gone unfocused, his gaze trained on a scene from a decade ago, and he raised a finger at something only he could see. A finger that coincidentally pointed right at Hermione.

"Avada Kedavra, he said. Two words. A flash of green. And then he walked up to me. He put his wand right here," and his finger moved to press against his scar as his eyes once again found Hermione's and their unshed tears finally fell. "It hurt, Hermione." Harry's voice broke and Hermione choked on a sob. "It hurt worse than dying. And I remember every second.

"And now I'm here in this place. And I'm terrified, Hermione. Because this isn't even as bad as it gets, and I have no idea what I'm going to—"

Hermione was sure Harry said a bunch of other things, but whatever they were, she didn't hear them, because she'd crushed the boy in a hug, and was crying with him.

Harry cried himself to sleep, and it was only then that Hermione noticed the weariness he'd somehow hidden all week.

What must it have been like for him all this time? She thought.

And what on earth was Dumbledore thinking, hiring a Death Eater and Voldemort!?

Or was it possible that he didn't know? No, he had to! From what Harry said, it sounded like he knew. So why—Hermione forced her mind to still.

It wouldn't do for her to jump to conclusions. Maybe there was more she, or even Harry, didn't know.

Yes. Yes, that had to be it. There had to be a logical, rational explanation for everything.

She looked down at the boy whose head had somehow wound up on her lap. For his sake she really hoped that there was.

★★★​

Because Hermione didn't want to disturb Harry, she let him sleep. Even prepared a patch of ground to be as comfortable as she was able.

The Gust Spell took care of the dust well enough, and repeated attempts at the Softening Charm turned the hard stone to a more soft carpet-y feeling. She'd added the Heating Charm at first, because she didn't want Harry to catch a cold, but that had made the ground too hot, so she'd moved to a different spot and repeated the process, but without the Heating Charm.

By the end, she was rather tired herself, so she sat by Harry to rest, only to open her eyes several hours later to see Harry staring at her.

"Harry, you're awake?" She said, staring at him. He looked well-rested, although his face was rather dirty with dried tears and some snot.

"Yeah, I just woke up," Harry said, then he pressed his palm against the ground. "Did you cast The Softening Charm on the ground?"

She nodded. "I didn't want to wake you."

"Oh. Well, thanks, that was the best sleep I've had in some time."

Hedwig flew onto Harry's shoulder then, rubbing her head against his. "Thanks, Hedwig," Harry said, then he looked at Hermione. "What time is it?"

Hermione looked at her watch and gaped. "7:15? Dinner's started already. How did so much time fly by?"

Harry rose and offered her a hand. "We should get going then. Wouldn't want to miss dinner."

Hermione took his hand and stood, as she remembered something. "We left our bags back in Potions."

"Oh," Harry said, before shrugging. "Well, I'm sure the others thought to get them for us."

"Oh. Yes, you're right," she agreed.

What went unsaid was that neither of them was in anyway eager to go back there.

As she made to open the door, Harry stopped her.

"I know there's still a lot I need to tell you," he said, "and I will. But tomorrow. There's something I need to show you first. After that, I'll explain everything. I promise."

Hermione believed him, so she nodded and they made their way to The Great Hall for dinner after making a stop at a restroom to freshen up a bit.

As soon as they walked into The Great Hall, heads began to turn in their direction, and those who saw them, alerted others to their presence, until, very soon, it seemed like the entire hall was staring.

Hermione almost sighed. This again.

Even the teachers were staring, and when Hermione looked, she found that Prof. Snape was conspicuously absent.

She was... relieved.

A relief that fled when she caught Prof. Quirrel's eyes.

Harry must have noticed her freeze, because he thankfully took her hand, and she was able to make herself breathe again.

As Hermione and Harry headed for the Gryffindor table, she began to hear flashes of conversation.

—heard they were kicked out—

—their potion exploded—

—spread poisonous gas—

—Potter dueled Snape—

Where did people get these rumours?

"Hermione, Harry, over here," Faye called from where the first-years were sitting, and Hermione and Harry began to head over.

Before they could get there however, Prof. McGonagall approached them.

The witch looked quite stern.

"And where have you two been?" She asked, not quite icily, but in a much harder tone than Hermione was expecting.

The girl was confused, but before she could say anything, Harry said, "Hermione and I were doing some reading in one of the empty classrooms. Why, is something wrong?"

Prof. McGonagall looked down at Harry. "Prof. Snape had some... complaints," she said. "About you."

Harry shrugged. "Somehow I'm not surprised. I assume The Headmaster wants to see me or something."

Prof. McGonagall's lips dipped down in displeasure. "Yes," she said finally. "But after dinner. Wait in your common room. I'll take you to him."

Then she turned and walked away.

As Hermione watched the professor go, she wondered why the older woman had looked angry. Angry at Harry.

"Doesn't she know?" She asked Harry softly, as they continued to join their friends. "About Snape and your parents."

"She knows enough," was all Harry said.

Hermione was still very confused, and to be frank, she was starting to get quite sick of it.

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.
 
Interlude:: The Hat
The best part about being older than the oldest school of magic in the world, Nilrem had long since decided, was getting to watch history repeat itself in newer and more interesting ways.

It was also the worst part, since the ancient Chinese apparently had good reason for that curse of theirs, but the old hat didn't really like to think about that.

No. He liked to focus on the good instead. It made things easier when one was his age. And when one was ultimately as powerless as he was. Because the bad doesn't become easier to bear with age; it becomes... heavier, as it makes you face the truth of how nothing ever really changes.

And that is one truth with a considerable amount of weight.

When Severus Snape had come storming out of the Floo earlier in the day, at a time when he should have been in class, virtually every sentient entity in the office had known exactly why before he'd even uttered a word of his drunken rant.

And it had been quite the rant; a red flush on his pale cheeks, his dark eyes glaring at everything, he had even been frothing at the mouth by the end.

Albus, of course, had let the young man purge it out of his system, a simple and effective action with the twofold reward of helping Severus calm down, and letting them glean the desired information on Harry Potter that they'd all waited this day for.

At the end, panting fiercely and with a half full bottle of fire whiskey still in hand, Severus had slumped into a chair, his blazing fury burnt out to leave a simmering hatred.

It hurt Nilrem, seeing him like that. He still remembered the boy Severus had been; full of potential and eager for companionship and recognition.

And the hat knew that, just as he should have done with Tom Riddle, he should have put Severus in a different house. Perhaps Hufflepuff. A place where both could have made bonds untainted by subterfuge and greed.

But he had put them in Slytherin instead. And would do the same even if he could go back and do it all over again, because when one was as old as he was, they had to make peace with the truth that bad things will always happen. And no matter how much of a bystander you are, some of it will inevitably be your fault, at least in part.

The most you could do was try to also be part of the good.

Severus had left some time after with nary a word, and Albus hadn't stopped him. Nilrem hadn't either.

Minerva had been called to the office right after, and Albus had given her the barebones of the situation, then told her to bring Harry to the office.

But neither the boy, nor Granger, had been found; no one had seen them since the event, not even their classmates.

Not until dinner, when he'd walked in with Granger and his much too intelligent owl, looking perfectly unbothered. Much like how he walked into the office right then, the only difference being the absence of the girl who almost always shadowed him.

The boy who might be more than just Harry Potter looked around the office, eyes slipping past the Headmaster at his desk like he wasn't even there. Much unlike his owl, who'd found a perch on top a bookshelf and had her gaze trained on the old wizard since they walked in.

"Good evening, Harry," Albus said. "Have a seat."

"I'd rather stand if that's okay," Harry said, then his eyes caught the Headmaster's familiar, and a look of childish awe spread over his face.

For the first time since they walked in, Harry's owl looked away from Albus, and it was to shoot what was clearly a stink eye to everyone present at the phoenix who had effortlessly grabbed her master's attention.

Fawkes, perfectly unbothered, stood tall and proud, and may have flared his fiery plumage a bit.

Eventually, Harry looked away from the phoenix, and as he walked over to a steaming, wheezing contraption in a corner, he said, "so, I imagine Snape came crying to you already."

"Prof. Snape, Harry," Albus said gently.

"Yeah, we both know I'm not calling him that," the boy stated without turning.

He sniffed the steam emanating from the device, coughed heavily, then moved to the next one, a compass with a rapidly spinning dial. Which he stopped with a finger.

"Do you think it's his daddy issues?" Harry asked thoughtfully. "His father treats him like shit, so he latches on to the first man to show him any measure of affection. Although, a better question would be why you keep defending him? He's clearly undeserving of it. I mean, seriously, what is this? Naruto? Where anybody can get away with anything as long as they have a soppy backstory."

The room was quiet for some time, within which Harry's owl returned to his shoulder, and the boy made a visible effort to calm himself as the bird rubbed her head against his.

"Thanks, Hedwig," Harry said, then moved to yet another object, this one a small, glass globe full of murky smoke that constantly morphed into nonsensical shapes. The globe was sitting on the carving of a hand.

"Who told you about Prof. Snape, Harry?" Albus finally said, and though the man's voice was calm, Nilrem had known him long enough to know he was not.

Harry scoffed as he picked up the globe, shook it, then held it to his ear, listening for what, Nilrem did not know. "You mean among the literal dozens of people who know all the grisly little details of his life?" Harry asked.

Albus sighed. "Harry, Severus has made some mistakes—"

"Don't," the boy said, his tone surprisingly cold. "Just don't. Don't preach to me about love and forgiveness. Don't interfere with my life. Do not try to help me because you are clearly terrible at it. And for the love of God, keep that... man away from me, and away from Hermione, because if he hurts her, I will kill him."

Harry's breathing was clearly audible in the silence of the room, and Nilrem realised that this was a mirror of events from just this afternoon.

With less drunk raging true, but a mirror nevertheless.

Harry sighed, and his anger seemed to evaporate, leaving only tiredness. He set the globe down gently on its stand.

"Stay out of my life, Dumbledore," he said, almost pleading. "You've done enough."

And with a final "goodnight, Headmaster," Harry Potter walked out, the door closing gently behind him.

The room was quiet for some time. Harry had not acted how anyone had feared or expected. This might have been a good thing, were it not for his obvious, unwarranted dislike of Albus, and the very suspicious depths of his knowledge.

It was Phineas Black who finally broke the quiet. "Noticed how the boy never once looked you in the eyes?" The eternal Slytherin asked, sounding pleased.

Albus sighed, even as a number of previous Heads gave Phineas dirty looks at his tone. "Yes, Phineas, I saw."

Nilrem spoke. "Nevertheless, I can safely say that was not Tom Riddle."

"No, it wasn't," Albus agreed, then after a few seconds turned to Nilrem and asked him, "could the piece of Tom in him have done this? Could Riddle have affected Harry in this way?"

Nilrem could see the desperate hope in Albus' eyes, hear it in his voice. But he couldn't help. "I don't know, Albus. One could hardly call me an expert on horcruxes."

The hope in Albus' eyes dimmed. "No, I suppose not," he said, before he gathered himself, bid them goodnight, and retreated to his quarters.

Nilrem sighed. The worst part about being older than the oldest school of magic in the world, was getting to watch history repeat itself in newer and more interesting ways.

Somehow though, it was always worse when it was your mistake you watched repeated.

Because making a horcrux has never been anything but a mistake. Nilrem knew that more than anyone else.
 
Always kinda bothers me when HP Fanfics make Merlin older than Hogwarts... When it is Canon that Merlin went to Hogwarts.
Technically, with a few of the legends about Merlin, him being able to bounce around time is extremely possible...there's things like the myth about him aging backwards in time and one that he wasn't a seer, but could directly visit people in his sleep with some people claiming to have had him visit them in regard to his prophecies.

Him attending Hogwarts at some point doesn't mean that he isn't also far older.

Even without it, we have no idea how Hogwarts handled things early on, it's possible that you could visit and learn as adults as well, getting more training from it to fill in gaps in your education from whatever you'd learned yourself or been taught before it.
 
Technically, with a few of the legends about Merlin, him being able to bounce around time is extremely possible...there's things like the myth about him aging backwards in time and one that he wasn't a seer, but could directly visit people in his sleep with some people claiming to have had him visit them in regard to his prophecies.

Him attending Hogwarts at some point doesn't mean that he isn't also far older.

Even without it, we have no idea how Hogwarts handled things early on, it's possible that you could visit and learn as adults as well, getting more training from it to fill in gaps in your education from whatever you'd learned yourself or been taught before it.
Pretty sure that within HP Canon ALL of Merlin's exploits were during the Middle Ages(Medieval times), with some time shenanigans involving Avalon. But for Fanon and non-HP-related Merlin Lore, it is possible to do whatever, like having him jumping around the timeline and all sorts of shenanigans. Made all the easier with the lack of any hard dates...
 
Interesting and fairly good story I am enjoying, but a question if I may? Will this, after it seems 20 chapters for catch up, deserve to be here?

In nsfw? Or is this one of the stories where it is posted here for more views and comments as on this site nsfw is more active?

Far too many stories here just don't have that an are T rated at best and while I am enjoying this story for what it is....

Nsfw is for jerking the meat, slipping around the clam. If I don't have to clean up after reading a story here or even shift to adjust then it is pure disappointment.
 
Pretty sure that within HP Canon ALL of Merlin's exploits were during the Middle Ages(Medieval times), with some time shenanigans involving Avalon. But for Fanon and non-HP-related Merlin Lore, it is possible to do whatever, like having him jumping around the timeline and all sorts of shenanigans. Made all the easier with the lack of any hard dates...

I have seen it get explained a couple of times as Emrys the pre-Hogwarts version reincarnated into Merlin the slytherin student. This allows it to be mostly canon compliant without fucking up legends and such.

In nsfw? Or is this one of the stories where it is posted here for more views and comments as on this site nsfw is more active?

He already answered it here.

Guess we'll see. Not promising anything though, because even if I were to write a smutty version, it would split off from a much farther point in the storyline than where even the RR & SB versions are now.

So again, guess we'll see.
 
I have seen it get explained a couple of times as Emrys the pre-Hogwarts version reincarnated into Merlin the slytherin student. This allows it to be mostly canon compliant without fucking up legends and such.
My personal favorite is the one that borrows from other Merlin lore/fiction, where Merlin is as powerful/intelligent as he is because he has connected to his alternate selves in other realities. So Merlin is as old as all those lifetimes tacked together, with all that knowledge, magic, and power. Usually done when he finds that Crystal Cave and meditates there.
With the hat being "Nilrem" I wonder how that came about... Horcrux? a copy of his mind/soul/self? maybe he is still asleep in Avalon but instead of sleeping and not getting to participate in the world, he tied his mind to the "Hat" so that he can continue to be part of and keep up with the world.
 
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