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Hermione Granger and The Boy-Who-Lived

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Huh, first time I've even peeked in the regular creative writing forums. Tells something about me, I guess.

Anyway, cool story, keep it coming, can't wait for more precocious Harry shenanigans.
 
Interlude:: The Matron & The Auror
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    • The Matron

    Night.

    Saturday, Sept. 14


    Poppy Pomfrey generally liked her job, stressful as it could sometimes be. Children could be quite... dumb, you see, and in the twenty-four years that the witch had worked at Hogwarts, she had become all too familiar with that headache-inducing (and oftentimes, rather amusing) truth.

    Every week, there was at least one potential recipient of the Darwin Award walking into her infirmary looking shifty-eyed, and sporting some sort of self-inflicted magical malady or other effect.

    More aggravating, were the ones who abstained from coming to her by themselves for whatever reason, hoping that whatever was wrong would simply fix itself, while the absolute worst were those who tried to fix the problem by themselves. Emphasis on tried.

    One such student, a third-year Gryffindor boy, had come in a few years ago, his tongue a wriggling, two-foot long tentacle sticking out of his mouth, and his nose missing.

    Apparently, he'd tried to transfigure his tongue for some sort of prank, but had botched the spell terribly. Then, despite that his transfiguration skills were wholly lacking even when his tongue was fully functional, he'd tried to fix it himself, only to end up cursing his nose off too.

    Fortunately, whether from accidental magic or just accidental luck, something he did caused him to start breathing with his ears instead, saving the poor fool from suffocating.

    And that was simply one of many such occurrences that Poppy had had to suffer through over the years.

    As bad as the ones who were victims of their own stupidity were however, nothing beat the ones who were simply victims, and, paradoxically enough, they were also the ones who made Poppy like her job the most.

    In the twenty-four years that Poppy Pomfrey had worked at Hogwarts, there had only ever been five incidents that counted as a medical emergency, and two of them had happened within the last twenty-four hours, with, amazingly enough, the same two students at its epicenter; first-years, Hermione Granger, and the boy-who-lived, Harry Potter.

    When Minerva had brought the two in earlier in the day, after their ill-fated battle with the basilisk (and was the revelation that there had been one of those things sitting under the castle for centuries not simply terrifying?), Poppy had run some preliminary diagnosis of the two and shuddered.

    There had been the clear signs of phoenix tears having been used as a first response treatment, and while it was a wondrous substance, as well as the only reason the children were still alive, there wasn't enough phoenix tears in the world to mask the leftover traces of the litany of injuries both had suffered from Poppy's skilled eyes.

    Shattered bones, pulverized organs, extreme blood loss, shards of the skull embedded an inch deep into a swollen brain, and that was just for the boy; Poppy had found such high concentrations of inert basilisk venom in the girl that it was like someone had hosed her down with the stuff.

    Simply put, it was bad, but thanks to the phoenix tears they'd received, it was (relatively) easy to fix, especially in Miss Granger's case.

    So, she'd fixed them. Patched them back up, good as new, thankful that the excitement for the day had passed.

    Then night had come, and with it the worst attack on Wizarding Britain in recent memory, and as Poppy Pomfrey stared at the same two first-years being carried back into her infirmary, again with grievous wounds, she remembered why she liked her job; it was because of the good she could do.

    Poppy Pomfrey just wished that the world would stop giving her opportunities to do good.



    The Auror

    Morning.

    Sunday, Sept. 15


    Barely anyone remembered it now, but once, not too long ago, the brilliant, paranoid, and scarred man now known to the world today as Mad-eye Moody, was a brilliant, cocky, and—dare I say—good-looking boy called Alastor Moody.

    Alastor Moody (Al to his friends) had graduated from Hogwarts like most of his peers, at eighteen. Unlike most of his peers however, Alastor had registered for the Auror Academy entrance exam right away.

    He'd passed with flying colours on the first try, and been accepted into the Auror Academy, an undertaking which took three years, and this was the first step on the journey of a thousand miles that led to the man named Mad-eye Moody.

    Three years passed, and Alastor came out of the academy not the cocky boy that had gone in, but a confident man. A leader.

    Soon he'd won the respect of his colleagues, the admiration of his subordinates, and the love of a beautiful witch he'd had every intention of spending the rest of his life with.

    Then his friends began to die.

    They'd been told the risks of the job back at the academy, made aware of them; but it was one thing to know that you might have to watch your friends die, and it was something entirely different to live it.

    Fifteen years into his career as an Auror, Alastor was the last of his graduating class. His love was long gone by then, and somewhere along the way, he'd lost an eye, a leg, and much of the man that he'd been.

    He could have stopped then. He should have stopped then. But it was the only thing he had left. And he was very, very good at it.

    So Moody kept fighting. Through Voldemort's war as it came and went, and for a decade after it, he fought.

    He fought and fought, until one day, he saw the witch who he'd wanted to spend his life with all those years ago, shopping for school supplies with her thirteen-year-old in Diagon Alley, and suddenly, Moody had realized just how tired he was.

    That was one month ago, in August. And it was the day that he'd made the decision to retire.

    Being the wizard that he was though, Moody could not just bring himself to get up and leave the Auror Corps, so the decision was made that he would stay the remainder of the year, and come January, for the first time in some three decades, he would be an unemployed man.

    So, naturally, here he was in Albus' office not even one full month later, on the morning after Death Eaters set Hogsmeade on fiendfyre, successfully burning down half the village.

    It was a disaster.

    Thirteen dead and fifty-four injured, eight of whom were in critical condition at St. Mungo's.

    Moody had seen many terrible things over the years, and while some of them trumped this in ghastliness, few could compete with the sheer scale of this disaster.

    In fact, the only one in recent memory that he could recall would be Sirius Black's decimation of that muggle street the night he killed Pettigrew.

    Moody's lips involuntarily curled with distaste from the memory, then it curled even further from the incessant rambling of the Minister.

    God, the man was an incompetent idiot. One who, like any proper idiot, seemed completely incapable of seeing that he was in fact an idiot. Actually even going so far as to consider himself some sort of savvy diplomat.

    Ironically enough, Moody knew that this was the only reason why the Wizengamot had assigned Cornelius Fudge the position of Minister in the first place, and why his assignment as Minister has been the only unanimous one in... probably a century; the man was an idiot. More importantly, the man was a pliable idiot. And everyone but him knew it.

    Fortunately, Moody could see the kids of the hour ascending up to Dumbledore's office then, so he knew he wouldn't have to put up with Fudge for much longer.

    Before today, Moody had never given the Potter boy much thought. Sure, the events of that Halloween night were remarkable enough, but the scarred Auror had been fully aware that the boy had been a toddler at the time.

    Consequently, if the tyke had had anything to do with that night's events, then it had been completely accidental, and no one deserved praise for something they accomplished accidentally, in Moody's opinion. Not even when it's offing a Dark Lord.

    So Moody observed the boy, and his friend, the Granger girl, when they came up into the office, and while they weren't the only reason, they were a not insubstantial part of why, when, after the kids had left, Dumbledore suggested he take the newly open position of Defense professor, Moody didn't immediately blow off the old wizard.


    A/N: so, as you may have noticed if you've been here since the start, this story has now been moved to the sfw section, and since then, the viewership has, simply put, tanked.

    This is because, despite what anyone wants to say, the fact remains that for most of QQ's audience, the sfw section is an afterthought at best, and a non-entity at worst.

    Seeing this, I have hereby decided to stop posting this story here, just like I did at ff.net when the stress of posting outweighed the return in viewership.

    Therefore, if you would like to continue reading this story from when next I post, click on this link. And if you would like to read more right now, then here's my Patreon to read four chapters ahead.

    Thank you, and take care.
     
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    • Oof, at least I still got the alert for it, I'll try royal road, have never used it before so that'll be fun

    though I wonder, did you ask for it to be moved it was it moved by others?

    I ask since I have seen sfw stories, which I think this doesn't really qualify as, all the time in the nsfw section
     
    Zaster said:
    This is because, despite what anyone wants to say, the fact remains that for most of QQ's audience, the sfw section is an afterthought at best, and a non-entity at worst.
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    Yeah. I use QQ for quite some time, and I have never clicked the little link that leads to the SFW section of it...

    Luckly I do have a RR account, so will be able to follow it there.
     
    Introspective Tinkerer said:
    Because the author outright said nothing NSFW would be happening in the story. Yet still posted it in NSFW.
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    Because, as the numbers prove, THAT'S WHERE THE READERS ARE.
    There's a long tradition of posting non-NSFW stories in the NSFW section so that the forum's readers will actually see and read it. The vast majority of us don't care if it's in the "wrong" section. But apparently a few people love ruining good things for the sake of pedantry.
     
    Where exactly are you getting the numbers that viewership had tanked?
    The number of likes? Most recent chapter is only one to have been posted in since the move to SFW. It already has half the likes the previous chapter did, so obviously people are seeing it. People who watch the thread are worth way more then a random who pops in, likes a chapter or two, and then never returns.
    Besides you claim viewership had tanked as an AN on this very chapter.

    If people are subscribed to the story, it doesn't matter where it is anyways, as it pops up on their alerts.

    Yeah there might not be a hundred people reading right this moment but slower turn over on page 1 means there doesn't need to be a new post every 30 seconds to keep the story thread visible to casual browsers. Personally I check SFW once every few weeks, check for interesting new stories since I last did so, and subscribe to them.

    Sounds like your mind was made up well before the story was moved to where it belongs.

    Have you ever considered the 'extra' readers in the NSFW section were only in it for the lewds, and just going be angry voices when they find out there is no plan to ever have any?
    If your story and writing is good, people will read it in either section. If your story needs a bait and switch to pull in the readers...

    I don't have RR, nor do I care to make yet another account for one story.

    Fijili said:
    Because, as the numbers prove, THAT'S WHERE THE READERS ARE.
    There's a long tradition of posting non-NSFW stories in the NSFW section so that the forum's readers will actually see and read it. The vast majority of us don't care if it's in the "wrong" section. But apparently a few people love ruining good things for the sake of pedantry.
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    It's a funny cycle.
    No readers in SFW -> Only post stories in NSFW -> No stories in SFW -> No readers in SFW

    If everyone is going to post their SFW stories in NSFW to chase 'the numbers', then the two sections may as well be merged into a common Creative Writing section.
     
    Pulsar232 said:
    I'll try to keep up but Jesus fuck I have so many forums and websites I follow I'm probably gonna forget. Why was this moved to SFW anyway?
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    People wanted segs, people didn't get segs, so the peole who wanted segs fucked things over for tge people who were satisfied.
    At least that's the way i think it happened.
     
    Zaster said:
    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.
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    Oh shit the author just Mirror of erised me. The hat is Nilrem's Horcrux he was Sally old student and the most famous wizard merlin
     
    Introspective Tinkerer said:
    Because the author outright said nothing NSFW would be happening in the story. Yet still posted it in NSFW.
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    He posted in The NSFW section for more reasons than numbers.

    On FF and SB, there's a tone of shit being thrown his way about Harry being a predator and grooming Hermine. So for that reason, I could see why he'd post it in NSFW.

    Dosent really matter sense people managed to chase him off, what a mad house
     
    Sanbashi said:
    He posted in The NSFW section for more reasons than numbers.

    On FF and SB, there's a tone of shit being thrown his way about Harry being a predator and grooming Hermine. So for that reason, I could see why he'd post it in NSFW.

    Dosent really matter sense people managed to chase him off, what a mad house
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    Thread Necromancy?

    In my forum?!
     
    Zaster said:
    A/N: so, as you may have noticed if you've been here since the start, this story has now been moved to the sfw section, and since then, the viewership has, simply put, tanked.

    This is because, despite what anyone wants to say, the fact remains that for most of QQ's audience, the sfw section is an afterthought at best, and a non-entity at worst.

    Seeing this, I have hereby decided to stop posting this story here, just like I did at ff.net when the stress of posting outweighed the return in viewership.

    Therefore, if you would like to continue reading this story from when next I post, click on this link. And if you would like to read more right now, then here's my Patreon to read four chapters ahead.

    Thank you, and take care.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Crying shame. I had it on alert so I wouldn't miss it, but I'm not trucking my ass over to another website because you feel slighted because QQ is, well, QQ. I have enough shit to manage as is.

    Have a life.
     
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