Harry Potter: New World

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Hermione took a couple of deep breaths.

"Hermione. Seriously. This is a chance. It's a real chance. If it doesn't work out and I stay a werewolf, we'll find another way. But if I give up and get scared and miss the moment before the first transformation? What if it works? By the calculations, it should work out."

"I don't know where you're going to perform this no doubt insane ritual, but I'm coming with you and don't even think about arguing. Do you have the notes with you? You did compile your ritual, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"I'll double-check it."

"If it makes you feel any better... Go put some warm clothes on."

"You won't run away?"

"No."

Hermione said the password and hid behind the portrait, and I really waited. Let's open some cards and see what comes out of it. In fact, she should be proficient enough in occlumency to avoid superficial mind scanning, and an average level won't save her from purposeful legiliments with her wand from the likes of Snape or Dumbledore. Nor should an advanced one - you have to be an expert here. At least that's the impression you get of their abilities from their knowledge of the canon. And who else is capable of something like that? The art of Legilimency may and is considered dark, but I have long understood the simple truth of this world. Not caught - not a thief.

It took the girl only a couple of minutes to change into warm pants, a sweater, and a jacket and scarf.

"I'm going to hide us from prying ears and eyes. Give me your hand."

Taking the girl's hand, I immediately experienced her iron grip. I took out my wand, cast a set of cloaking spells on us in quick motions, and walked quickly toward the Chamber of Secrets.

"The women's toilet?" the charms did not conceal the voice. "Really?"

I didn't even realize how strange it felt to have the source of the voice in front of you, but you couldn't see it.

"It's more than just a toilet."

"Of course, it's more than that! After all, Moaning Myrtle lives here. I hope she's not here now."

"Who knows..."

I led us to a circle of sinks.

"Open up-sss-ss-s."

"I see it's a day of great mysteries," there was no fear in Hermione's voice but plenty of sarcasm.

"I hope you're not afraid to get a little dirty?"

"I'm afraid of getting into Azkaban, Max. I highly doubt I'll get my sentence reduced for a clean robe."

"Excellent. Me first, you follow me."

"That's how it's going to be at the trial..."

After removing our charms so we could see each other, I jumped into the passageway and made it safely to the hall with the bones, which was steadily in semi-darkness. For the umpteenth time, I was glad that this winding pipe was polished to mirror-like smoothness by whomever.

"A-a-a-a!" the approaching girlish squeal tore me out of my thoughts about the smoothness of the pipe, and stepping back a step, put my hands forward.

Hermione squealed and flew out of the pipe, but I intercepted her. There, sprawled in my arms, the girl looked me in the eye with indignation.

"Under different circumstances, I might have enjoyed the moment."

"That's mutual," I swayed with sharp but short-lived dizziness, and Hermione hurriedly jumped out of my arms and immediately backed me up.

"It's okay," I nodded. "Let's move on."

Before I went any further, however, I walked up to the pipe and yelled "shut up" in parseltongue. Judging by the distinctive sound, the passage closed. Now, after conjuring a couple of regular Lumos, I led the girl further through the dungeons. Pretty quickly, we reached the memorable cave-in, where Lockhart had foolishly used Weasley's wand.

"And here's where Lockhart deprived himself of his memory," I nodded at the cave-in. "And broke the ceiling. It's a miracle no one died."

" Oh..."

Hermione was clearly absorbing the information. Perhaps later, she will remind me of this hike. Again.

When I reached the big round door with the snakes, I had to speak Parseltongue again. If I had more strength and felt better, maybe I would have smiled at Hermione, who flinched at the sharp thud of the opening locks. When the round and the massive door slid aside, I led the girl into the very hall. It was still gloomy and cold, and the unknown sources of dim light under the ceiling allowed me to see only minor details, the remains of the destruction from the battle and the carcass of a basilisk with a severed head that has not yet begun to spoil. It looked as if it had just been killed and butchered.