Stormseeker: Borrowed Destiny

Potions class the next day is interesting after that.

"Hey, Potter," Draco says. "I'm surprised you didn't come to class in your skivvies, too."

"I was hoping that nobody saw me," I mutter.

"Half the castle saw you, mate," Ron says ruefully.

"Obviously not Draco, or he would have mentioned it to me yesterday," I say.

"Why were you going to see Snape that early in the morning, anyway?" Ron asks.

"That's what I'd like to know," Draco says.

"Quiet down, class," Professor Snape says. "Today's lesson is about to begin." He leans over Ron and Draco. "And I hardly see how Potter's potion requirements are any of your business. If he wishes you to hear the details of his nightmares, he will tell you."

"Er, sorry, mate," Ron murmurs sheepishly.

Snape's warning even manages to get Draco to back down, for the moment at any rate. I have a feeling I'm not going to live down the lightning bolt pajamas for a while, though. At least they didn't see me in my dragon pajamas.

Weeks roll by, and Halloween comes along. This is a new holiday to me, although it sounds like a fun one. I'm certainly not one to object to a bit of fun and candy. I'm looking forward to the feast in the Great Hall this evening.

At Charms class this morning, I'm excited that we're finally getting a practical lesson. We're to be casting the Hover Charm to levitate feathers. I'd tried this one out over the summer, but I hadn't quite gotten down the wand movements.

"Now remember," Professor Flitwick says. "Swish and flick, and say Wingardium Leviosa."

I look over at Ron's attempts next to me, which aren't having much success, mostly due to his pronunciation, I think.

"Ron, it's Wingardium Leviosa," I tell him. "I don't know why you people from this country are always putting your R's in the wrong places."

"Here, like this," Hermione says. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Hermione waves her wand, and her feather obediently lifts lightly into the air. Professor Flitwick, upon seeing this, claps his hands a little and says, "Very good, Miss Granger! Five points to Gryffindor."

As class is ending, Lavender Brown has a few choice words to say to Hermione. "You're suck a stuck-up know-it-all," Lavender says. "You always act like you know better than everyone else. I'll bet the only reason Harry and Ron even act nice to you is so that they can mooch off of you for studying."

"That's not--" I begin.

"Is that true?" Hermione demands, spinning toward me.

"No way!" I insist. "You're my friend!"

"I don't believe you!" Hermione says, teary-eyed. She vanishes into the crowd.

Hermione is absent from Transfiguration today. Professor McGonagall frowns a little toward the empty chair where Hermione normally sits.

"Where is she?" Ron murmurs. "That's not like her. Hermione never cuts class."

"I think I saw her in the girls' loo, crying," Parvati Patil says.

"Serves her right," Lavender says quietly. Not quietly enough, as she earns a nasty glare from McGonagall for her comment.

"Why can't we all just be friends?" I murmur softly, sighing.

Transfiguration class comes and goes, and I go off to study a bit and do some homework. I'm practically bouncing with eagerness for the feast tonight. New things always get me excited.

I head down for dinner this evening. The Great Hall is decorated with carved pumpkins containing candles. Live bats swoop around the ceiling. And the feast itself is delicious. So many different kinds of tasty treats. I hadn't realized that pumpkins were so versitile before. Dinner is tasty enough, but I can't wait for dessert.

Then, Professor Quirrell storms into the Great Hall. "Troll!" he exclaims. "There's a troll in the dungeon! Thought you should know." Then he faints straight away.

"How did a troll get into the castle?" I wonder.

"Don't know," Ron says. "Maybe somebody let it in as a prank."

"Wasn't us," Fred declares.

"And I always knew Quirrell was useless as a Defense teacher," I say. "Fainting? Really now."

"He should've stuck with Muggle Studies," says an older boy whose name I don't remember.

Dumbledore is up front trying to get the crowd to quiet down and get everyone's attention. "Prefects, take your houses to their dormitories straight away."

Percy begins herding the group around us back up toward Gryffindor Tower. At least the seventh floor should be plenty far enough away from where the troll is to be safe, I suppose. I wonder what they're doing about the Slytherins. Their dormitories are in the dungeons, after all.

Well, I'm sure the school staff have the issue well in hand. No need to worry about it. I'm just a first year, after all. I'm not even chronologically eleven years old yet. I can barely float feathers and make my wand glow. This isn't my problem.

We make it back to our common room. "Kind of a pity," I say. "We didn't even have dessert yet."

"Yeah, rotten luck," Seamus agrees.

"Don't worry," Percy assures us. "We'll be finishing the feast in the common room."

"Great!" I exclaim, grinning.

"Wouldn't want everyone to go hungry, after all," Percy says.

Food gets sent up, and I engross myself in devouring as many treats as I can fit in my mouth. Not quite the way I'd thought the holiday would go, but I'll not complain. It was certainly a little exciting. The troll thing is probably just a big joke.

Once I finish with dessert, and feeling like my stomach is about to explode, I head up to my dormitory to do a little reading before I go to sleep. My Transfiguration textbook is a good one to look over. Maybe one day I can learn to turn into a dragon, if I study diligently enough.

At breakfast the next morning, Professor Dumbledore stands up as if to make an announcement. "Students, I regret to inform you that last night's fiasco was not without its casualties. First year student Hermione Granger was found dead in the girls' restroom--"

My fork clatters to the floor in a silence so deep that it echoes throughout the Great Hall.

"--unfortunately, the school staff arrived on the scene too late to save her. I assure you that we are conducting a thorough investigation into how the troll got into the castle. Our hearts go out to Miss Granger's friends and family..."

"Excuse me," I murmur.

I get up from the table and rush off toward the boys' bathroom, and proceed to puke up my breakfast. My whole body feels cold, and I'm shaking uncontrollably.

Hermione. Dead. I didn't even realize she wasn't at the feast. She's dead, and I can't save her. I can't save her now. I can't go back to yesterday. Why couldn't I have learned about this yesterday? She's dead, and it's all my fault. My fault. What kind of a useless time traveler am I if I can't save my friends?

Surely there must be some way. Some way to go back and save her. There must be. But I don't know what it is. My body turns itself inside out as I continue puking, even though there's no breakfast left to puke up anymore.

"Muffliato," says a voice behind me. I didn't even realize someone else had come into the bathroom until I heard Snape's voice casting a privacy spell. "Did something go wrong yesterday, Stormseeker?"

"I didn't find out until it was too late," I reply. "Abyss, I feel so useless. I can't go back to yesterday! I didn't know... I didn't know..." Tears are streaming down my cheeks, and I'm still trembling. "I don't know how to go back to yesterday..." I say in a small voice.

Professor Snape's firm hand is on my shoulder, steadying me. "Come on," he says gently. "Let's get you back to my office and get some potions in you."

"Yes, sir," I whisper, and go to follow along after him. My knees feel like I've been hit with a Jelly-Legs Jinx, but I manage to walk all the way there.

Once down in Snape's office, he pulls out a few potions and hands them to me, and I silently down them one by one without even bothering to ask what they are. But at least they make me stop shaking and feeling so sick.

"It's all my fault," I whisper.

"Listen to me, Stormseeker," Snape says firmly. "You did not kill Hermione Granger. You cannot blame yourself for that. If anything, it is our fault, the teachers, for not finding the troll quickly enough."

"But I could've saved her," I murmur. "Should've saved her..."

"You can't save everyone, Stormseeker," Snape says.

"Why not?" I demand. "Why can't I? Why can't I save everyone?"

"For one thing, you're wallowing rather than trying to do something about it," Snape says.

"What can I do?" I ask. "I can't go back!"

"Look," Snape says more gently, sighing. "I know what it's like to lose people you care about. To not be able to do anything about it. You are in a unique position that there might sometimes be something you can do to change it. And I envy you that."

"There has to be some way I can go back..." I murmur. "If I can't save Hermione, how can I ever save my family?"

"Perhaps there is a way," Snape says. "And perhaps one day you will find it. But until then, you must go forward and do what you can."

I take a deep breath. "Yes, sir," I say. "You're right, sir."

I dare a little bit of hope. There has to be a way, of course. I just have to find it. I have a long way to go yet, and a lot to learn. I make a silent promise to myself that if I ever find a way, I will save Hermione...

"Are you up for class, or should I write you off for this morning?" Snape asks.

"I'll go to class," I say, more determinedly than I feel at the moment.

We head off toward Potions class. The students are already present, and we're running a few minutes late. I can't help but feel a little bad for making Snape late for class, too.

Snape launches into today's lesson, and I try to pay attention as best as I can. But the seat next to me is painfully empty. With Hermione gone, there's an uneven number of students in the class. Even Neville has a partner. And I'm all alone. If it weren't for Professor Snape, I would feel so completely lost and alone.

I stumble through making the assigned potion. I don't think I'm doing it right, though. I don't really have an eye for potions. Everything needs to be just right. My potion turns purple rather than orange like it's supposed to. I'm not sure what I even did wrong.

"Try to pay attention to the instructions, Mr. Potter," Snape says, coming by my table. He waves his wand over my cauldron, and the faulty potion vanishes. At least it didn't explode and hurt someone. "Start over."

"Yes, sir," I say softly.

Snape walks away, and I patiently begin the process over again, trying to focus better this time. At least it'll keep my mind off of my grief.

"What's the matter, Potter?" Draco says tauntingly from behind me. "Can't do your lessons properly without your Mudblood friend holding your hand all the way?"

My hand freezes in the middle of chopping my ingredients. "Don't talk about Hermione to me, Draco," I warn him, my blood starting to boil.

"Why not?" Draco says. "She's just a filthy Mudblood. The school's better off without her! I say we should let in more trolls--"

Crack-a-boom! Rage pushes me over the edge. A small thunderstorm fills the room unbidden. Lightning crackles around me. Every cauldron in the room shatters suddenly, sending shards of pewter and splashes of half-finished potion all over. And Draco gets struck full on by a bolt of electricity.

I fall to my knees, panting softly and staring at the floor. I don't want to look at my handiwork. I didn't really want to hurt anyone. But I was so angry. So angry. I just lost it.

"Mr. Crabbe!" Snape is saying. "Take Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing at once."

I'm shaking again. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Accidental magic," Snape says. "You're just lucky that we were working on a fairly benign potion today, Mr. Potter."

"I'm sorry," I whisper again. Although I find that I'm not really as sorry as I should be for hurting Draco. The rest of the class didn't deserve the backlash, however.

"And for Mr. Malfoy's remarks, ten points from Slytherin," Snape says. "Yes, from my own house. I hope this is a lesson to any of you who think that it's funny for people to die, or that they deserve to just because they're different from you."

"I'm sorry," I murmur a third time.

"As for you, Mr. Potter," Snape says. "You need to get control over yourself. You'll have detention with me. For the remainder of the year."

"Yes, sir," I reply automatically, not even bothering to argue for show.

The next day, I have my Occlumency lesson with Professor Snape under the guise of a detention. I feel like I really deserve more than a detention, though. But I'm trying not to wallow in my own misplaced guilt.

"You are fortunate that Mr. Malfoy was not seriously injured, Stormseeker," Snape says. "His family could have caused serious problems for the school and for you if he had been."

"He was being a right prat," I say bitterly.

"Indeed he was," Snape says. "Harry Potter's own mother, Lily Evans, was a Muggle-born witch herself, and like Miss Granger, she was one of the best in her class."

"Was she your friend?" I ask quietly.

"That's getting a bit personal, Stormseeker," Snape says.

"Sorry, sir," I say.

"I'm just glad to say that you are nothing like James Potter," Snape says. "Never mind that, though. After yesterday's outburst, it's all the more clear that you need to learn to control your emotions."

"Yes, sir," I say glumly.

"You are a very powerful wizard, Stormseeker, and it will not do for that power to be unleashed unconsciously, without clear intent."

"I know," I say quietly. "I could have killed someone, and not even just Draco."

"Indeed," Snape says. "Take some deep breaths, and clear your mind. Be calm, like the still, deep ocean."

"Calm, like the eye of the storm?" I say softly.

"If it helps to think of it that way," Snape says. "You do seem to have an association with storms, after all."

I think of my emotions as a storm raging around me. Anger, grief, hatred, sorrow, guilt, blame, rage, pain... But I am at the center. I'm in the heart of the storm, untouched by the whipping winds.

"Yes... yes..." Snape says. "You are finally making progress, Stormseeker. It's very fragile still, and you will need a lot of practice at it, but this is the first sign I've seen that you have any real hope of learning this at all."

"I am the eye of the storm..." I whisper.

"Keep at this as much as you can," Snape says. "I will continue test you every week. You may return to your dormitory now."

It's still early, and I was kind of hoping that the lesson would go on a bit longer. It's been difficult enough to face my classmates, after yesterday. Not only with Hermione's death, but with that abrupt display of violent power as well. They're all giving me a wide berth, keeping their distance from me, like they're afraid of me. Even Ron.

Back in the Gryffindor common room, I spot Ron at one of the tables, doing some homework with Neville, Seamus, and Dean. I go over to them tentatively. Maybe I can still mend things with my friends. Those of them who are left.

"Hey," I say softly. "Do you guys mind if I join you?"

The four of them look up at me uneasily, and Dean says, "Didn't you have detention with Snape?"

"He let me out early," I say.

"That was nasty of him to give you detention over that," Ron says. "Malfoy was being a right prat."

"Still, I shouldn't have lost control like that," I say. "I'm sorry about yesterday, guys."

They're quiet for a few moments, and then Ron shrugs. "Well, nobody but Malfoy was even really hurt," he says. He still sounds a little uneasy, though.

"And Snape didn't even bother grading our potions, either," Neville says, his voice shaking a little. "Which is just as well, as I think I screwed up again."

"Say," Dean says. "I don't suppose you can do an encore of that feat? There's a few other people I can think of that should be electrocuted."

I chuckle softly, and go to sit down with them. I pull out some homework of my own to do. The atmosphere is still a little tense, but I'm still their friend. Just a friend that they're all a little afraid might blow up at any given moment without warning.

But it still feels wrong to be studying without Hermione at my side.