Creature of the Night

Creature of the Night

Chapter One

Hermione Granger shivered beneath her robe. She rubbed her arms, wishing that she’d worn heavier clothes underneath the traditional Hogwarts garment. Mumbling some memorized magic words, she sprinkled a handful of “borrowed” dust from Professor Snape’s collection. The fire in front of her immediately turned an icy blue. Although it still radiated heat, Hermione knew that it would not burn.

So she stepped into the fire.

A light and not unpleasant sensation tickled her skin where the cerulean flames touched it. She giggled quietly, trying to calm herself down enough to remember why she’d even gone through the trouble to create the blaze in the first place.

In the meantime, however, she was quite content to laugh and twirl in between the tongues of flame. For the hour she spent dancing on a remote Hogwarts tower, Hermione was not a "refined young maiden", as her mother called her, but a girl-child with unbridled freedom. But then the flames died and Hermione was left standing in a pile of ash.

Cold and tired, Hermione stumbled back to Gryffindor Tower, barely even conscious of the fact that she could get in serious trouble for being awake at this time of night. Nor did she notice the pair of eyes watching her from the gable shadows. When her exhausted mind finally registered that something might be amiss, she had already collapsed on her bed, asleep before her head hit the pillow.

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Hermione awoke the next morning with an awful crick in her neck and a blank where last night should’ve been. All she could remember was falling asleep on her bed, still fully clothed. Yawning and stretching, she looked down at the book she’d been using for a pillow.

In large letters, the cover announced itself to be “Vampires And The Secret Powers In YOU!” Hermione grumbled and shoved it to the floor, where it landed with a dull THUD. As far as she was concerned at the moment, vampires didn’t exist; she was back in her safe, overprotected Muggle world.

That train of thought was immediately derailed as Lavender Brown squealed from her own bed a few feet away.

“Hermione! Hermione! Wake up and look!”

Hermione cracked one eye and shot Lavender her best Evil Eye. Unfortunately, it didn’t have the intended effect and the overeager girl mistook the look for excitement.

“Look! You got a package! A really big one! A raven just delivered it!” Lavender continued, alerting everyone else in the dorm that Hermione now had a secret admirer who used a raven instead of an owl.

“Lemme see it,” Hermione finally groaned, hoisting herself into a sitting position. She glanced at her watch and moaned when she discovered that she’d barely gotten five hours of sleep.

“Here! Open it!” Lavender squealed again. Both she and Parvati Patil climbed onto Hermione’s bed, shoving the brown-wrapped package into her hands.

With a flick of her wand, Hermione untied the twine and rolled the brown bag wrapping into a neat pile. Inside the package was a heavy, scarlet-colored cloak.

“Oooh!” Parvati exclaimed as she shook the garment out. “It's dragonhide!”

“And there’s a card!” Lavender smiled slyly as she handed the folded paper to Hermione.

On the front, in sophisticated script that Hermione did not recognize, was the phrase, "To You". Hermione quickly unfolded the parchment, reading it quickly before handing it over to Lavender and Parvati.

“ ‘By way of the blue flame,’,” Lavender began mysteriously. She and Parvati giggled in unison, causing Hermione to roll her eyes and motion impatiently for them to continue.

“ ‘By way of the blue flame, this gift comes to you. It is crafted from the hide of a Hungarian Horntail, and is lined with Demiguise hairs. As such, it is useable as both a cold-weather garment and an Invisibility Cloak' ,” Parvati finished.

“The blue flame?” Lavender nudged Hermione, hoping to get some details.

“Oh, look, at the time!” Hermione shrieked in a falsetto that could’ve shattered glass. “I really should be going to the library to work on that vampire essay for Snape!” She quickly darted out of the 7th year dormitory, only to nearly collide with a very embarrassed looking Harry Potter.

“Morning, ‘Mione,” Harry grinned, rubbing the back of his head distractedly.

“Morning, Harry,” Hermione replied cautiously.

“So…listen…um…I was wondering if you wanted to go to the Graduation Ball with me,” blurted out the Boy Who Lived. Hermione paused a moment, considering her options.

“Give me some time to think it over, okay? I need a little time to myself right now,” she answered, choosing her words carefully. Her heart still cracked when she saw the hurt look on his face.

“Yeah, sure,” he mumbled before heading back over to his game of Wizarding Chess with Ron.

Hermione stared fondly at her two friends before climbing out of the portrait hall and heading towards the library.

<><><><><>

Safely ensconced in her favorite niche within the Hogwarts Library, Hermione pulled the mysterious package out of her bag. The cloak felt smooth against her fingers, and she absolutely adored the color. The dragonhide was an appealing combination of both rough and smooth textures, while the demiguise fur was soft and utterly dreamy beneath her hand.

“That’s an expensive cloak for a Mudblood,” a familiar voice drawled.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Hermione snapped, still running her fingers absently over the demiguise lining.

“You know, I think I’ve seen that before,” Draco Malfoy remarked, his voice losing its customary harshness. “One of Father’s guests was wearing it at our Christmas Ball.”

“Really?”

"Yes," Draco answered, ignoring Hermione's sarcasm. His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"You better be careful...Mudblood," he hissed before sauntering away.

Hermione watched him casually stroll away, disappearing around the corner of a bookshelf. She didn't feel safe here anymore, as if Malfoy's presence had completely erased whatever safety she'd had here. A shiver went down her spine and her face turned chalk white; something was going to happen.

But what? Hermione wondered to herself. And why?