Means to an End

"Who are you?"

Hermi, still clutching the arm of the girl before her, went rigid. She's still alive? How is that possible? Why isn't she like the others downstairs?

The arm shifted out from her grasp slowly. As the woman opened her eyes, the girl proceeded to wipe her tears with her bloody fists. Blue eyes stared thoughtfully at the older face, awaiting some sort of answer, but Hermi's mouth wouldn't form the words necessary to reply.

"Alright, let's try something easier," the girl continued in a slightly condescending tone. Hermi immediately became indignant. I'm not dumb!

"My name is Ginevra Weasley," she stated, her proud tone made slightly less harsh with its rasping quality. "Who are you?"

The girl beamed at her. "Hermione Granger," she replied amiably. "I thought you might be in shock, so a good blow to the pride might..."

"Wait a minute--me? You thought I'd be in shock?" Hermi was flabbergasted. "You've been standing in this exact place for five centuries, and you think I'm in shock?"

"Well--yes. It's not every day you meet someone five hundred-plus years old."

Hermi, though she was a usually a good people-person, was not sure how to deal with Hermione Granger. "How did you know you're five centuries old?"

"You just told me," Miss Granger said calmly. She smiled. "See how much you can learn in just a few seconds conversation?"

I was named after this witch? Cool!

"If you're wondering, I woke up because the magic is leaving this particular area," continued Hermione. Hermi blinked.

"The magic is leaving the castle?"

"No, the spell which kept Hogwarts awake all these years is wearing down. The castle had to let me go because it doesn't have the strength to keep us all asleep," explained the girl.

"But Harry said that the Room of Requirement isn't a part of the school anymore," stated a very confused Hermi. A strange emotion flickered over the face of the younger witch.

"I suppose we'll just have to ask him about that," Hermione replied. She turned to the wall where the door should have been.

It was there.

Hermi's jaw dropped. "I don't think I've seen so much natural magic in my entire life," she murmured. Hermione glanced at her and frowned. The older woman could tell there were many questions springing into the girl's mind, but she didn't voice any of them.

Hermione grasped the handle and pushed the door in easily. She motioned for the heiress to enter and then shut the door behind the two. "Exactly as we left it," she said, a slight disapproving tone creeping into her voice. Hermi could see what she was talking about, though she had no idea why the Room should meet with her disapproval.

Large runic letters were etched into the stone floor, black and dead like the markings at Stonehenge. Parchments and books older than the oldest volumes contained in Hermi's family library were strewn atop the heavy wooden tables. Maps were tacked across a portion of the walls, and a large scribbled-over blackboard stood to one side of the room.

But directly across the room from them, sitting peacefully against the wall, was a boy about Hermione's age. He smiled at them in greeting and rose gingerly, as though he'd been sitting for some time in an uncomfortable position.

"I'm glad you made it here safely, Hermi," said Harry. "I wasn't sure if the castle would be satisfied with your friend..."

"Why?"

"It was about to lose its hold on Hermione, so it wanted to disrupt its system as little as possible by taking hold of one other. I believe he's gotten free, so no need to worry..."

"YOU CERTAINLY SHOULD BE WORRIED, HARRY JAMES POTTER!"

A stricken look took hold of the boy's features as Hermione advanced menacingly upon him. "Err, Hermione! Nice to see you--it's been what? Five centuries? You look good!"

Hermione Granger was not buying it. Hermi winced as the girl went full speed into a terrifying rant about how stupid could you be, pulling a stunt like that, and what about all the younger students--THEY HAVE NO FAMILIES NOW!

Hermi had to admit--she had a point.

Seamus' laughter rang in his ears as Morgan blinked his eyes open. He turned all around to see if Hermi was near, but the room through the portrait door was empty as was the corridor. Shaking his head of the last vestiges of confusion, Morgan began jogging towards the staircases. I need to find that room and tell Harry what Seamus said...

The castle was silent except for the echoing of his footsteps. No bursts of magical energy tried to reach him, no visions of green valleys or waiting people assailed his vision. Morgan simply walked steadfastly onwards, climbing moving staircase after moving staircase until a full seven flights had been achieved.

There's a tapestry, Hermi said, across the way from where the door should be.

In good time, a tapestry was found directly across from a heavy oak door. Morgan hesitated entering the Room; instead, he chose to inspect the woven threads depicting a bloody figure standing unflinchingly on a bloody battlefield...

"Eighth century A.D.," murmured the archaeologist as he moved closer to inspect it. "Or it could be as late as the ninth century--I wonder why the picture's not moving like it should..."

Morgan ghosted his fingers across a small patch of the tapestry as one would do to particularly sensitive bomb circuitry. It didn't matter, however, how lightly his touch graced its surface:

It crumbled.

In a second it was gone--the only way Morgan knew it had been there was the pile of finely crushed dust along the joining of the wall and the floor. His training in practical archaeology (what to do in a site-contamination situation) made his panic levels skyrocket--Oh my god, what have I done?

Without a second thought, Morgan raced across the corridor and threw the heavy door open wide. His panicking brain registered three people standing in the room (Hermi, Harry, and some other girl he didn't know yet) but little else.

"The tapestry," he gasped, "it crumbled to dust--picture wasn't moving like I'd heard they were supposed to, I only wanted to see if it would respond to light stimulus, I didn't meant to ruin it..."

"Morgan!" interrupted Hermi in a firm voice. The two young people threw puzzled glances behind the archaeologist into the hall. "You're talking like a madman, now shut up and calm down!"

But nothing she said would snap him out of his state. Meanwhile, while Hermi tried to talk sense into Morgan, Hermione and Harry had moved past the older couple to stand in the doorway.

"Harry," began Hermione in a quiet undertone. "Is this supposed to happen?"

The boy bit his lip, and Hermione knew she wasn't going to like his answer one bit.

"No," Harry said after a moment's pause. "The castle was only supposed to return to its former state--like it was before I woke it. I suppose I should have been more alarmed--after all, the Room hasn't worked properly at all since the spell began."

"Then how have you survived all this time?" demanded his friend. The Boy-Who-Lived smiled sheepishly.

"I said the Room hasn't worked properly, not that it hasn't worked at all," he stated. "I lived in a sort of semi-symbiosis with it for about three centuries, so I suppose my body absorbed the ability to remain, if you know what I mean."

"Scarily enough, I do," replied Hermione primly. A thoughtful look crossed her face, and Harry realized he had given her an idea about something. A resounding slap behind them made them turn around to look at the older man and woman again.

Morgan was nursing a reddened cheek on the floor while Hermi stood triumphantly over him.

"You just weren't responding," the heiress replied to his whining.

"I've only known you for a fortnight and you already abuse me," growled Morgan as he regained his footing. He glanced at the younger pair near the door. "What did I do wrong?" he asked guiltily.

Before Harry could reply, his friend spoke.

"You did nothing wrong," she said firmly. "Harry on the other hand, is an absolute idiot."

"Hey! I got rid of Voldemort, didn't I?" cried the young man in question. At Hermione's withering glare he backed down.

"Anyway," continued the young woman. "I believe the magic in the castle is leaking into something, or someone, and that's why the tapestry crumbled. We'll just have to put a stop to it, right now."

The other three occupants of the room stared at her in awe.

"How did you come to that conclusion, Miss--err..."

"Hermione Granger, sir," she replied. "And it was what Harry just told me about how he'd been preserved like us without being frozen. He needs to cut off the spell--completely."

Harry shot her a dark look. "So now the castle falling apart is my fault?"

"Excuse me, Mr. Savior of the World, but who exactly was crazy enough to wake up a magic castle from centuries of sleep and make it do your dirty work for you?"

"What part of 'it's the only way' do you not understand?"

Hermi cleared her throat loudly. "While this is vastly amusing, perhaps we should get started on whatever it takes to stop the castle from completely falling apart? There are several hundred other people still frozen out there."

"Ah yes!" cried Morgan. "Harry, Seamus told me to tell you that they're ready to wake up--you just had to give the word."

Three looks of confusion were now cast upon the archaeologist.

"He told me--really, Hermi, that look is unbecoming--while the castle had me trapped," he explained. The boy blinked and gave a hesitant nod.

"I suppose," Harry began, "that cutting off my connection to the spell will do the trick."

"Yes, but how do we go about that?" murmured Hermi. Harry shrugged.

"It should be simple," he said. "I just have to find the connection and cut off the flow of magic it seems to be pumping into me. Now that you mention it, Hermione, I have felt rather strange since the Room went 'dead'--more powerful, if you will."

"You would," his friend replied promptly. "You've had the single most powerful object feeding you its ancient magic for centuries--but I have to admit, you are a bit less dense than you were when we were in school."

"Thank you, I'm sure," was the sarcastic reply. Harry pushed past Morgan and Hermi and sat down amid the runic etchings in the floor. "I'd appreciate it if no one interrupted me," he said. "It might be simple, but it will take a while I imagine."

"We'll go exploring," said Morgan immediately. Hermi nodded her agreement enthusiastically. "Since Hermione here must know the castle well, she can guide us through it."

"And we'll make sure not to touch anything that isn't glowing anymore," added the heiress. "We should keep the damage to a minimum."

The younger girl, however, was biting her lip nervously. "That's another problem we'll have to address," Hermione stated. "How do we return the magic once you stop it flowing into you?"

Harry frowned. "There will be a loose end," he said thoughtfully. "With any luck, the magic will keep flowing, just not into me. It'll search out things that should be magical but are weaker than it--trust me on this."

His friend nodded and motioned to the older two people. "Have fun, Harry."

"What is meditation but fun?"