Hermione's Secret At Hogwarts

Harry was still smiling, but his eyes had moved to the corridor. Students hurried past with trunks and owls, their voices rising over the clatter of wheels. Hermione followed his glance, then noticed something caught beneath the compartment door.

At first she thought it was a torn scrap of newspaper. She bent to retrieve it, expecting rubbish, but the parchment was thick and yellowed, its edge cut cleanly. A silver thread had been stitched through one corner.

Hermione turned it over.

There was no writing on the front. On the back, however, a line of ink appeared when the train lurched into a patch of sunlight.

NOT WHERE THE STONE IS KEPT.

Below it, in smaller letters:

LOOK WHERE THE HEART SHOWS WHAT THE EYES CANNOT.

The ink faded almost at once.

Harry leaned over. “What does it say?”

Hermione folded the parchment before Ron could see. “Nothing important.”

Ron narrowed his eyes. “That usually means it’s something important.”

“It was probably left by a student playing a foolish trick.”

“Then why are you hiding it?”

“Because I’m examining it.”

She slipped the parchment into the inside pocket of her robes. The silver thread pricked her finger through the fabric.

The words would not leave her alone. The Philosopher’s Stone had been hidden at Hogwarts, protected by enchantments and creatures chosen by the professors. Hermione knew that much from the clues Harry and Ron had gathered during the previous year. If the message was connected to the Stone, it suggested that the writer knew something about its protection - or wanted someone to believe they did.

And the second line sounded like a riddle.

The heart shows what the eyes cannot.

Hermione had read about enchanted mirrors. Some showed the past, some revealed concealed objects, and some reflected a person’s deepest desire. A name surfaced in her memory, half-remembered from a book in the library.

The Mirror of Erised.

She reached for her schoolbag, but Harry caught her wrist.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking something up.”

“We’re almost there.”

“I can look it up quickly.”

Ron leaned across the seat. “Is this about the Stone?”

Hermione looked at him sharply. “Lower your voice.”

That was answer enough.

Ron’s expression changed. Harry’s smile disappeared.

“You said it was nothing important,” Harry said.

“I said it might be a trick.”

“Then why are you treating it like a clue?”

“Because it mentions something that may be connected to the Stone.”

The train shrieked as it rounded a bend. A flock of birds scattered from a line of trees, flashing white against the evening sky.

Harry reached for the parchment. Hermione pulled it back.

“Let me see it.”

“No.”

“Hermione.”

“If someone left it for us, we don’t know what it does.”

“It’s a piece of parchment.”

“So was the diary that nearly killed Ginny.”

Ron went pale. Harry’s hand fell away.

For a moment, the only sound was the train hammering over the rails.

Hermione softened her voice. “I’m not saying it’s cursed. I’m saying we ought to be careful.”

Harry looked at the pocket where she had hidden it. “You think I’m being led somewhere.”

“I think someone may be trying to lead all of us somewhere.”

That silenced them.

The train began to slow. Trunks rattled in the luggage racks. Students stood in the corridor, calling to one another as they pulled on cloaks. Hermione tucked the parchment deeper into her pocket and fastened the clasp.

Her plan for the first days at Hogwarts had been simple. Keep Harry from wandering into danger. Make certain he attended every lesson, read every assignment, and noticed anything unusual before it became a crisis. She had even made a list, though she had decided not to show it to Ron.

Now the list seemed absurdly neat.

The train gave one final jolt and stopped.

Outside, darkness had settled over the platform. Lanterns swung in the wind, throwing yellow light across wet stone. Their trunks were hauled away by magic, and the three of them joined the stream of students moving toward the carriages.

Hermione kept one hand over her pocket.

At the castle, the great doors opened onto the entrance hall. Torchlight gleamed on the flagstones. The ceiling vanished into shadow above them, and the sound of hundreds of footsteps rolled through the stone like distant thunder.

“First-years this way!” called a familiar voice.

Hagrid stood near the doors, waving the youngest students toward the boats. He spotted Harry and beamed.

“Harry! Hermione! Ron! Good ter see yeh!”

“Hello, Hagrid,” Hermione called.

Harry waved, but his attention had already wandered toward the staircase.

Hermione caught his sleeve. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I’m not.”

“You say that now.”

Ron glanced at her. “Are you planning to tie him to a suit of armour?”

“If necessary.”

The older students were being directed toward the Great Hall, but Hermione paused beneath the archway. The parchment had grown warm.

She drew it out.

The writing had returned.

NOT WHERE THE STONE IS KEPT.

This time, a third line spread slowly across the parchment.

THE EMPTY ROOM REMEMBERS.

Hermione’s breath caught.

At the far end of the entrance hall stood a tall door she did not remember seeing before. It was set beneath a carved arch, partly hidden by a hanging of deep red cloth. No students were entering. A brass plaque beside it bore no name.

Harry followed her gaze. “What is that?”

“I don’t know.”

Ron peered at the door. “Looks cheerful.”

The parchment warmed further, almost hot enough to burn. A faint silver mark appeared beneath the writing: a circle crossed by a vertical line, like the outline of a mirror seen edge-on.

Hermione’s thoughts raced. If the message truly pointed toward the Mirror of Erised, then the empty room might be where it was kept. But why would anyone leave the clue on the train? Why hide it from Harry, then make the parchment reveal itself in the entrance hall?

A bell rang somewhere above them.

“Students!” called Professor McGonagall from the Great Hall doors. “Move along, please.”

Harry took a step toward the unmarked door.

Hermione seized his robes. “No.”

He turned. “You said we should find out what it is.”

“I said we should be careful.”

“You can’t tell me there’s a secret door with a message pointing at it and then expect me to ignore it.”

“I can if the message is bait.”

Ron nodded reluctantly. “She’s got a point.”

Harry looked from Ron to Hermione. “What are we supposed to do, then?”

Hermione glanced toward Professor McGonagall. The professor was watching the remaining students with a sharp, impatient expression. If Hermione asked her about the door, she might take the parchment. She might also ask how Hermione had found it, and why she had concealed it.

The parchment’s edge curled in her hand.

Someone wanted her to open that door.

She folded it once, then again, and pushed it into the inner pocket of her robes.

“I’ll investigate,” she whispered.

Harry stared at her. “You said no.”

“I said you shouldn’t.”

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s sensible. If there’s a trap, one person is less likely to trigger it than three.”

Ron gave a nervous laugh. “That’s not how traps work.”

Hermione ignored him. She had already decided. She would wait until the Sorting was finished, learn where the corridors were, and return when the castle had quieted. She would find the Mirror of Erised before Harry could be drawn toward it.

She turned toward the Great Hall.

The brass plaque beside the hidden door clicked.

Hermione stopped.

A thin line of light appeared beneath the door, though no lamp burned in the room beyond. For one instant, she saw a reflection in the polished stone floor: herself standing before a great mirror, her hands pressed against its frame.

Then the light vanished.

“Did you see that?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said.

Professor McGonagall’s voice cut across the hall. “Miss Granger.”

Hermione looked up.

The professor stood beside the Great Hall doors, her eyes fixed not on Hermione’s face but on the hand covering her pocket.

“Is there something you wish to show me?”

The parchment burned against Hermione’s skin.

She forced her hand away from it and stepped into the golden light of the hall, while behind her the unmarked door gave a soft, unmistakable click.

End of chapter one. 4 more chapters in the full book.