Chapter 12.4- Doom Days

“I just wanted to talk, Harry. I just wanted to talk to my best friend” She said, and I nodded at her.

“Alright then, Hermione. Let’s talk.” I replied.

“Really? Here?” She asked, gesturing to our immediate surroundings. I gave them a look as well. The charms classroom was on the Third floor. It wasn’t exactly an area of the castle that saw much in the way of foot traffic except for Flitwick’s occasional classes, and considering he had about fourteen of those, there was some measure of traffic here.

“Alright then. Follow me” I said to her. The third floor did not have a lot to its name, but it did have a deserted East Corridor. A deserted East Corridor that would be familiar to both of us. She noticed after we made the second turn. Of course she did. She would not be the brightest witch of our age without that amazing memory of hers.

We arrived at the door, and I opened it with a wave of my wand before we walked in. Just like expected, it was empty. The trap door was still there, but I had no interested in going down that peculiar rabbit hole. I waved my wand to lock the door and place a basic privacy ward.

“Take a seat, Hermione” I told her, and just as she was about to comment on the sparse furnishings the room enjoyed, I waved my hand and conjured a one to one replica of the arm chair that sat next to the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room. It was the same one that had the direct view to the Male dorms stairwell. It was where Hermione had sat on many a morning waiting for Ron and I to get down so we could go down for breakfast together. I hoped the gesture was not lost on her, but the way her eyes lingered on my wand and not the chair did not give me much hope for that.

I waved my wand again and conjured a comparatively simpler but much more plush version of the chair she sat in. “H-how?” She finally found her voice. “Conjuration is NEWT-level magic. We’re not supposed to cover the conjugation of large objects until the Second Semester of our Sixth year”

“Well, with someone after my life, I had more than enough motivation to get strong and to do so quickly” I said, beginning to manipulate her without evenv trying.

“Oh Harry” She suddenly looked extremely saddened, before the looks turned into one of censure.

“But you told the Daily Prophet that you entered the Tournament of your own accord. You can’t say that there, and now expect me to believe that you were entered because someone is out to kill you” She said.

“Yes I do. Use your head, Hermione. Something in this castle tried to kill me every year since I enrolled. The only reason I’m in the tournament is because someone wants to use it to either kill or discredit me. By taking the credit for answering, I hope whoever planned the attack takes that as a sign that we aren’t on their tail so they let their guard down.” I said next, and she stared at me for what felt like hours before she nodded, still not looking convinced.