0485 Hermione’s Secret

0485 Hermione’s Secret

Harry and Ron exchanged glances, both seeing the surprise in each other's eyes. They had known Hermione for so long, yet they had never heard her speak in such a tone.

"What's wrong?" Harry immediately sensed that Hermione was in big trouble. She seemed reluctant to let anyone know. After looking around to ensure no one was paying attention to them, Harry lowered his voice and asked, "What happened, Hermione?"

Hermione's fingers tightened around the strap of her worn leather school bag, her knuckles whitening with the force of her grip. Her eyes darted around the common room, scanning for potential eavesdroppers.

Only when she was satisfied that no one was paying them any attention did she speak. "You must keep this a secret,"

"Do you even need to ask?" Ron said eagerly. "Come on, Hermione, tell us what's going on!"

Perhaps it was the genuine worry evident in her friends' expressions that gave Hermione a modicum of courage. Her shoulders relaxed slightly, though her grip on the bag remained firm. She cast another furtive glance towards Colin Creevey and his younger brother Dennis, who were huddled over a magical camera nearby, before motioning for Harry and Ron to come even closer.

"What are you up to?" Ron grumbled, reluctantly abandoning the comfortable embrace of the sofa. He and Harry pushed the heavy oak coffee table back a few inches. They perched on its edge, effectively creating a barrier between Hermione and any potentially prying eyes in the common room.

"Remember to keep your mouth shut, Ron!" Hermione hissed, her tone carrying a warning that made Ron's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Finally, with agonizing slowness, she loosened her death grip on the school bag she had been clutching so tightly. The sound of the zipper opening seemed unnaturally loud in the tense silence that had fallen over the trio.

Harry was holding his breath, half-expecting Hermione to reveal that she had actually broken into a professor's office and stolen something. After all, it wouldn't be the first time. But as the zipper parted, revealing the contents of the bag, Harry's eyes widened in shock. A small, timid head peeked out from the gap, its large, tennis-ball-sized eyes blinking owlishly in the dim light of the common room. Harry felt his breath catch in his throat, his entire face freezing in an expression of utter disbelief.

"My God, are you cra—" Ron's exclamation of surprise was abruptly cut short as Hermione's hand shot out, quickly pushing the little creature's head back into the bag. Her eyes flashed dangerously as she hissed, "Shut your mouth, Weasley!" She then shot a warning glance at Neville who had looked up from his textbook, curiosity piqued by the commotion. Frightened by Hermione's fierce gaze, Neville quickly lowered his head, pretending with all his might that he hadn't seen or heard a thing.

"Have you gone mad, Hermione?" Ron's voice had dropped to a barely audible whisper, but the intensity of his shock was evident in every syllable. His eyes were fixed on the bag Hermione was once again hugging protectively to her chest. "Even if you want to stand up for these house-elves, you didn't need to adopt one! They're not owls or toads, for Merlin's sake!"

"Thank you for the reminder, Weasley!" Hermione's tone could have frozen the Black Lake solid. The icy sarcasm in her voice made Ron visibly recoil.

Harry, his mind racing to make sense of the situation, couldn't help but ask the question that was burning in his thoughts. "Where did you get it from?" he whispered urgently.

A wild thought occurred to him, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "Did you sneak into the Hog's Head and win it from a stranger in some bizarre magical bet?"

The reference to their first year at Hogwarts hung in the air between them. They all remembered all too well how Hagrid had been tricked by Quirrell, who was possessed by Voldemort. Quirrell had used a dragon egg and a few well-placed drinks to loosen Hagrid's tongue, coaxing out the secret of how to get past the three-headed dog guarding the Philosopher's Stone.

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry," Hermione said, her irritation evident in the set of her jaw and the furrow of her brow. "Nobody sells house-elves like they're trinkets in a shop!" She took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself. "Can you both just be quiet for a moment? I'm about to explain everything, and I'd rather not have to repeat myself."

"We're all ears!" Ron said quickly, his curiosity clearly overriding any lingering fear of Hermione's wrath. He leaned in even closer, nearly toppling off the edge of the coffee table in his eagerness to hear the story.

"But what if—" Harry began hesitantly, trying to find a diplomatic way to voice his concerns. "What if the house-elf called Reega doesn't want her child back? Then what would we do?"

Even as he spoke, Harry knew his words were a gross understatement of the situation. Ron, for all his lack of tact, was right about one thing: you can't treat house-elves like wizards. If this was the way elf parents and children interacted, Hermione probably couldn't change it.

Hermione bit her lip and said nothing. From her reaction, Harry believed she was well aware of this issue. Although it was indeed hard to accept that a mother would willingly reject her newborn child, and that the child would in turn ignore its birth mother and chose a stranger who had only given it a piece of clothing as its master.

Although his parents had died at Voldemort's hands when he was very young, Harry at least knew that his parents loved him and were willing to sacrifice their lives for him.

"I can't allow Fréodom to simply go to the kitchen and join the ranks of the working house-elves—" Hermione's voice cut through the heavy silence, her tone resolute and filled with determination. "At the very least, I need to teach it to fight for its own rights, to understand that it deserves better than a life of servitude!"

"Oh, brilliant—" Ron's sarcastic clap echoed in the quiet room. "So, you're planning to keep it in the dormitory, are you? I bet by tomorrow at lunchtime, the entire Hogwarts will know you're hiding a house-elf in your dorm. What do you reckon Professor McGonagall will have to say about that?"

Ron's words struck at the heart of the practical issues surrounding Hermione's impulsive rescue. Despite her remarkable intelligence and usually meticulous planning, even Hermione couldn't deny the impossibility of keeping a house-elf hidden in the crowded Gryffindor tower.

Professor McGonagall, with her strict adherence to rules and her no-nonsense attitude, would never allow such a blatant violation of school regulations. Moreover, Parvati and Lavender, Hermione's chatty roommates, were unlikely to keep such a juicy secret to themselves. This was a house-elf, not a bug living in the wall cracks. There was no way they wouldn't notice, and she had no right to keep a talking house-elf in their shared dormitory.

A heavy silence fell over the trio once more. Hermione stared at her bag, her teeth worrying her lower lip until a bead of blood appeared. Seeing her upset like this, Ron's lips quivered a few times, and he stopped his taunting.

Harry didn't feel good either. Although he couldn't understand why Hermione was so adamant about helping the house-elves, Hermione was his good friend. They had faced countless challenges together over the years, and Harry knew without a doubt that he wouldn't have survived many of those ordeals without Hermione's help. She had always been the smartest among the three of them, always having ideas when they encountered problems. Seeing her look so helpless and cornered made Harry's heart ache with the desire to help.

"Let's go!" Harry's sudden declaration shattered the gloomy atmosphere that had settled over them. With a burst of energy, he quickly gathered up the half-written PE class essay on the table stuffed it into his bag, and then pulled out his invisibility cloak.

"Where to?" Hermione stared at the invisibility cloak in Harry's hand for a moment, then looked into Harry's green eyes.

"We're going to ask Hagrid for help—" Harry said, his voice filled with a sudden burst of determination. "Hagrid always used to secretly keep all sorts of magical creatures in the castle when he was a student. He's got loads of experience with this kind of thing. Maybe he can give you some advice on how to handle this situation."

"Hurry up," Harry urged, already moving towards the portrait hole. "We've got Potions first thing tomorrow morning, and you know Snape would love nothing more than for us to be late. He's probably dreaming up point deductions for Gryffindor as we speak."

With that, Harry grasped Hermione's arm gently but firmly, guiding her towards the exit.

"Great—" Ron shrugged helplessly again and followed them. "That's exactly why he was expelled."

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