Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality

"Is there any way I can keep up with Harry?" said Hermione. "I mean, I'm not saying it's what I'll do, but - if he needs friends then can we be equal friends? Can I be a hero too?"

"Ah," said the old wizard, and smiled. "Only you can decide that, Miss Granger."

"But you're not going to help me like you're helping Harry."

The old wizard shook his head. "I have helped him little enough, Miss Granger. And if you are asking me for a quest -" The old wizard smiled again, rather wryly. "Miss Granger, you are in your first year of Hogwarts. Do not be too eager to grow up; there will be time enough for that later."

"I'm twelve. Harry's eleven."

"Harry Potter is special," said the old wizard. "As you know, Miss Granger." The blue eyes were suddenly piercing beneath the half-moon glasses, and she was reminded of the day of the Dementor when Dumbledore's voice had said, inside her mind, that he knew about Harry's dark side.

Hermione put up her hand and touched Professor McGonagall's hand, which had stayed strong on her shoulder this whole time, and Hermione said, she was surprised that her voice didn't break, "I'd like to go, now, please."

"Of course," said Professor McGonagall, and Hermione felt the hand on her shoulder gently turning her around to face the oaken door.

"Have you chosen your path yet, Hermione Granger?" said Albus Dumbledore's voice from behind her, even as the door slowly creaked open to reveal the Enchantment of the Endless Stair.

She nodded.

"And?"

"I'll," she said, her voice stuck, "I'll, I'll -"

She swallowed.

"I'll do - what's right -"

She didn't say anything else, she couldn't, and then the Endless Stair began revolving around her once again.

Neither she nor Professor McGonagall spoke on the way down.

When the Flowing Stone gargoyles stepped out of their way, and the two of them stepped out into the corridors of Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall finally spoke, and she said in a whisper, "I'm so terribly sorry, Miss Granger. I did not think the Headmaster would say such things to you. I think he truly has forgotten what it is like to be a child."

Hermione glanced back up to her and saw that Professor McGonagall looked like she was about to burst into tears... only not really, but there was a tightness in her face that was like that.

"If I want to be a hero too," said Hermione, "if I've decided to be a hero too, is there anything you can do to help?"

Professor McGonagall rapidly shook her head, and said, "Miss Granger, I'm not sure the Headmaster is wrong about that. You are twelve."

"Okay," said Hermione.

They walked forward a bit.

"Excuse me," said Hermione, "is it okay if I walk back to the Ravenclaw tower by myself? I'm sorry, it's not your fault or anything, I just want to be by myself right now."

"Of course, Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall, her voice sounding a little hoarse, and Hermione heard her footsteps stop, and then turn around behind her.

Hermione Granger walked away.

She climbed a flight of stairs, and then another, wondering if there was anyone else in Hogwarts who would give her a chance to be a hero. Professor Flitwick would say the same thing as Professor McGonagall, and even if he didn't, he probably couldn't help, Hermione didn't know who could help. Well, Professor Quirrell would come up with something clever if she used up enough Quirrell points, but she had a feeling that asking him would be a bad idea - that the Defense Professor couldn't help anyone become the sort of hero that was worth becoming, and that he wouldn't even understand the difference.

She had almost gotten to the Ravenclaw tower when she saw the flash of gold.

Chapter 69: Self Actualization, Pt 4

It was out of the corner of her eye that Hermione Granger saw it, a reflection on the polished metal of a statue at the junction of two corridors, a flash of gold, a flash of red, something like an image of fire; just for a moment she saw it, and then it was gone.

She paused, puzzled, and she almost walked away, but there had been something familiar about that brief glow -

Hermione walked forward to where the statue had stood, looked at the corridor from which she thought the fiery reflection might have come.

Faintly, as though from a faraway place, she heard the cry, the call.

Hermione started to run.

She ran for a while; whenever she got to a junction she would pause, catch as much breath as she could, and then she would see a flash of fire reflected from one direction or another, or hear that distant call. If it hadn't been for her army training she would've fallen over in exhaustion, running like that.

She never saw the phoenix.

And then she came to a four-way branch and there was nothing, no sign, she waited for long seconds and she heard no cry and saw no fire, and she was only just starting to wonder with a sick sad feeling if she'd imagined the whole thing, when she heard a person cry out.