As the css came to an end, students began to file out, their chatter fading into the corridor. Hermione lingered, shoulders squared, her fingers idly toying with the edge of her sleeve. She wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from this conversation, but she had a feeling it wouldn’t just be about csswork. Her friends exchanged brief gnces before excusing themselves, understanding that this was a private discussion. Without protest, they moved into the corridor, leaving her alone with McGonagall.

  Professor McGonagall got up from her desk and beckoned her to follow towards the door to the back of the cssroom just up a narrow set of stairs. The solid oak door opened, revealing a space that was strikingly different from the rigid atmosphere of the cssroom beyond. It was not cold, nor was it overly formal—it was lived-in, rich with quiet warmth and history.

  If Hermione had to describe it in a word, it would be warm.

  The walls were adorned with old photos of what she presume was friends and colleagues, some of which were clearly old based on the content and world events pictured in the back, one of which was the Berlin Wall coming down, along with their fading edges.

  A towering bookshelf stretched across the left side of the room, filled with an assortment of books in nguages Hermione couldn't identify with a quick gnce, however it was evident they were well read as the spines were showing considerable wear and tear. But none of this was what grabbed Hermione's attention.

  Above the firepce, a rge Gryffindor banner hung proudly, its golden lion shimmering faintly in the firelight. Below it, a series of Quidditch team photographs were arranged neatly in succession, spanning decades. Some were team shots of past Gryffindor squads, while others were single captures of pyers mid-game, robes billowing as they soared through the air.

  One stood out—an older image of a young Minerva McGonagall, cd in Gryffindor Quidditch robes, her expression one of intense focus as she executed a seamless dive to intercept the Quaffle. The enchanted photo repyed the moment in a smooth, endless loop, her broom tilting sharply before she leveled out with effortless precision.

  A well-worn broomstick rested against the far wall—polished, but aged, the kind one kept out of nostalgia rather than function. Below it, a small, wooden dispy case held a collection of Quaffles and Bludgers, each scuffed and dented from past matches, a testament to her long-standing love for the game.

  Hermione took it all in as she moved through the room, she was a little surprised to see such a stark difference between McGonnagall the Educator and McGonnagall the person, it was easy to forget teachers were people with lives outside of the school as well.

  Hermione took the seat across from McGonnagall meeting her gaze.

  ____

  By the time Hermione left the cssroom and rejoined her friends in the hall, Daphne wasted no time in bombarding her with questions. Ever since their breakfast conversation—the one where Hermione had befriended Luna—Daphne had become almost unrecognizable from the poised, reserved Ice Queen she had once been.

  "Come on, Mia, tell us what happened!" Daphne was practically bouncing, her usual cold exterior nowhere to be seen. Had simply having a true friend changed her that much? Had it always been there, hidden beneath yers of Slytherin politics?

  Hermione nudged Daphne with her shoulder, smirking. "Oh, you know—just the usual. Schoolwork, existential crises, rewriting the sylbus."

  "Oh really? Do tell" Bise asked with an amused expression, he'd realised Hermione wasn't joking.

  "Oh nothing much, she just tested my abilities, I don't think she was expecting me to be able conjure a chair." with an air of dismissal.

  Bise arched a brow, his amusement only growing. “You conjured a chair?”

  Theo let out a low whistle. “That’s—well, that’s insane, actually. How are you still standing?"

  Daphne frowned slightly. ““Please. After the spell she used on the troll, we felt the magic rolling off her when she was twelve.” Daphne’s voice was sharp, assessing. “Now she’s thirteen—the first magical majority after core stabilization at eleven. That alone would mean an increase in power."

  Daphne folded her arms, her gaze sharp. “And after the Yule Holidays? Your power skyrocketed.”

  Hermione understood the subtext, Daphne was asking how. She couldn't tell them entirely but she could maybe share a little. "I came into my family magic this Solstice," Hermione admitted. "That’s what I meant when I said I was tested—you’ve seen the results." she paused "Ordinarily, family magic isn’t accessible until you reach majority. But… well, let’s just say my circumstances are a little different."

  Daphne hummed to herself whilst Bise and Theo looked uncomfortable, family matters, especially in noble families was a taboo subject, you didn't poke your nose into those without just cause.

  Hermione not wanting to continue with this line of questioning because it was getting more and more difficult to subvert them getting the answers without lying to them and as that was no longer an option she need an alternative. "Regardless, I have some things I'll need to be working on so I'll need to excuse myself to the library." Hoping they'd take the bait and assume it was reted to her conversation with Professor McGonnagall, it wasn't but they didn't need to know that.

  Daphne arched a brow, her sharp gaze lingering on Hermione. She wasn’t fooled, not entirely. “The library?” she repeated, skeptical.

  Bise smirked. “Of course. Where else would you run off to after casually upending McGonagall’s expectations?”

  Theo, who had been silent for a moment, finally leaned back against the cool stone wall, arms crossing loosely. “You’re being deliberately vague, Mia.” His tone wasn’t accusing, just observant.

  Hermione gave him a ft, unimpressed look. “Isn’t that what you all do on a daily basis?”

  Daphne snorted. “Fair point.”

  That seemed to settle them, at least for now. They weren’t going to push—not yet—but Hermione knew they would be watching her even more closely now.

  She adjusted the strap of her satchel, giving them a wry smile. “Try not to get into too much trouble without me.”

  Theo smirked. “We make no promises.”

  Daphne flicked her wrist dismissively. “Go, go. Do your mysterious research.” She gave Hermione one st assessing gnce before adding, “Just don’t let it consume you.”

  Hermione paused for a fraction of a second, then inclined her head. “Noted.”

  She turned, making her way toward the library, relieved to have successfully redirected their curiosity—for now.

  Because what she was actually looking into wasn’t something she was ready to share.

  The walk to the library was quieter than usual, her mind already shifting gears from deflection to investigation. She could still feel the weight of Daphne’s gaze lingering in her thoughts—intelligent, observant, and just skeptical enough to be dangerous.

  Hermione wasn’t lying when she said she had things to work on, but it had nothing to do with McGonagall’s assessment.

  She stepped into the library, greeted by the familiar scent of parchment and ink, the warm glow of nterns casting soft shadows across the rows of towering bookshelves. Madam Pince sat behind her desk, barely gncing up as Hermione made her way to the farthest corner of the library—a section rarely visited at this time of day.

  She reached into her satchel, fingering the velvet pouch that held her engraved gemstones. She’d shown them to McGonagall, yes, but that had been a distraction, a calcuted move to direct curiosity elsewhere. What she needed now was something deeper.

  Slipping into a secluded table near the Restricted Section, Hermione pulled out a different notebook—the one not meant for Hogwarts coursework, but for deciphering what Perenelle had given her.

  Some of these notes referred to channeling the energies around her, she had already managed to channel her own magical core to power enchantments, it was the cornerstone of her training after her the Τ?σσαρα ?τη δοκιμασ?α? τ?? μαγε?α? ritual. However, after the Winter Solstice incident, draining her magic had become noticeably more difficult. Her core had expanded aggressively, which would have made fine control more difficult if her core hadn't changed and brought her magic closer to the surface. She had read that the best way to promote growth and strengthening of a magical core was through trials, and she had gone through one, specifically, the goblet of fire.

  She cast her mind back to Dumbledore’s carefully structured obstacles in first year—the gauntlet leading to the Philosopher’s Stone. Had it all been a trial? A way to strengthen Harry’s core through structured adversity rather than a simple security measure?

  She had assumed—incorrectly, she now realized—that Dumbledore had been preparing Harry to face Voldemort. But… what if Dumbledore hadn’t known Quirrell was working for him? What if the challenge had been meant to be risky, but survivable—a controlled trial with safeguards?

  And if that were true… then how had he expected Harry to survive if the real Dark Lord had been waiting at the end? You don't forge a weapon and then shatter it, this hinted at there being some fail safe that existed to protect harry. But this suggested something darker. Had Dumbledore known about Harry’s abuse? Had he seen it as just another trial—one that would make his magic stronger? She considered whether this was the case or not, it felt unlikely from what she understood from from magical theory, you couldn't start training a core until you were 11.

  No… she didn’t actually believe Dumbledore knew about the abuse. Her interactions with him never suggested malice—callousness, perhaps, in his relentless pursuit of the greater good, but cruelty? No.

  She shook herself from her thoughts, she had much to do this year and she was loosing track of what needed to be done. She took out her blood bound journal, she need a name for this. Her family didn't have a Grimoire, which would raise some questions regarding her calling things 'Family Magic' but this journal, held all those details, and it had the necessary security features with it being blood magic bound to her family/self that she could consider it one. It held her secrets, her pns and her research including the spells she had made, but it wasn't in any order one would expect for a typical spell book, so did it fit the term grimoire? No but it fit the term book of shadows better. The Journal: Book 1 wasn't a terrible name, it didn't make it's content known to the casual observer but would let her keep them in series.

  She could always address it ter, but these would form the chronicles of her pursuit of knowledge and the foundation for her family grimoire at a ter date so it was important. For now however she had something that had been gnawing at the back of her mind. She knew how to make enchantments, she knew how to drain her own magical power into the gems, she knew the magic could be released and repurposed, but how did she want to approach this? Her fight with the Fae had been a stark revetion, that whilst her repertoire of magic was good, she cked the power to make them do the kind of damage she needed against strong opponents without draining her core in a matter of minutes, even with the reserves avaible to her now, she wouldn't have been able to go for longer than 20 or vs the Fae compared to the barely 3 she managed prior, however even that had a caveat, the reserves she was now linked to would take time to recharge so it was basically an Oh Shit Button, not something to be relied upon in repeated encounters.

  So, she could make her enchantments use the magical energy within them to either fuel her spells to act as a reserve of some kind, or give them specific functions. The pro's of using them like batteries meant she could use the magic for basically anything she so wished, this gave her more stopping power and stamina in fights, which was important, but what benefits did giving them gems specific functions do? Well, reaction speed was a big one, no matter how much she trained, she would never be able to react faster than a ward scheme, no one could, so if she engineered a specific defence vs a threat into the gems and used the stored power for that, she wouldn't need to worry about in combat, it could remove a variable for her and remove the inherent risk of human error.

  What had intrigued her however, was the crystal ttice make up inside the cave, the efficiency in it's storage vs regur gemstones was worlds apart, she considered why that was. Diamonds made alot of sense, as she knew that they could be used as a battery, whist it wasn't as efficient at power output, it could hold power for longer periods by encapsuting Carbon-14, otherwise known as radiocarbon, a radioactive isotope with exceptionally long half lives, around 5700 years if her memory was correct. The diamond itself also acts as an Insutor to prevent radiation leakage, not that Carbon-14 was particurly dangerous due to the low level beta radiation waves which were blocked by Human Skin.

  The crystal ttice however wasn't diamond, so it appeared to be a man-made crystals, presumably with the impurities removes. The impurities would disrupt the flow of energy held within them, this was why she could feel the magic radiating from her gemstones she used for enchanting, she had initially thought that her enchantments were the issue or even her technique for etching runes, and whilst they were not perfect, they didn't account for the loss of energy. Her research had come to the conclusion that the poor quality gemstones she was using as learning materials were the primary cause for the instability, her blood had acted as binding agent due to how magic interacted with organic life, but with good quality crystals, preferably man made, this wouldn't be an issue.

  So, her options for improvement, were spending an inordinate amount of money on crystals and diamonds, or going into the muggle world and getting synthetic diamonds, even b made diamonds were expensive, perhaps not as bad as real diamonds were, but they were nonetheless, out of her price range. So she was without options? No. She realised that if she wanted such materials she either needed to find them or find the funds somewhere and she knew of an untapped resource at her disposal. The room of lost things. A treasury of forgotten objects, hoarded over centuries. A pce where magic pooled and lingered. A pce where, among its many treasures, y something that could solve more than one problem.

  The Diadem.