9 Hugs, disrespect and Death

"Parseltongue"

"Normal talk"

'Thoughts'

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"Yep... He started by spewing a bunch of lies about me, probably hoping to start some other unpleasant rumour. That wasn't the worst of it though… As he moved towards the great hall with Seamus and Dean, he filled them in, on his — oh-so-great idea! Do you want me to tell you his exact words or not?" he inquired heatedly, darkening Hermione's expression.

"Word by word," she whispered and not because she was in the library.

'What have you done Ron…' she brooded.

"I've got an excellent idea. When Potter comes to the dormitory tonight, we'll ambush him, cast a few spells and make him understand that even if his life's ambition is to get more famous, he can't go hogging it from good guys like us," he said, doing a quite good Ron impression.

"That's what Ron said to the two dumbasses, and they both agreed. They looked at him as if he enlightened them with some great philosophy about life… They were fucking ecssstatic Mione," he commented furiously, almost slipping to parseltongue in the end.

Hermione didn't seem to notice though, as she closed their distance yet again and hugged Harry.

It wasn't her signature bone-breaking hug. It was gentle yet firm, communicating a sense of security and reassurance.

"I'm so sorry Harry. I didn't know that Ron said such vile things behind your back… He never bad-mouthed you in front of me," she told him, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Ron is a damn wanker," she commented venomously.

She was angry, furious even toward their mutual friend. However, it was quickly drowned by the all-encompassing sadness that she felt for Harry.

"Language!" Harry scolded in mock exasperation, drawing a laugh from both of them.

She didn't get to respond as the figure of Madam Pince materialised from behind a bookshelf.

"It's nearing curfew and the library is about to close down for the night," the librarian notified them.

As the embarrassed teens untangled from their hug, Pince saw Hermione's tear stains on their clothes.

"You dare cry near my books?" she whispered threateningly.

'Is she serious right now?' Harry mused in disbelief as he turned around to look at Hermione.

Was it the fact that Hermione seemed about to cry again or was it the pent-up wrath that he didn't get to release because he was near his friend?

He wasn't sure.

He reached his pocket for his wand, noticing for the first time how lengthy the entire procedure was.

"Finite," he hissed the general counter spell, removing the sound barrier that Hermione had placed.

"Did you really fucking say that? I mean, really!?" he demanded, needing a surprising effort to stay in his mother language.

Before any of the females could react, he spoke again.

"As the librarian, you should know well by now how Hermione treats bookss. She'd sooner torture herself than willingly damage any of your bloody books," he asserted, prompting a gasp behind him.

Without waiting for a retort that he knew was coming, he utilised the librarian's shock by grabbing his friend and leaving.

Hermione finally stopped doing a fish-out-of-water imitation when they reached the portrait of the fat lady.

"Harry, you shouldn't have said those things," she scolded him.

'If there's a universe where Hermione does not think of teachers or authority figures as Christ's Apostles, I'll eat my firebolt,' he thought.

"Well, well. What's this? Naughty night adventures? Is our champion and his pretty little girlfriend coming inside or not?" asked a voice, making Hermione blush as she deduced who the said girlfriend was.

She turned around wanting to correct the fat lady but Harry grabbed her hands, making her face him.

"Ignore her, please. I have to tell you something," he announced, making Hermione's mind snap back to their conversation.

"Is it about Ron's so-called ambush? Don't worry, I'm sure that if we confront him together, he won't do anything. Actually, I'd like to see him try," she declared, causing Harry's lips to momentarily form a smirk.

"No. I mean yes? How do I explain this… Basically, I didn't sleep in the Gryffindor dormitories yesterday," he revealed, causing Hermione to gasp again. "What? Why? Is it because of Ron? Of course it's because of Ron! You know what, let's go inside so I can give him a piece of my mind!" she yapped, stopping only to catch her breath before continuing.

"Where did you sleep? Was it safe?" she demanded, ceasing her monologue only when she noticed Harry's expression.

He was smiling.

'I may have lost a best friend, but I've gained much more. Hermione's the best,' he thought.

"What's wrong with you? What's with the smile?" she mumbled embarrassed, her usual questioning fervour missing.

It wasn't every day that she was being looked at with such an innocent and radiant smile after all.

Luckily she wasn't aware of his thoughts, otherwise, her pink cheeks would have become redder than tomatoes.

"Nothing's wrong with me and please do try not to worry about me, at least not too much. Don't bother with Ron, just let him be… I promise he's not worth your effort. And the place I'm sleeping is safe. Hell, it's probably the safest place in Hogwarts," he said, trying to imitate Hermione's as-a-matter-of-fact tone.

She was going to protest, they both knew it.

Alas, Harry was quicker as he pulled her into another hug. There were a lot of those going around that day…

"Thank you for everything Hermione but it's past curfew… We'll talk tomorrow. I promise," he added, using her compliance for rules against her.

Harry left before she could answer.

'Damn, that's becoming a habit. It's not necessarily a bad one though,' he mused as he sped down the Hogwarts staircase while putting on his father's cloak.

Surprisingly, there was a road to the second floor waiting for him.

He swiftly reached Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom and made his way towards Salazar's secret chamber.

"Ahhh, you come back at lasst! I wasss starting to think that you've forgotten all about this great old man," greeted Salazar while pointing at himself.

"It was a long day," simply stated Harry and headed towards the nearest couch.

'Looks better the shabby bed I transfigured yesterday,' he mused while reaching down with his hand to check its softness.

He must have been content with it as he proceeded to sit down.

"Harry," sounded a hiss right before he felt a familiar sensation on his leg.

"Hello Asmodeuss. How's your day been," he yawned.

"Boring... The great ssspeaker drew weird diagramss all day and did not wish to sspeak with me," came the reply as Ash finally reached his destination, Harry's arm.

"And it paid off! I've concocted a whole new ritual jusst for you my heir," he announced excitedly, prompting Harry to turn his head in his direction.

"You've finished already?" he asked doubtfully.

He didn't know a thing a thing about rituals but he had the impression that they'd be harder to put together.

'What's all the fuss about rituals when a millennia-old geezer can make one of them in a single day?' he considered.

He didn't know that Salazar's casual show of skills couldn't be replicated by anyone alive. No one could even come close to the rituals the old Slytherin designed.

He was just that good.

"Of course I did. I don't want to boasst but I'm the finesst ritualisst that I know of," he claimed.

"Humble," Harry snarked.

As one might have expected, he didn't think much of Salazar's words.

'Are all parselmouths so boastful? Will I also become one when I grow older?' he thought with a shiver, envisioning his older self boasting about his Hogwarts adventures to his children.

'Your father was so great that he slayed a basilisk with a sword at a mere twelve years old. I didn't even use magic!' he'd say.

'Nope, nope! That won't be happening, not if I have a say about it,' he decided, purging the image away.

"Well, will you tell us what will it do?" he cheekily asked him, causing the founder to mumble about youths disrespecting their elders and Ash to hiss in excitement.

"Fine. I'll give you a very basic description so your Gryffindor brain can understand… The phoenix tears will be sacrificed to skyrocket your healing properties. You will be capable of mending any injury or ailment at an inhuman speed. I'm afraid even I can't say how fast it will be as I've not experimented with pure phoenix tears. You'll have to wait and see," he started, surprising Harry.

If he had any reservations about rituals before, those doubts were now tossed out of his mind.

'Just maybe having super healing would allow me to survive all the dangerous situations that I keep finding myself in,' he hoped.

"The basilisk venom that is known for its potent magical properties will be used to unlock any latent magical potential that you have. I can't tell the exact results for this one either," he added.

"Lastly, the Horcrux of the dark lord will be offered to Death. Since you are of my blood, the Peverell magic must be running through you. As such, Death will heed your sacrifice and offer you proper compensation. Needless to say, I cannot predict what that will be either," he finished.