A yearning for strength born from a wounded ego

"My god! Such a powerful Magician existed? Wouldn't he be able to crush any wizard in history? Imagine meeting him, What do you think he looks like?" Seamus said with a look of awe and worship.

Dean cupped his chin momentarily, "I also read a bit about it. Although his appearance is often different between religions, they say that his helmet emits a stream of light in the shape of feathers, his eyes so piercing that none dare look directly. He is said to have black hair and beard. That's all there is in the books prescribed to us."

Seamus frowned, "damn, such lousy recordings," he grumbled.

I shook my head, "the books we were given are rudimentary. If we want more information, there might be some in the library."

Seamus and Ron instantly lit up with bright smiles, "right-right, let's go take a look as soon as we have free time, lads!" Seamus said excitedly. I looked on in horror, Ron, Seamus and Harry arranging a time to read books?! In the library?! In their free time?! Were pigs going to start flying?

There was a brief period of silence where everyone moved off to do their own thing. Seamus and Ron were discussing quidditch, Dean was reading a book on potions, one of the many prescribed shamelessly by Professor Snape. I mean, there were more than five of them!

Harry was eating sweets with the massive amounts of wealth he brought with him while the Patil twins played chess on a transfigured table I made for them.

"Hermione…" a subdued voice called out, drawing my attention. It was Harry, who had a hesitant expression as he nibbled on his candy. "What is it?" I asked curiously.

A myriad of emotions surfaced on his face, from thoughtful, meekness, shyness and finally, determination. It was odd; what could make him go through so many? He looked up at me seriously, his action not going unnoticed by the rest of the group.

"Last year, up against… you-know-who, Tom was fearless. He faced Quirrell with ease, his movements smooth and sharp, his choice of spells being perfect for the occasion… what I'm getting at is- I- I want to ask if you can teach me. I'm sure you know just as much as he does considering the amount of time you two spend together."

I was silent for a moment as I continued to stare at him. Tom had recounted the events of that night to me for training purposes. With his perfect memory, he impersonated Quirrell for my benefit. I had to admit; I lost a couple of times while simultaneously wondering how he was able to stay so calm. After all, there was still one big difference. That being that Tom wasn't trying to kill me during our duel.

"Why?" I asked, curious about his reasons. Although I already knew the gist of it based on Harry's response at the hospital last year, I wondered if it still lingered or if it was another reason.

Harry grabbed his knee tightly as a frown twisted its way onto his face, "I remember the feeling it gave me- the one at that moment, that is. Useless- I felt useless as I watched Tom save me. I couldn't do a thing to help. It was so pathetic-"

"Harry, that's not your fau-" Ron interjected, yet he was interrupted by Harry, who raised his hand. His head drooped down to his chest, staring at his knees.

"Yes, it is. If I was stronger- even half as capable as Tom, I would have been able to provide assistance. Instead… instead, I fainted." Anger surged in his tone as he finished, his fingers digging into his knees as the material of his trousers began to twist.

He once again looked up at me. I could feel the intensity of his gaze, as if wanting to bore a hole through me to reach the couch. Moved by his words, I nodded slowly, "very well, I do know the same amount of things as Tom. We trained together so I could use the methods he used to teach you. I'm warning you though, this isn't easy- like- at all. You will feel pain. You will want to give up. If you don't steel your resolve, you will not make it through," I said seriously.

I wasn't talking out of my ass; this came from experience. On many occasions, I wanted to give up, to just stay in bed, or read a book instead, but like a devil in my ear, Tom's words managed to do what I myself thought impossible. I clenched my fist, feeling the boundless strength coursing through them, something I could have never foreseen.

"It can't be that bad, Hermione, don't try to scare Harry away!" Ron said with a slightly pale face. I silently chuckled, Ron was the lazy type, so hard work would certainly scare him. But I simply shrugged, "you don't have to believe me."

"I'm willing to try, I just don't want to feel so powerless again." Harry's words drew the attention of everyone back unto himself. I nodded in understanding, "if that is your choice, then, ok."

The way I saw it, Harry was someone who had a knack for getting into trouble. If this helped in defending himself effectively, then that would give me some peace of mind. I then looked at Ron; If I could rope him into following his dear friend, I could torture him at my leisure.

'Ah! Why does that sound like something Tom would say?' I thought before looking out the window.

'…I wonder what you're doing right now.'