Back at Midnight and Getting Caught by the Dorm Matron
"No!"
Hermione shook her head frantically, her expression bordering on terror.
"Ah, I understand. That's why I only mentioned it," Morin said with a smile. "An extra hundred points would be hard to explain. Even if I wanted to give them, I doubt you'd accept. And you did technically break school rules."
He paused briefly.
"So how about this. Tonight, nothing happened. What do you think, Hermione?"
"I think that sounds wonderful!" Hermione nodded again and again.
"Of course, it would be a shame to leave it at that," Morin continued. "Mr. Potter also broke the rules, but performed brilliantly, and Professor McGonagall rewarded him with a Nimbus 2000. I can't exactly pretend I didn't see anything at all."
He thought for a moment.
"I could apply for you to skip your exams and move directly into the second-year curriculum. How does that sound?"
"Of course-" Hermione blurted out, then froze mid-sentence. "But... wouldn't people ask questions?"
"Mm. That's true," Morin nodded. "Harry can get away with being unusual. People expect it. But with you, they'd start digging."
He looked at her.
"In that case, if you ever run into problems, you can come to me anytime."
Morin led Hermione up the stairs, naturally seeing her back to the Gryffindor common room.
"I imagine you'll face plenty of questions in your studies," he said casually. "To be honest, Professor Quirrell may be powerful, but he's not exactly a qualified teacher."
He glanced at her.
"You understand what I mean?"
"Mhm..." Hermione nodded cautiously.
She agreed completely.
"He probably won't be teaching for much longer anyway. A month or two, at most," Morin continued. "As for the new professor... very skilled, but his teaching methods might have some... issues."
He stopped himself before saying brainwashing.
"Either way, if you have questions, my door is always open. No password. Just walk in."
"O-okay..." Hermione nodded quickly.
She hesitated, then spoke softly. "Professor... earlier, when you dealt with that dog... you didn't use a wand or say an incantation."
"Wandless magic and non-verbal casting," Morin replied. "Advanced techniques. For students at your level-"
He stopped.
"Shh."
Footsteps echoed in the distance, accompanied by a familiar voice.
"I heard that! Talking so loudly... those wretched, miserable-"
Hermione's blood ran cold.
Filch.
Argus Filch.
Hogwarts' caretaker.
A Squib born to a wizarding family, bitter and resentful. His greatest joy was catching students breaking rules. Polished shackles hung in his office, waiting for the day he might finally be allowed to use them.
"Can I hide?" Hermione whispered, looking up at Morin.
"Shh. You're safe," Morin said quietly, giving her a gentle look.
Hermione's face flushed bright red.
Morin immediately straightened and turned his attention to the corner Filch was about to round.
If this were an adult Hermione, he wouldn't mind.
But she was still a child.
The Censorship Beast was already watching.
"P-Professor?" Filch's twisted grin froze as he stepped into view, lantern in hand. He clearly hadn't expected to see Morin.
"Good evening, Mr. Filch," Morin said calmly. "I heard some strange noises."
"Students!" Filch's eyes lit up. "Where? Tell me, and I'll catch them this time!"
"Students?" Morin echoed mildly. "Why are you so certain?"
"Well-because I overheard them whispering," Filch said eagerly. "Someone's planning to sneak into the Trophy Room at midnight."
"The noise I heard came from near the Charms classroom," Morin said thoughtfully. "You might want to check there."
He added, "Though... it could be a prank."
Filch's face darkened.
"Maybe. But if it is..." He gripped his lantern. "Thank you for the information."
"I won't keep you," Morin nodded.
He resumed walking.
Hermione didn't dare breathe.
Filch and his cat passed right by her.
As if she didn't exist at all.
Only after they had climbed toward the eighth floor did Hermione whisper excitedly, "Was that a wandless, non-verbal Disillusionment Charm?"
"Yes," Morin nodded. "Just some minor magic. I can teach you, if you're interested."
He glanced at her.
"Not tonight. You should rest."
"Professor..." Hermione asked softly. "Aren't you going to ask why I was there?"
"I have my guesses," Morin said calmly. "Since you don't want to say, I don't need to ask."
He smiled faintly.
"Besides, it's a secret that's about to remain a secret. Isn't it?"
He paused, then added lightly, "Right now, I think the stairs under our feet matter more. Or perhaps I should give you a magical photo of myself as a gift?"
"I-I-" Hermione lowered her head instantly, her face burning red.
"Haha. Just a joke," Morin said. "Honestly, it bothers me sometimes. People focus more on my looks than my abilities."
He shrugged.
"Still, it makes for decent cover."
Hermione said nothing.
Thankfully, they soon reached the portrait guarding the Gryffindor common room.
The Fat Lady had returned.
She looked between Morin and the blushing Hermione.
"Professor Morin?" she asked. "What is the meaning of this?"
What do you do when the dorm matron catches you escorting a girl back at midnight?
Asking for a friend.
Urgent.
"A minor issue," Morin said smoothly. "She left something important behind and was in a hurry to retrieve it. I happened to run into her."
He smiled.
"I don't believe punishment is necessary. She's an exemplary student. Please open the door."
He paused.
"The password is... Hermione?"
"Ah-oh!" Hermione snapped out of it. "Pig snout! Pig snout!"
The portrait swung open.
"You're a very kind professor," the Fat Lady said approvingly. "If this were Professor McGonagall, the poor girl would be miserable for days."
"Just doing my part," Morin said, patting Hermione's head lightly.
"You can go in now. Good night."
"G-good night, Professor Morin," Hermione whispered, fleeing inside.
"I'll take my leave," Morin nodded to the Fat Lady and turned away.
He had originally intended to check the Trophy Room to see whether Harry had shown up for the duel.
Instead, he had found Hermione.
And discovered a genuinely brilliant student.
He had thought she was just an overachieving bookworm.
Now he knew better.
Practical combat ability.
Sharp instincts.
Looks, brains, and brawn?
Morin fell into thought.
If that was the case...
What were Harry and Ron there for?
To make up the numbers?
Well.
At least after his special training, Harry finally had skills worthy of his name.
"The magic on that door was never meant to be opened with a simple Alohomora," Dumbledore said, frowning. "Has someone already been inside?"
"I don't know," Morin replied. "I followed Miss Granger and saw her open it with a single spell. She nearly got bitten by the three-headed dog."
As he spoke, he pulled out a strip of meat and walked over to Fawkes.
The phoenix showed no resistance.
Definitely not because the meat was too good.
Regardless, he accepted it eagerly.
"If everything is as you say," Dumbledore said slowly, "then even I could not have done better at her age."
He paused.
"She is... reckless."
"Why else would she be in Gryffindor?" Morin laughed. "Little lions are all like that. Even if her mind belongs in Ravenclaw."
"The Sorting Hat is rarely wrong," Dumbledore said. "How do you intend to handle this?"
"I asked her," Morin said, producing another strip of meat.
Fawkes swallowed hastily and snapped it up.
"She doesn't want anyone to know. So I won't tell Professor McGonagall. No punishment."
He added calmly, "Which means no official reward either."
Morin seemed to enjoy feeding Fawkes, even taking the chance to ruffle his feathers.
Fawkes wanted to resist.
But the meat was too good.
Dumbledore: "..."
Ignoring the scene, Dumbledore adjusted his slightly crooked hat.
"No reward?"
"That's right," Morin nodded. "I told her she can come to me anytime for guidance. On magic... or anything else."
He produced another strip.
"There's no better reward for someone like her," Dumbledore agreed. "Especially with her diligence and talent."
He grew serious.
"I'll investigate further. Someone has infiltrated Hogwarts."
"Who else would want the Sorcerer's Stone and escape Gringotts unscathed?" Morin said, finishing the feeding and sitting down.
"I think you already suspect who it is."
"I do," Dumbledore nodded. "But acting rashly would cause panic. I intend to wait until he reveals himself."
"Heh. As long as you have a plan," Morin smirked. "Though sometimes, things don't go as planned."
"You sound like you know something," Dumbledore said suspiciously.
"Just enjoy the show," Morin replied. "What about Mr. Grindelwald?"
"He's searching for wand materials," Dumbledore said. "Rare ones. He has to do it himself."
He paused.
"Do you truly intend to make him a wand?"
"Why not?" Morin replied. "A wand is the key to starting a revolution. But for it to matter, it needs a heavyweight to endorse it."
He leaned back.
"First it was Harry. Then you. Then Gellert. For people of your influence, the more, the better."
"A fair point," Dumbledore said. "We'll prepare."
He hesitated.
"Recently, some parents have received complaints from their children about you. Minister Fudge has written several times. Someone is pushing this."
"It doesn't matter who," Morin said calmly. "It's part of the process. No matter how it ends, it benefits us."
He smiled.
"There's an old saying back home. Send generals to meet soldiers. Use earth to block the flood."
"Let it simmer."
"Once Mr. Grindelwald's duel with Professor Quirrell ends, it'll be time."
"You don't object?" Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.
"Quirrell may be capable, but his teaching is unacceptable," Morin said plainly. "It's irresponsible."
He added casually, "Besides... aren't you curious what Gellert's teaching would look like?"
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