Dark Lord Dumbledore - Volume 1 Chapter 46

Halloween had come and gone without incident, and Harry was a little surprised. He had thought for sure that Dumbledore would have set something in motion to ‘test’ what most Harry Potter fans mistakenly believed was his protg.

Quirrell had somehow got a full-grown troll through the Hogwarts protective wards and small doors undetected by Dumbledore. His ‘great’ performance even managed to ‘fool’ the most powerful wizard of the age into thinking it was a freak accident! Even his most loyal minion Snape reporting the ruse was not enough to persuade Dumbledore of any wrongdoing. He was just as surprised as everyone when Quirrell turned out to be Voldemort’s pawn!

And if you believe that, I have some prime real-estate on the Sun to sell you. It even comes with a fully automated air-conditioning system! Thanks to Harry erasing Quirinus Quirrell with fire, there was no B-Grade performance to interrupt the feast. But Ron had still managed to make a twelve-year-old girl lock herself in a toilet and cry for a few hours, enough to miss the Halloween feast that was attended by all.

It really spoke to how annoying the SJW trained Hermione was, when the entire student body, including the Prefects, her Head of House and the Headmaster ignored her absence. She could have been abducted, and no one would notice until the next class roll call. But at least her parents raised her as a strong independent woman that reports any transgression to authorities! She was undoubtedly independent crying alone in the bathroom. What a winner.

Harry didn’t really like Granger’s personality or her role in the book. He found her super whiny and judgy, ignorant for a supposedly genius that consistently researches, and very hypocritical. But that was with her parents, Dumbledore and Ron teaching her bad habits. With his training, she will be a capable minion to take control of whatever project he gives her while not pissing off everybody she meets. There would also be no marriage to Ron, the wizarding village idiot. That must have involved love potions for sure!

After excusing himself early from the feast, Harry made his way to the first portrait free area and checked the Maurader’s Map for Hermione’s location. Seeing she was still in the first-floor girls toilet, he made his way there to start his campaign of bringing her to the dark side. As he reached the bathroom entrance, he called one of his elves that arrived holding a tray of food. Trying not to come off as a pervert, he knocked on the door hoping she would be curious enough to leave her cubicle to investigate.

He didn’t want any rumours to start up about how he entered the girls toilets to peek, after all. Thankfully, after the forth exaggerated banging of the outer door of the girls toilet, it opened slightly to reveal a red-eyed, bushy-haired and buck-toothed girl that was in desperate need of a makeover. The movies didn’t accurately show just how much of an ugly duckly Hermione Granger really was before she became the beautiful swan.

“Y-yes?” Her timid voice sounded out.

It was so tempting to deliver a ‘Fatality’ to her vulnerable state just because Harry hated how she became in her later years. But that would be too cruel, even for him.

“I thought you might be hungry. I heard that you ran afoul of the red-headed fool and have been hiding out here. You shouldn’t pay so much attention to what someone who will probably fail out of Hogwarts by the third-year says.”

Seeing and smelling a tray full of delicious food, Hermione couldn’t help but swallow some saliva. She had been here for a while and was rather hungry.

“Come on, there is an empty classroom just down the hall. The toilet is no place to eat food.” Harry continued, baiting her out of the toilet with food just like you would a wild animal.

Twenty minutes later, an embarrassed yet full Hermione glanced at Harry and asked the question she should have asked before accepting food from a stranger.

“Why are you being nice to me? We have not even really spoken before.” She enquired.

“I know what it is like to be set upon by Ron ‘the intolerant’ Weasley and have his cronies make fun of me. Though they have not been brave enough to continue since I called him out on it in the Dining Hall.”

“But why help me?” She asked, fishing for compliments to boost her self esteem.

“To be honest, I just couldn’t watch anymore as you socially crashed and burned. It was just so painful to see. You have so much talent but act like Ron would, ignoring everyone around you and charging in like you know best. I wondered if you would be interested in some advice that would help you become the brilliant witch I know you could be.”

Harry decided to go the brutally honest route, he couldn’t be arsed dancing around the subject to spare her feelings. Besides, she had already been crying for hours, how much more tears could she have?

“W-what do you mean? I have been doing my best to make friends, but everyone just makes fun of me! It’s just like normal school!” She whined and then burst into a fresh bout of tears.

It seems he should have had this discussion before she ate. Now she just had more energy to cry with, thanks to a hearty meal and a goblet of that god awful pumpkin juice. He could only sigh and beat her around the head with logic.

‘This would be so much easier if she was nearly killed by a troll.’ he thought to himself.

“Hermione, we don’t share many classes, but based on our first meeting and from what I have heard, you come off as patronising and bossy. When you barged into my compartment on the train, you didn’t knock, you didn’t introduce yourself, you just bulldozed in like you owned the joint and started questioning people. How many compartments did you do that for and what were their reactions? Not the best first impression, now was it.

Then you continuously offer unsolicited advice and quotes, that while accurate and interesting, just makes you look like a pompous show-off. Next, we have your antics in class. Your constant need to raise your hand to answer every question has everyone, including the teachers, rolling their eyes at your eagerness to please!

Do you think the teachers actually don’t know the answer to the questions they ask and need you to tell them the so they can write it down for their next class? The way you enthusiastically jump out of your seat to show everyone that you know the answer is just so painful to watch!

You are smart and could easily skip a grade thanks to your memorising the course work after a bit of practical experience, but do you think you are the only one? Teachers ask questions to keep the students engaged and make sure the slow ones are paying attention or they shame them into listening.” Harry ranted at the sobbing girl.

At least she had not tried to run away yet, Harry would hit her with a Leg-Locker Curse if she tried. Sighing, he moved to sit beside her and rubbed her back until she calmed down, he didn’t want to have to go through this twice because she wasn’t listening. After a few minutes, she settled down to the occasional sob and finally got herself under control.

Turning her splotchy tear-stained face towards him, she quietly asked, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because it would be so simple for you to change how things are! The smallest of changes would have you become one of the popular kids and a worthy companion. It is so unbearable to see you throw your potential down the drain and barricade yourself in a toilet to cry and plot your suicide!”

“I am not thinking of suicide!” She shouted in outrage.

“Well, you are showing all the signs of an Emo. How was I to know if you were contemplating cutting yourself or not, just so you could ‘feel physical pain instead of emotional turmoil’ or some such bullsh*t?” Harry said in an exasperated tone.

He could not understand self-harm people, he would much rather physically hurt the person causing him emotional pain than inflicting it on himself! And he loved himself way too much to kill himself, he would much rather move state, country or continent if he hated his life! But on the other hand, he didn’t begrudge people the choice to top themselves, he just thought it was unfair for their loved ones.

“I’m not an Emo, whatever that is. I am just not feeling well…” She lamely rebuffed his accusations.

“An Emo is an overly sensitive and full of angst teenager that thinks they have it incredibly tough and that no one knows the pain they have to live with. Basically, a whiny little b*tch that needs a good beating and then dropped off in Somalia to see what a real tragic life involves. They have it so hard with their full bellies, new clothes and safe house to shelter them from the elements, that they think about ending it all while dressing in black to show how sad and miserable they are.

But that’s not the point. I wanted you to hear the hard truth, so you could make some changes. And they are only small changes that would make so much difference.” Harry explained.

Then he stared at her for a full five minutes before she got the hint and asked him what they were.

“Did you see what I did there? I waited for you to ask me for help. That dog-sh*t red-headed muppet was sort of justified in his outburst because you gave him unasked for advice and made him look like an idiot. Which is easy to do because he is an idiot!

Now before you object, I know you were probably just trying to help, and it was well-intentioned, but Ron didn’t see it that way did he? From his perspective, you were making him look stupid and were showing off!

But if he had been the one to ask you for help, then you could have shown him how to correctly cast the spell and gained some brownie points! Not that you should, that boy will always be a jealous prat that needs a good thrashing.

The same for raising your hand in class. Give it a moment so that the teacher can call out those she wants to test. If she then asks if anyone knows the answer, then raise your hand calmly and display your intelligence. You don’t have to look like a chipmunk on crack so the teacher can see that you know the answer!”

What followed was thirty minutes on schooling the poor girl on how not to act like a target of ridicule and how to manipulate the impressionable children into liking her. To give her some credit, Hermione was a lot more mature than the majority of children her age, but she was still just a child.

Her reading level might be that of a young a.d.u.l.t, but her emotional experience was that of a ten-year-old. She just had no sense of how to relate to her peers or fit in. She was actually confused by the revelation that eleven-year-olds didn’t want to talk about Shakespeare or other authors of literary masterpieces.

Still, after she realised that Harry wasn’t there to deal the finishing blow to her self esteem, her intellect took back the reigns from her emotions. She then pulled out a pad of paper from her bookbag and started taking notes. All in all, Harry was happy with the final result of his ranting, even if it did start off somewhat shaky.

He was nearly going to point out that her appearance could be easily fixed by magic, but quickly stopped himself. He didn’t want his ugly duckling gaining too much confidence and breaking free from his burgeoning influence.