'A Hufflepuff would say,' said Dumbledore, tapping his finger on the faded badger and making Hermione wince for the sacrilege (if it was the original), 'that people fail to become who they are meant to be, because they are too lazy to put in all the work involved. A Ravenclaw,' tapping the raven, 'would repeat those words that the wise know to be far older than Socrates, know thyself, and say that people fail to become who they are meant to be, through ignorance and lack of thought. And Salazar Slytherin,' Dumbledore frowned as his finger tapped the faded snake, 'why, he said that we become who we are meant to be by following our desires wherever they lead. Perhaps he would say that people fail to become themselves because they refuse to do what is necessary to achieve their ambitions. But then one notes that nearly all of the Dark Wizards to come out of Hogwarts have been Slytherins. Did they become what they were meant to be? I think not.' Dumbledore's finger tapped the lion, and then he turned toward her. 'Tell me, Miss Granger, what would a Gryffindor say? I do not need to ask whether the Sorting Hat offered you that House.'
It didn't seem like a hard question. 'A Gryffindor would say that people don't become who they should be, because they're afraid.'
'Most people are afraid, Miss Granger,' said the old wizard. 'They live their whole lives circumscribed by crippling fear that cuts off everything they might accomplish, everything they might become. Fear of saying or doing the wrong thing, fear of losing their mere possessions, fear of death, and above all the fear of what other people will think of them. Such fear is a most terrible thing, Miss Granger, and it is terribly important to know that. But it is not what Godric Gryffindor would have said. People become who they are meant to be, Miss Granger, by doing what is right.' The old wizard's voice was gentle. 'So tell me, Miss Granger, what seems to you like the right choice? For that is who you truly are, and wherever that path leads, that is who you are meant to become.'
There was a long space filled with the sounds of things that could not be counted.
She thought about it, because she was a Ravenclaw.
'I don't think it's right,' Hermione said slowly, 'for someone to have to live inside someone else's shadow like that...'
'Many things in the world are not right,' said the old wizard, 'the question is what is right for you to do about them. Hermione Granger, I shall be less subtle than is usual for a mysterious old wizard, and tell you outright that you cannot imagine how badly things could go if the events surrounding Harry Potter turn to ill. His quest is a matter you would not even dream of walking away from, if you knew.'
'What quest?' said Hermione. Her voice was trembling, because it was very clear what answer the Headmaster was looking for and she didn't want to give it. 'What happened to Harry back then, why was Fawkes on his shoulder?'
'He grew up,' said the old wizard. His eyes blinked several times, beneath the half-moon glasses, and his face suddenly looked very lined. 'You see, Miss Granger, people do not grow up because of time, people grow up when they are placed in grownup situations. That is what happened to Harry Potter that Saturday. He was told - you are not to share this information with anyone, you understand - he was told that he would have to fight someone. I cannot tell you who. I cannot tell you why. But that is what happened to him, and why he needs his friends.'
There was a pause.
'Bellatrix Black?' Hermione said. She couldn't have been more shocked if someone had plugged an electrical cord into her ear. 'You're going to make Harry fight Bellatrix Black? '
'No,' said the old wizard. 'Not her. I cannot tell you who, or why.'
She thought about it some more.
'Is there any way I can keep up with Harry?' said Hermione. 'I mean, I'm not saying it's what I'll do, but - if he needs friends then can we be equal friends? Can I be a hero too?'
'Ah,' said the old wizard, and smiled. 'Only you can decide that, Miss Granger.'
'But you're not going to help me like you're helping Harry.'
The old wizard shook his head. 'I have helped him little enough, Miss Granger. And if you are asking me for a quest -' The old wizard smiled again, rather wryly. 'Miss Granger, you are in your first year of Hogwarts. Do not be too eager to grow up; there will be time enough for that later.'
'I'm twelve. Harry's eleven.'
'Harry Potter is special,' said the old wizard. 'As you know, Miss Granger.' The blue eyes were suddenly piercing beneath the half-moon glasses, and she was reminded of the day of the Dementor when Dumbledore's voice had said, inside her mind, that he knew about Harry's dark side.
Hermione put up her hand and touched Professor McGonagall's hand, which had stayed strong on her shoulder this whole time, and Hermione said, she was surprised that her voice didn't break, 'I'd like to go, now, please.'
'Of course,' said Professor McGonagall, and Hermione felt the hand on her shoulder gently turning her around to face the oaken door.
'Have you chosen your path yet, Hermione Granger?' said Albus Dumbledore's voice from behind her, even as the door slowly creaked open to reveal the Enchantment of the Endless Stair.
She nodded.
'And?'
'I'll,' she said, her voice stuck, 'I'll, I'll -'
She swallowed.
'I'll do - what's right -'
She didn't say anything else, she couldn't, and then the Endless Stair began revolving around her once again.
