I stared back at Hermione right in her angry eyes and said, "what did you just say to me?"

"I know you aren't human, what are you?" She demanded.

"What makes you think I'm not?" I asked still stupified by her questions.

The buck-toothed, curly-haired girl held up the book she'd been reading earlier. It's cover read," a history of lost magic".

"The magic you've been teaching me was lost 1400 years ago. It's only book was destroyed in a fire and yet you said you'd read it the first day we met. So either you lied to me or your hiding a HUGE secret. And you're really old..." Hermione lectured.

So she's been suspicious of me for a while...

I admit I seriously underestimated her. I was ancient and most children lacked the attention span to pick up such minor details. I realize now I had been looking down on the girl even though ironically she is currently a head taller than me. Then... I lacked the common sense to prevent her from watching me craft an immensely powerful magical artifact and she understood way more of what I'd been doing than I ever thought possible.

"I am a wizard...just like all the other boys here..." I stated.

Hermione scoffed," Wizards and witches are still human no matter what they say otherwise. Sure having magic makes us live longer, but different species cannot produce viable offspring".

So even though she's a child she knows where baby's come from.

"I hate to break it to you but I'm currently completely a human male," I pointed out.

"Ha," Hermione chuckled, " I mean what were you before you became a boy. Gotta be something ancient... You know too much. It's not possible for someone your age to acquire that much knowledge, even if you read books from the day you were born. " Hermione postulated saying "boy" as if it was some kind of lesser being.

I was left with no choice, "Before I was incarnated as a human I was in fact a magical being..."

The girl did a victory dance," I Knew it! What were you? An Elf?"

I grimaced at that. An Elf? I couldn't tell her what I really am. She would freak out or at the very least keep me at a distance forever. Most likely she'd never trust me. Worst yet I cannot directly lie, " that... Definitely not an Elf and I cannot say what I was".

"What?!!! You're still going to hide things from me!" She shrieked stomping her foot.

"You must understand that some knowledge comes with risks and brings danger upon you. I'm willing to tell you why I'm here but what I truly am is out of the question," I explained.

"So what is it?" Hermione snapped.

"You Are asking my reason for being here?" I confirmed. She nodded in response.

"The Dark Lord will return... He isn't dead for good but...sadly Harry Potter is no more," I sighed.

"That's not... He's the boy who lived," Hermione frowned in disbelief.

" He did until Dumbledore failed to assure the boy's protection," I added.

She shook her head," How could Dumbledore possibly fail?"

" He put too much faith in the protection of familial bonds. Lily Potter who was Harry's mother used a spell of sacrifice to protect him but it only lasts a few years. Dumbledore used his own spell to preserve that effect with Lily's sister watching over Harry to maintain the effect. Harry's aunt hated her sister and Harry by association. With there being no love involved, the spell relied entirely on blood relation. Dumbledore calculated for a 50/50 blood relation and not the one they actually shared. Lily and Petunia's mother had an affair and they were only half-sisters. You didn't talk about such things in their parent's generations so they both never knew."

Hermione's jaw hung agape," How do you know that?"

"I just...do," I shrugged.

"That's not enough... It's all not enough! What are you? If you don't tell me then we're not friends anymore!" She screamed as tears fell down her face.

"I've told you that there are reasons I cannot tell you," I repeated solemnly.

"Fine! Be that way...Then... Then I hate you," Hermione cried as she slapped me right on the side of the face.

I watched her stomp away in retreat to the girls' dorm. How could such a small hand inflict so much pain? I asked myself just before the rest of our house came back to the dorms for the night. Pain is something I had never had to deal with before my incarnation. I'm always surprised by how much an injury hurts. Pain is one of my sister's creations and I don't like it at all.

I held out hope that Hermione would just get over being upset over time. The truth is I enjoyed our conversations until tonight... The only people I could really talk to until now were all children. I couldn't risk having a real intellectual conversation with the Professor's and none of the children other than Hermione hold a real conversation. With children, it is usually a chaotic nonsensical conversation about something silly they currently like but won't tomorrow. Children usually seem about as much a person as an otter in a clown outfit. You can convey some key concepts but one side isn't paying much attention, to begin with, and is easily distracted.

Realizing I'd grown accustomed to and dependent on Hermione's company made the loss of her companionship worse. Surely such a logical girl would see reason once she calmed down. After all, how long could she possibly hold a grudge?