Harry Potter: Bring fairytales to Hogwarts

In the bathroom, Hermione was standing in front of the mirror, slowly combing her messy, frizzy hair while opening her mouth, marveling at the strange sensation of singing when her throat could no longer produce sound.

She stared at her reflection, still finding it hard to believe.

…She had lost her voice?

What had she been thinking earlier? Why hadn't she taken more time to consider her decision?

She had carelessly given up her voice!

Thinking of this, Hermione couldn't help but tug at her hair, making her newly tidied hairstyle instantly messy again, resembling a lion's mane on edge.

She quickly tried to smooth her hair back down, but her mind was still filled with regret and self-reproach—

Hermione, oh Hermione, how could you resort to external tools to solve your problems? You're supposed to be a good student! Didn't Professor McGonagall always say that relying on shortcuts or external aids can never truly help one master a skill?

If she had been given more time to think, Hermione was sure she wouldn't have accepted Professor Viktor's proposal.

But now it was too late for regret, Hermione thought.

The moment she had pressed the fishbone against her throat and uttered the first syllable, the fishbone had lit up in a peculiar way. Along with that light, her voice had rapidly diminished until it completely disappeared.

Professor Viktor had taken the fishbone afterward, saying:

"The necessary ritual is complete. You can now start using the conch."

"Remember, when the conch speaks, you must mimic the same mouth movements. Otherwise, not only will others notice, but you might also experience assimilation effects from the conch. However, it's not a big deal—just stop using it, and it will go away immediately."

Before Hermione could ask more about the negative effects, Professor Viktor had walked off on his own. For that reason, Hermione decided to run to the bathroom to figure out how the conch worked.

When she tried using the conch, the thought of singing had naturally popped into her mind.

"Screeeak—"

As Hermione was still distracted by her thoughts of singing, a faint creaking sound suddenly came from beside her, making her freeze instantly.

The door was moving.

Someone was coming.

She hurriedly tried to hide the conch hanging around her neck but realized it was too late. She could only try her best to maintain a calm expression as she turned to look.

But the moment she looked…

She saw two boys peeking into the girls' bathroom.

From her perspective, she could clearly see the wooden door of the girls' bathroom had been pushed open a crack. In that narrow slit, the heads of Harry and Ron were squeezed in side by side.

Hermione: "..."

Hermione: "???"

For a moment, all her panic and regret vanished, replaced by sheer astonishment. That astonishment quickly morphed into anger.

She immediately wanted to shout—

Were they insane? Skipping the banquet just to peek into the girls' bathroom? Did they think Gryffindor didn't have enough points deducted already?

She glared at them furiously, but the words that came out were instead:

"Harry? Ron?"

When she stopped singing, that crisp, gentle voice flowed out of her mouth again.

"Did you come looking for me on purpose? Thank you—I thought you didn't care about what I was thinking... But next time, don't push the bathroom door. Just knock."

Hearing her own words, Hermione froze and quickly shut her mouth.

That wasn't what she had wanted to say!

The conch pendant on her chest shimmered faintly as she spoke, but outside the door, Harry and Ron didn't seem to notice. They just stared at her, slack-jawed.

Outside the bathroom.

They squeezed even closer to the door crack.

"H-Hermione?"

"Is that really you? Merlin's beard, you never told us you could sing!" Ron exclaimed in disbelief. "And sing so beautifully!"

"…I just discovered it today."

After a few seconds, Hermione opened her mouth, and that clear voice answered on its own again.

"It shows that people should try new things—whether it's singing, Transfiguration, or Charms, it's all the same."

Hermione's voice had clearly turned Ron's brain to mush; he even forgot they'd had a quarrel earlier. He just stared at her with wide eyes, his mouth opening and closing without a sound.

…Hermione's voice was always this lovely?

Both he and Harry couldn't help but wonder.

But Harry quickly realized he couldn't make sense of it—because, strangely, he couldn't remember what Hermione's original voice sounded like.

Her current voice wasn't particularly unusual, but it was exceptionally pleasant to listen to. Even though she was still talking about academics, her choice of words had changed, making it impossible to feel any irritation. Instead, he just wanted to hear more.

…More of Hermione's voice?

Merlin's pants, what was he thinking!

This was Hermione, who almost always acted like a perpetually charged alarm bell. The moment any student tried to defy a professor's instructions, she'd immediately go off, announcing loudly, "I'm telling the professor!" or "You'll lose Gryffindor points!"

Harry shook himself out of it, trying to banish the oddly vivid image from his mind.

He couldn't help but ask again, "Are you really Hermione?"

"Of course. What kind of magic at Hogwarts could replace me?"

Hermione frowned slightly. Although her voice remained gentle, her expression gave Harry a look that clearly said, "You haven't been studying properly," instantly tying her to her previous self in Harry's mind.

"I just thought you've changed a lot," Harry said awkwardly. "You know, uh... when you left the hall earlier, you weren't like this. Did something happen?"

"I met Professor Viktor and talked with him. He told me I shouldn't feel bad about how others see me."

"…I'm sorry."

Harry's awkwardness deepened.

However, he noticed something subtly off—Hermione's eyes sometimes widened when she spoke, and her expression didn't always match her tone. Even her mouth movements seemed slightly mismatched at times.

Why was that?

Before Harry could figure it out, Ron suddenly spoke:

"What's that smell?"

He sniffed, prompting Harry to do the same.

A foul odor wafted into their noses.

Even inside the bathroom, Hermione wrinkled her small nose, clearly noticing the stench as well.

Wait… that stench…

Harry and Ron's expressions changed drastically. Snapping out of their shock, they turned their heads to look around.

Predictably, not far away, they spotted a large, grotesque creature.

Perhaps Hermione's singing had masked its footsteps, keeping Harry and Ron from noticing its approach. But now that they had spotted it, the distance between them and the creature was alarmingly short.

The magical beast was terrifying. Twelve feet tall, its skin was dull and granite-like, its massive, clumsy body resembling a heap of mud topped with a cocoa-bean-shaped head.

Its short, tree-stump-like legs ended in flat, calloused feet. A nauseating stench emanated from it, and it dragged a huge wooden club along the ground with its long arms.

This was where Harry and Ron had gone wrong. Their startled jumps upon noticing the creature immediately drew its attention.

"It's a troll!"

Ron shouted at once.

"Quick! Into the bathroom—lock the door!"

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