Getting to Hogsmeade, Ron first dragged Hermione and Chiara to the sweets shop, Honeydukes. “C’mon Hermione, you gotta load up on sweets while you have the chance!” He smiled with his arms full of collected confections. Hermione sighed while Chiara stifled a giggle. “I’d rather not upset my stomach, thank you very much.” Hermione winced looking at all that sugar, already feeling a stomach ache brewing just staring at it. “Don’t forget, half of this is for Harry.” Ron corrected, reminding that Harry couldn’t go because of his horrible family treating him like garbage. ‘Why does he stay there when he could just use his wealth to just live at the three broomsticks inn? Maybe he never thought of that…’ Hermione frowned, knowing that Harry sometimes could let things easily pass over his head when given a chance. She would have to discuss it with him later.

Hermione felt someone bump into her, and turned to see Chiara holding out some wrapped chocolate frogs to her. “Um… I-I just thought that maybe we could share some too. D-Do you like chocolate?” Hermione couldn’t help but smile at her closest girl friend. Her nervous demeanor and stuttering words held back her gentle and caring attitude, something Hermione found endearing. “Yes, I love chocolate.” She said, feeling the need to grab a few other chocolate treats to share with Chiara. 

By this time, Hermione had figured out the reason for Chiara’s nervousness. After finding out about Lucas’ affliction, and studying up on it, she noticed a few other matching tendencies with her closest friend as well. Her silver eyes, gleaming brighter as the moon became fuller, hiding from the Boggart, her taste for meat and chocolate, (The second was like a forbidden food that one could eat from time to time), and finally watching Chiara sneakily drinking potions for days at a time before the full moon. Yes, Hermione’s closest friend was invariably a werewolf. That in itself, matching with the strange prediction Chiara made on the first day they met. Hermione first thought she could have been the kindred spirit Chiara confused Lucas with, but now knew that Chiara was probably right in Lucas being that kindred spirit.

Hermione asked about what other kinds of treats Chiara might like, hiding her knowledge of Chiara’s secret even from her. Chiara’s affliction didn’t scare Hermione in the slightest. She had seen first hand the pain and fear in Lucas’ eyes when seeing her shocked gaze at learning of it. She understood not to rock the boat of Chiara’s deepest fears. That still didn't mean that she enjoyed Lucas’ attempt at removing her memories. She understood, but that didn't seem to help. She didn’t even know why she hated him so much for it, but she did.

Chiara then pulled Hermione’s sleeve, and pointed across the street. Hermione looked at the shop, and felt her stomach slightly drop in response. “A salon?” She asked, Chiara eagerly nodding her head. “I-I’ve always wanted to go with a friend…” Hermione frowned, no matter what she or anybody did, her hair refused to be tamed. It taunted her and anyone who tried, frizzling back into place immediately after the attempt was made. She never liked salon’s because of it, always either getting her money back, or casual snickers at her predicament. She wanted to say no, but Chiara’s worried squirming pushed her into agreement. Hermione sighed with a nod. “Ron, we’ll meet you at the three broomsticks inn.”

After leaving Honeydukes, and walking across the street, Hermione opened the door to the salon. The bell attached to the door rang, announcing their presence. “Be right there!” A woman yelled from deeper in the store, Hermione and Chiara glancing around. They could see plenty of other girls from Hogwarts coming here, getting their hair done by floating pairs of scissors and combs. The place smelled of shampoo, a very distinct smell of roses and lilacs helped keep Hermione’s anxiety in check.

“What can I get you both started with?” A woman asked, her auburn hair slowly waved seemingly on its own, creating a brilliant image of her hair on fire. Hermione licked her dry lips before trying to explain her desire. “If you could straighten my hair?” She asked, unable to say more without embarrassing herself. The woman smiled and nodded before turning to Chiara. Chiara already had magnanimous silver hair that seemed to flow like silk, there was not much needed to do here. “Umm… I don’t have anything in mind…” She admitted, only really wanting the experience of coming here.

The woman smiled at both girls, gently clapping her hands in glee, as if she had been given an early Christmas present. “No worry dear, I have an idea in mind!” The next half hour was filled with sinking, straightening, pulling, yanking, and brushing. While it was happening the woman began talking to both girls. “Are you girls looking to impress some boys today?” She asked with a giggle, Hermione jerking in her seat. “What!? No, we just thought it would be fun.” She quickly corrected, avoiding the sudden face entering her mind.

The woman chuckled while continuing to tug, and brush Hermione’s hair. “Alright~” She stifled more laughter while Hermione’s face burned. “Well don’t worry, I guarantee results.” Hermione closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to calm herself while her hair slowly changed around her ears.

“Alright! Take a look!” The woman huffed, tired but content with her job. Hermione slowly opened her eyes, blinking a few times to make sure she was seeing things correctly. “How did you…” She gasped, feeling her now smooth chestnut hair, no longer frizzled, only slightly curled near the bottom, giving her a look of a model. “Wow…” She glanced over at Chiara staring at her, and gasped seeing Chiara's new silver hair, lengthened down to her back, now showcasing more of the beauty her hair held.

“It’s always a good day, when I can showcase an unpolished gem’s beauty.” The woman smirked observing both girls at every angle, looking for any mistakes in her handiwork, but finding none. The salon grew silent as both girls walked out of the store. All the girls were staring in awe at both girl’s amazing new looks. “Come back again!”

When they left, both girls quickly made their way to the three broomsticks inn, avoiding the looks surrounding them. “This… Is more difficult than I thought.” Chiara muttered, hiding slightly behind Hermione, hating the stares more than Hermione. Hermione scoffed, but her gaze went to a shop much closer than the inn at the other end of Hogsmeade, one that should have almost nobody inside of it. “Let’s take a rest here for a moment.” She offered, leading the way to the old run down shop.

Entering inside, an old bell tolled, one that sounded dim and unhappy of their visit. The smell of parchment filled their lungs, while stacks of books and parchments surrounded them, piled high with little to no sense of rhyme or reason. There sat an old man at his desk, glancing at both girls, before losing interest just as quickly, finding more solace in the book in his hand. “What is this place?” Chiara silently asked, looking around with a much more sense of ease seeing nobody else here. “Tomes and Scrolls.” Hermione responded, looking around, her interest mounting.

She slowly made her way through the store, looking but not touching the myriad of old Tomes, stacked atop of each other, semi haphazardly. It was clear why this place had no business, the presentation was horrid, even if very few actually knew Runes, and had the expertise to translate the Tomes, just looking through here, Hermione frowned at the poor state many of the Tomes were in. Dusty, old, frayed, were just a few ways to describe them, and the ‘new’ ones that stuck out didn’t fare much better. A quick inspection told her that they were filled with nothing but nonsense. ‘Household spells, summoning unnamed elves, nothing interesting…’ 

“Is that…?” Chiara suddenly asked, Hermione glancing at her, and following her eyes to see what she was looking at. To her surprise, she saw Lucas, staring deeply into the confines of an old Tome he presumably picked up from the shelf in front of him. His gaze was indecipherable, the closest Hermione could attribute it to was disbelief, looking back and forth between his hand and the Tome itself with increasingly more intensity.