Smoke-Novel

"Yes," Hermione said firmly. "I may even know more than you."
"You may indeed, in some aspects. Let me tell you, Miss Granger, neither
Celtiberian nor Coptic are likely to be of much use to you or to Mister Potter, at
least compared to the other languages I have suggested."
Hermione looked torn.
"Tell me, Miss Granger. Are you Harry Potter's friend, or are you prepared to
become a companion of the next White Warlock?"
Hermione looked pained. "Harry will have to become the flipside of a Dark Lord,
won't he?"
"I believe so. That is about the only title the press haven't bestowed on the poor
boy. Still, that is what it will take, even if we call him 'The Chosen One'."
"And these languages will help more than our learning new hexes or
something?"
"Potter will likely be learning those from the Headmaster, Miss Granger. You
have the chance to learn things Potter cannot. The Sanskrit and Tibetan, I
believe will become very important, sooner or later. The others. . . ."
"Yoruba, Ibo, Haitian Creole, Portuguese, Carib. . . ." Hermione mused.
"Voodoo?"
"That might also be necessary. Voldemort is using the dead and werewolves. At
least you will be able to research the first."
"And the Tibetan and Sanskrit?"
"Not until after Harry has learned what the Headmaster must teach him, and
Harry passes it on to you," Russell answered. "However, you may need this."
Hermione took the slip of paper, looked at it, and then looked at it again. "An
open pass to the Restricted Section? For the year?"
"You may take out any book you want, and have up to three out at any given
time," Russell said simply. "Use it well."
"Yes, sir. Thank you."
"This is not likely to be a happy year, over all. Good luck, Miss Granger."
Hermione stood. "And to you, sir."