Hannah Abbott sighed, trying to tune out the monotonous drone of Professor Binns. Sticking the end of a Deluxe Sugar Quill in her mouth, she turned to whisper to Ernie MacMillan, Susan Bones, and Justin Finch-Fletchley, her two blonde pigtails whipping around and hitting the back of her neck as her head turned. "My God, isn't this dead boring, you guys?" The Hufflepuffs usually didn't hate their classes, especially because they got to choose their classes their sixth year. History of Magic was a good class and all, but…jeez, could it be any more boring? It was as if the whole class had died instead of their professor.
"No pun intended," Ernie whispered back sarcastically, tapping his (real) feather quill against its matching ink pot, the nib splattering tiny droplets of navy blue ink onto the header inch of his parchment. He looked down at it and cursed softly, and not for the reason that Susan and Hannah thought. Aside from the splatters at the top, the sheet of parchment Ernie was supposed to be using to take notes was completely ink-free.
Hannah made a ridiculous-looking face, scrunching her nose up and crossing her light eyes as her hand mindlessly copied down every few things out of their ghostly professor's mouth. "Ha ha, very funny, Ernie… Though I do wonder if Quick-Quotes Quills work on ghosts. It is hardly exciting to just copy it all down without really looking for the main points and having to do it later."
Justin nodded in agreement, his eyes flicking back to Ernie's quill still tapping on the small ceramic jar. "Well, they don't have saliva, so I have no idea. It sure would make our lives easier."
Through her teeth, Hannah said with an obvious tinge of frustration, "I severely hope you two don't think you'll be able to copy the notes off me." Susan let out a snort at that, partly because she was meticulously copying notes down too.
As his hand grabbed hers reassuringly on top of the table, Ernie said, "Of course we do, silly," his palm patting the back of her hand calmly. Susan giggled softly, knowing Professor Binns wouldn't notice anything.
"How the hell did he die? And then get this job? He doesn't seem too interested in it anyway." All four Hufflepuffs nodded, looking around the room at the Ravenclaws. There were three or four who were paying rapt attention, copying every single word of their professor's down, but the rest were otherwise occupied. Ernie raised his eyebrows, and then faced his paper again. He began copying down a factoid, but coughed in a disgusted manner and decided to doodle instead. Susan flicked Justin's arm, trying to get him to pay attention to his notes instead of to his fingernails, which weren't at all interesting to begin with.
Hannah rolled her eyes and slid her hand away from Ernie's, moving it to her lap and, with the other hand, resuming copying the dull goblin facts Professor Binns was droning on about.
- - -
Ahh, Herbology was so much better than History of Magic. It was odd; as they both started with the letter H, presumably for Hufflepuff, yet one class everyone in the House loathed, and the other most all of them loved. Hannah stood right next to Ernie and Susan at a table, as usual. Justin was unfortunately left to pair up with Zacharias Smith and a Ravenclaw neither the Hufflepuff girls nor the boys knew. Their goggles rested strapped on top of their heads as Professor Sprout came around the greenhouse giving out instructions. A knock came from the door to the plant-filled glass room, and Professor Sprout ushered in a second-year child clutching a letter. Professor Sprout scanned it quickly and gasped softly.
"Hannah Abbott," Professor Sprout said, beckoning her outside with a grim look on her face. Hannah, startled, looked from Susan to Ernie to Justin, who looked as confused as she did. Shrugging, Hannah followed Professor Sprout out of the greenhouse, laying her goggles on a table by the door as the two walked out by the side of the building.
Professor Sprout's voice was quiet and shaky as she handed Hannah the note the second-year messenger had given her but two minutes before. Prior to looking at it, Hannah furrowed her blonde brow and, concerned, asked her teacher, "Are you all right, Professor?" All the Hufflepuff Head of House could do was gesture to the letter silently, shaking her head as if to clear it of a bad taste or water droplets.
As Hannah looked at the note, it read,
Dear Miss Hannah Abbott,
We regret to inform you of your mother, Dana Abbott's, death. Her body was found in your residence, apparently affected by the Avada Kedavra Killing Curse. It is your father, Jonathan Abbott's decision to withdraw you from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, effective immediately. Our condolences to you and your family.
-Rufus Scrimgeour, courtesy of the Ministry of Magic
Hannah clapped her hand to her mouth and let out a soft wail, her usually bright green eyes flooding with tears. She dropped to a crouch, her forehead resting on her knees as the sobs racked her lean body. "But- but how?" she whispered with a hiccup as soon as she could talk again, looking up at Professor Sprout with a red, tear-stained face.
"I think you'd best see Professor Dumbledore," Professor Sprout said nervously, wringing her hands. "I'm very sorry, Hannah," she murmured, pulling her student into a warm hug.
Nodding and sniffling, Hannah was handed her bag by a bewildered-looking Susan, whose face crumpled into a worry only a best friend could give. A question marked her face, but Hannah shook her head, her eyes saying, "Later." Hannah walked back into the castle from the grounds, trying to stop hiccupping and gasping for air. Her mother was dead? It couldn't be. Madam Bones had been killed earlier that year, but she was a big Ministry official. But Hannah's mother didn't do anything out of the ordinary, she didn't work for the Ministry or the Quibbler or anything. Was this just another unfair fly-by murder? A sob escaped Hannah's lips again as she banged her fist on the gargoyle guarding the staircase to Dumbledore's office. "My mum's dead!" she shouted at the ever-so-stoic stone griffin, letting her tears fall free again. It just wouldn't open up.