Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling
I've been re reading the Silent World of Cassandra Evans, and of course it's amazing. Read it! Also, does anyone realize that when the Twins are throwing snowballs at Quirrel, they were hitting Voldemort?
As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaver skin boots. Hermione was wandering the halls alone, thinking when she heard a voice.
"What have we hear? A small Slytherin Snake, all alone."
Hermione spun around, starting to get scared. The speaker was a blond Gryffindor who Hermione barely recognized as a boy named Charles Cadence.
Hermione tried lowering her head and brushing past him, but was stopped by his friend, and equally mean looking boy.
"Please let me go." she said, unable to hide the tremor in her voice. Why were they doing this to her?
"I don't think so." the black haired boy sneered.
"You see," said the blonde one, "We don't like slimy snakes who act like they own the castle, so we're here to teach you a lesson. Ready Grinal?"
"Ready." Grinal nodded, and Hermione recognized him. Gidion Grinal, Gryffindor 6th year.
Grinal punched her in the stomach, and with a small gasp, Hermione doubled over in pain. She glared up at them. Hadn't she gone through this enough in Primary School?
"Aren't you not supposed to hit girls?" she spat.
"You're not a girl, you're a Slytherin." Cadence sneered.
Suddenly one of them punched her nose and she fell to the ground, blood streaming from it, and seeing stars. She felt a hex hit her arm and this time she couldn't help but cry out in pain as it was wrenched from it's position.
"Not so good are you now, huh?" Cadence sneered. Hermione spat blood at them in defiance, and the next moment she was on the ground writhing in pain. They had kicked her ribs, and woozily she noticed that one of her ribs had punctured her lungs. This was all Hermione knew before she blacked out.
When Hermione came to, all she knew was that she was in a very warm place, and all she could see was white. Slowly, she regained her bearings. What had happened? She remembered that two boys had ambushed her, but from there here memory was woozy. Hermione groaned. She was parched.
"Oh!" Madame Pomfrey, the Healer, bustled to her. "You're awake! Here." Madame P tilted her head and gave her water. Hermione took it all like a drought victim, gulping it and clutching the glass like her life depended on it.
"What happened?" she croaked, once she was done with the water.
"You were ambushed by two people, we don't know who. Prefect Elan Parkinson found you during his patrols and brought you here. The audacity!" she tutted. "Attacking a young girl like this."
"What was the damage?" Hermione asked quietly, not really wanting to know.
Madame Pomfrey gave her a sympathetic look. "A dislocated arm, two broken ribs, a punctured lung, a broken nose, and a concussion." she listed, and Hermione felt queasy, barely suppressing the feeling she had of dry retching.
"How long have I been out?"
"Nearly three days. You're friends visited, and left tokens." she said, pointing to her bedstand.
Hermione stared at the tiny pile of presents. She almost never had gotten a present! There was a box of chocolate frogs from Blaise, a card from Theo, another card from Daphne, a book from Tracy, and a small card from Elan. The last gift was a vase of deep red roses from Draco. She smiled. Deep red roses meant heartfelt regret and sorrow. Hermione smiled.
"When can I leave?" she asked.
"Not yet!" Madame Pomfrey scolded. "Dumbledore needs to come in and talk to you about who attacked."
"Ok." said Hermione, feeling hopeful. Now those two boys had to be expelled!
"Ah, Miss Granger." said Dumbledore in his grandfatherly tone. His robes were bright blue with golden dots on them. Hermione knew exactly what Pansy would say to them. Garish!
"Hello Headmaster." said Hermione, sitting up.
"I was hoping you could reveal to me who attacked you so I could have them arrested." he said.
"Two Gryffindors." said Hermione clearly. "Charles Cadence and Gideon Grinal."
"Ah." said Dumbledore shortly, and Hermione saw a weird expression flash across his face.
"Miss Granger, I am going to need proof of thee accusations."
Hermione stared at him suspiciously. "How can I provide proof?" she asked.
"I'm afraid there is no proper way without Veritaserum, but it is illegal to give it to minors. I'm afraid my hands are tied in this situation."
Hermione could do nothing but gape at him. She was attacked and he could do nothing? He was the headmaster for Merlin's sake!
"Thank you sir." she said, unable to keep the bite out of her voice. Walking back to the dungeons, she had a million thoughts rolling through her head.
"Passere." Hermione said to the wall, and it slid open. When she walked in, the common room was silent, before bursting into noise.
"What happened?"
"Are you alright?"
"Where have you been?"
"Who hurt you?"
"Wait!" Hermione shouted, unable to cope with all the questions. The room quieted.
"I was attacked." she admitted. "By two Gryffindor 6th years, Charles Cadence and Gideon Grinal."
"I know those two." said a 3rd year, Amelie Wilkes. "They attacked me when I was in my first year too. Dumbledore again did nothing."
"I'll kill them." Elan Parkinson hissed, a murderous look on his face.
"Don't." said Marcus Flint, with a sour look on his face. "I remember many attacks in my years so far, and each time a Slytherin was attacked, nothing was done. A few years ago, after a Slytherin 6th year attacked a Gryffindor 5th year for putting her cousin in St. Mungos, she was expelled for the attack on the lion, even though there was no proof. Dumbledore just won't hurt his precious lions."
"That's biased!" Hermione shriekd.
"You don't say." he drawled, and the reality of Hermione's situation set in. She had been attacked, and nothing would happen to her attackers because of her house.
Hermione went to sit down with her friends, and Blaise immediately made room for her.
"They're going to be punished right? Didn't Dumbledore listen to you?" said Pansy worriedly.
Hermione laughed bitterly. "As if. Dumbledore said that since there is not proof, nothing can be done."
"WHAT!" Pansy shrieked loudly, and Hermione winced. Damn Pansy and her mother goose instincts. "YOU'RE ATTACKED AND DUMBLEDORE GIVES NO PUNISHMENT! Of ALL THE …" Pansy went into a long winded rant about unfairness and no justice.
"Are you alright Princess?" asked Blaise.
"I'm fine." Hermione replied. "Oh no!" she exclaimed, widening her eyes. "I missed one of my Potions lessons!" and Hermione rushed off to his office.
"Professor sir!" she exclaimed in his office, skidding in. "I'm so sorry for missing your lesson, but I was attacked. It was right on the day of our lesson, and -" Hermione was babbling.
"Miss Granger, it is alright. I am more concerned about your welfare."
"I'm fine sir. Is there anyway I can make up the lessons?"
"We will just continue from where we left off next Thursday."
"Thank you sir!" she said, going back to the dungeons.
"Come on Hermione!" Draco wheedled. "Please?" Hermione glared at him before sighing in resignation.
"Fine." she grumbled. "I'll read the stupid quidditch books."
"Yes!" Draco cheered. Even though Hermione wouldn't admit it, they were quite interesting. Hermione learned that there were seven hundred ways of committing a Quidditch foul and that all of them had happened during a World Cup match in 1473; that Seekers were usually the smallest and fastest players, and that most serious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although people rarely died playing Quidditch, referees had been known to vanish and turn up months later in the Sahara Desert.
Soon it was time for the match, and Hermione walked out to the stands bundled up in scarves with omnioculars in her hands. Soon the game started.
"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too-"
"JORDAN!"
"Sorry, Professor."
The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.
"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve - back to Johnson and - no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes - Flint flying like an eagle up there - he's going to sc - no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle - that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and - OUCH - that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger - Quaffle taken by the Slytherins - that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger - sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which - nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes - she's really flying - dodges a speeding Bludger - the goal posts are ahead - come on, now, Angelina - Keeper Bletchley dives - misses - GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"
Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.
"Damn it!" Draco cursed. "Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the - wait a moment - was that the Snitch?"
A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.
"Come on!" Blaise bellowed. "Don't be distracted!"
Harry Potter started chasing the Snitch, Terrence Higgs right behind him. WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below - Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course.
"Yes!" Hermione said.
Lee Jordan was finding it difficult not to take sides.
"So - after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-"
"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.
"I mean, after that open and revolting foul..."
"Jordan, I'm warning you-"
"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinner, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."
Hermione scowled at him. "They should get a less biased commentator."
"As if that will happen." Pansy snorted.
Lee was still commentating.
"Slytherin in possession - Flint with the Quaffle - passes Spinnet - passes Bell - hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose - only joking, Professor - Slytherins score - A no..."
The Slytherins were cheering.
"Yes!" Daphne said.
"What's Potter's broom doing?" Theo asked.
Potter's broom was slowly flying away from the game and zig zagging. Potter himself was hanging on for dear life.
"Hope he get's knocked off." said Draco, glaring at the boy.
Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.
"Damn." Blaise whistled. "I hate the guy, but you have to admit, he has guts."
His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good - every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.
"Well at least we're catching up." Hermione muttered.
Suddenly, his broom stopped.
Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick - he hit the field on all fours - coughed - and something gold fell into his hand.
"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.
"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference - Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results - Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty.
"I hate this game." Hermione moaned, and Draco snorted.
"If I was playing we would have won."
"Keep dreaming." Theo retorted, and the boy started bickering.
Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.
No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Slytherin common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons. Snape had come to the common room one day and taught them all warming charms until most of them could cast it nonverbally.
"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."
Hermione snickered at Potter with her friends. She was going to Malfoy Manor. Carefully, she added spine of lionfish, and some boomslang skin, before handing the rod to Blaise for stirring. Soon the class was over, and Hermione turned in her perfect potion in like usual, keeping a vial for herself. They left the class, before finding themselves blocked by Hagrid, Potter, and Weasley.
"Would you mind moving out of the way?" Draco drawled. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose - that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."
Ron dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.
"WEASLEY!"
Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.
"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."
"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."
The group of friends pushed past them, and Hermione glared at them. "Do those barbarians have to resort to violence for everything?"
"Yes." smirked Blaise.
"It was a rhetorical question Blaise." she snapped.
"You're pretty when you're angry Princess." he smirked again, and Hermione flounced off with a huff.
