Chapter 10
Hermione sat by the fire in the Gryffindor common room. Ron and Harry were talking about Quidditch again, or something of the sort. She wasn't really paying attention. She was actually downright ignoring them as she desperately tried to catch up on her homework. Well, technically, she was still ahead of her current assignments - but she was way behind considering her usual standards. Normally, by this time in the year, she would have read each of her texts at least twice through and also checked out any related books in the library. So far, however, she was only halfway through her second go on her textbooks, and she hadn't had any extra time for additional research.
Plus, she only had a limited time to accomplish everything she wanted to do.
Malfoy had left a scrap of parchment on his desk that afternoon, subtly gesturing to it before sweeping out of the classroom. She'd picked it up nonchalantly and found it only held a simple mark: one small, horizontal line intersecting with a longer, vertical one, almost creating a backwards "L".
She'd only puzzled over it for a minute before deciphering the begrudgingly clever code. The two small lines represented clock hands* that pointed to nine o'clock. She guessed that Malfoy wanted to meet in her secret classroom at that time tonight.
Had he found something? Had he really discovered how to get into the Hufflepuff common room? Her stomach did a sickening swoop at the thought of breaking more school rules for Malfoy's sake. Why did she have to go and call his bluff like that?
Then she thought of the pig-headed sneer he wore when denouncing Cedric's nature, and she set her jaw stubbornly. She would show him.
Her original goal of berating Malfoy for his treatment of Harry had admittedly gotten a bit off track. She knew she'd let him get to her, but she couldn't help reacting to his taunts. Especially about Cedric.
Cedric had always seemed so thoughtful and kind, with an easy smile always present. From what she was able to glean, he was quite intelligent, too (she'd heard a couple of Ravenclaws gushing over him). Not to mention he was incredibly handsome. With his strong jawline and brown hair that had a habit of falling over his grey eyes... He'd probably never even notice Hermione, but that didn't stop her heart from fluttering whenever she saw him.
Hermione was jerked from her thoughts by Ron saying loudly, "He'd be fine if he didn't have to worry about that orange monster trying to eat him every five minutes!"
Hermione looked up, confused.
"What?"
"Scabbers! He's not doing well. Haven't you been listening at all, Hermione?"
Hermione gave him a dry look and gestured to her piece of the table, which was covered in books.
Ron's blue eyes narrowed, "Well, for your information, Scabbers is worse than ever. Even the Rat Tonic I bought him doesn't seem to be doing anything. He's too stressed! He's trembling in my pocket right now, terrified of your mangy cat!"
Hermione glanced at Ron's shirt and caught a glimpse of the pet rat as it tried to burrow even deeper into the redhead's pocket.
"Crookshanks isn't mangy!" she began, annoyed at Ron's constant moaning about her new pet, "Scabbers is an old rat, Ronald. The witch at Magical Menagerie said so herself - she's never seen a common rat live so long! I'm sure that-"
But she was cut off by an orange blur as it leapt on Ron's lap.
"GET-OFF-OF-HIM!" Ron bellowed, kicking Crookshanks halfway across the room. There was a great deal of squeaking as Scabbers tried in vain to escape, but Ron held on tight.
"There's something wrong with that thing, Hermione!" Ron yelled at her, "He heard me say that Scabbers was in my pocket! You'd better start keeping that - that beast AWAY from me and my pet!"
"It's not my fault, Ronald! It's his instinct, and-"
"I don't care WHAT it is, lock the thing up if you have to!" he retorted furiously.
Harry, who had been looking helplessly back and forth between his two friends as they spat angrily at each other, opened his mouth to say something.
Hermione didn't even give him a chance to try and calm them down; she just began tossing her books haphazardly into her bag.
"Where are you going?!" demanded the red-faced redhead.
"TO THE LIBRARY!" Hermione screeched.
Ron opened his mouth to yell at her a bit more, but Hermione didn't hear any of it. She gathered up Crookshanks and practically jumped out of the portrait hole, book-laden bag and all, then stomped off down the hall.
It was almost nine o'clock anyways, so she made her way huffily to her secret room.
Thank Merlin, Malfoy wasn't there when she arrived. She needed a few minutes to calm down, or there was no way she'd be able to survive the night without exploding.
She placed her bag down by the door and sat on the window ledge, drawing Crookshanks close to her chest. Deep breaths, she told herself. The orange cat began to purr as she petted him absent-mindedly, only pausing her motions every so often to wipe at her cheeks.
By the time Malfoy came sauntering into the room, Hermione had successfully managed to calm herself down.
It was fortunate that she did, it turned out, because Malfoy wasn't there for five seconds before drawling insufferably, "Do you remember me telling you about my vast cunning and cleverness?"
Hermione lifted her eyes up to the ceiling and heaved a dramatic sigh, "Do explain, Malfoy. You're going to tell me whether I want you to or not."
"I f- What in Merlin's name is that?"
Hermione looked around, and seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she asked, "What?"
"That thing you're holding!" he said, pointing at the cat curled in her lap.
"Oh, Crookshanks? He's my cat," she replied warily.
Malfoy's eyes went wide, "That's not a cat, that's a-"
But Hermione had had enough. She held up her hand and barked bossily, "I'll thank you not to say anything ill about my pet, Malfoy! I've had quite enough of that tonight from Ronald; I won't have it from you too! Now, unless you want me to walk right back out that door, tell my why it is you're so clever. I know you're dying to spit it out!"
Malfoy watched the cat as it jumped off Hermione's lap, apparently displeased that it was no longer getting its ears scratched. For a moment, he looked like he might say something else despite Hermione's warning. But then he shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, examining his cuticles lazily.
"Oh, it's nothing really. It's just that I've found it," he said, eyes flicking up to meet hers, "I found the way in."
Hermione stared that him for a moment.
"...You actually found it?"
He looked as if he was trying, and failing, to stifle a very proud smile.
"You found the way in to the Hufflepuff Common room?" she asked again.
The Slytherin practically preened at her.
"You didn't!" she blurted, disbelieving.
"I did, actually," he drawled pompously.
She stared at him a moment before demanding, "Show me."
Malfoy's hand twitched forward before he simply jerked his head towards the door.
Crookshanks darted out from behind a stack of desks, apparently ready to leave as well. He gave Malfoy a curious sniff before darting out the door the second it opened wide enough. Hermione and Malfoy followed.
They crept silently through corridors and down staircases, Malfoy leading the way. Eventually, they came to a stretch of hallway that held a painting of a bowl of fruit on one wall and a small stack of barrels on the other.
"Is this it?" Hermione whispered, disbelief plain in her voice.
Malfoy sneered at her then took out his wand and made a show of rolling up the sleeve on his uninjured arm. Hermione rolled her eyes; he was so dramatic.
"Watch and learn, Granger," he whispered. Extending his wand arm, he tapped out a rhythm on one of the barrels: tap-TAP tap-TAP-tap-tap.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then, a large stream of foul-smelling liquid spewed out of the barrel, completely drenching Malfoy. The blond darted back, sputtering and coughing and spitting.
Hermione, who had just barely jumped out of the way in time, doubled over in silent giggles.
"URGH!" Malfoy hissed, spitting again, "Vinegar!"
His outburst only increased Hermione's hysteria, and she felt she might crack a rib at the effort of keeping her laughter from tumbling out of her.
Malfoy muttered a quick, "Scourgify!" before scowling at the Gryffindor, "Get a hold of yourself, Granger! Do you realize what will happen if we're caught out past curfew?"
It took a few moments for Hermione to finally regain control of her mirth. When she had calmed down, she managed to whisper, "What now, oh cunning Slytherin?"
"Leave it, Granger!" he snapped, then he muttered to himself, "I'm certain this is the right place… I must have tapped the wrong series…"
He brandished his wand again, and tapped experimentally on the wall: tap-TAP… tap-tap-TAP
Hermione raised her hand to her chin and brushed her thumb along her lips as she thought. What rhythm would the Hufflepuffs choose as their password?
Tap…
TAP-tap-tap
Hufflepuff. Well, that was three syllables - maybe three taps? It wasn't a very long sequence. Malfoy had tapped more than that when he first tried - and failed - to enter...
"Let me try," she said quietly.
Malfoy magnanimously waved her towards the barrels, taking a large, measured step backwards.
"Be my guest."
Hermione stepped up to the barrel that spat the vinegar. Bracing herself slightly, she held out her wand: TAP-tap, TAP-tap-tap.
Again, nothing happened for a moment.
Then, a piece of wall rolled away, revealing a small tunnel.
Hermione grinned triumphantly at Malfoy, her nose in the air.
He sneered at her.
"Yes, yes, all right. You've proven how oh-so-clever you are," he grumbled sourly, "How did you figure it out anyways?"
"Simple. It's the rhythm to 'Helga Hufflepuff'," she stated matter-of-factly.
"Of course it bloody is," spat the blond as he climbed into the tunnel.
Hermione followed after him, still grinning.
*Shamelessly stolen from the new Tomb Raider movie.
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