I don't own HP. Wish I did, but I don't.
AN: Thank you to my betas :)
oXoXoXo
Hermione pointedly ignored the two pairs of eyes boring into the back of her head as she tried to do her homework in the library. She was angry and she was not going to let Harry and Tracey forget that anytime soon. Not after they had been so unapologetic about nearly getting the three of them killed.
All because they thought they'd found a crime in the making.
She sniffed and flipped open the book in front of her, going to the chapter on hovering charms so she could write her essay. It was outrageous how the two of them had acted after she woke up in the hospital wing. She just didn't know how to respond to them.
"Harry! Hermione is awake!"
Tracey's words weren't loud, but they made Hermione's head pound. She didn't remember the troll clobbering her on the head, but it sure felt like it had happened.
"How do you feel?" Harry asked as his face appeared in her field of view.
She gasped in pain and reached up to cover her ears. "Not so loud."
"I'll get Madam Pomfrey," Tracey said before hurrying away.
Hermione didn't know how long it took for the mediwitch to arrive, but she was grateful that Harry said nothing while they waited.
"Headache?" Madam Pomfrey said quietly when she appeared.
Hermione started to nod, but stopped when a wave of nausea ran through her. She grimaced.
"Drink this, then close your eyes and rest for about five minutes. If the pain doesn't leave let me know. Stress headache exasperated by that bump on your head."
The words were hard for Hermione to follow, but she managed to understand enough that she happily drank down the oily potion held to her lips.
The mediwitch bustled away as Hermione closed her eyes. She floated for a few minutes in a sea of pain-filled darkness. And then, as if a switch had been flipped, the pain was gone. She opened her eyes and sat up, her friends instantly reappearing at her side.
The pain had been so bad before she hadn't even realized they had left.
"Feel better?" Harry asked.
"Yes, what happened?"
"You fainted, after the troll. Then the teachers showed up. Harry and I lied a bit, so we're not in trouble. AND we got thirty points each for Slytherin!" Tracey said in a rush, after looking around to make sure no one else was nearby.
There was a privacy screen around Hermione's bed. Through it she could see shadows, so it was likely the rest of Slytherin House was in the Infirmary. The lack of sound, though, indicated some sort of silencing spell.
She wondered if she could find and learn it for her dorm.
That thought went as quickly as it came. Her brain had latched onto one of the words Tracey had said.
"You lied? To a teacher?!" She gasped.
"Of course," Tracey said.
"Sometimes you have to lie," Harry said. "But there's more that's even more important."
That worried her. What was worse than lying to teachers about a troll attack? What was more important than the fact they had just survived said troll attack?
"More?"
"Snape came down that staircase, the one Quirrell went up. I got to thinking, and Tracey agrees, that one or both of them is after whatever Dumbledore has hiding in the third floor corridor. You know, that thing we read about in the newspaper at Hagrid's."
She stared at them.
They were worrying about the possibility of a teacher stealing something being guarded by one of the most powerful wizards in the world? They thought said possible theft was more important than the fact that the three of them had almost died?! That they could have been expelled!?
Her eyes narrowed and her lips grew tight with anger. "Don't you two care that we could have DIED?!"
"Well, yes, but we're alright now. No point worrying about what could have happened," Harry said.
Tracey nodded in agreement.
Hermione stared at the two of them, utterly flabbergasted. Her anger had completely disappeared in the face of this ridiculous logic. "You—you—"
"Mr. Potter, Miss Davis, Professor Snape is here to escort you and your House back to the dungeons," Madam Pomfrey said, appearing from around the screen. "Miss Granger I would like you to stay the night. That was a nasty bump. How's the headache?"
"It's—it's fine. Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione managed to say as she watched her two friends hurry away — not even saying goodnight.
It was now Sunday morning and she hadn't spoken to them since Friday night. She was angry, but it was more than that, she just didn't know what to say.
Shoving her thoughts aside she dived into her Charms essay, but found herself pulled back out of it a few minutes later by someone clearing their throat. She looked up angrily, a scalding line on her tongue as she prepared to tell Harry and Tracey to go away. Said line tumbled right out of her mind at the sight of five Hufflepuffs and one Gryffindor standing by the table.
"Mind if we sit here?" Ron asked. "The other tables are either full or have older students using them."
She looked down at the table, big enough for eight, but currently half-covered with her study materials. She sighed, "Fine, hold on." Grabbing books and rolls of parchment she quickly made room for them to sit.
Most of the Hufflepuffs were mysteries to her, she'd only seen them in the Great Hall or Library, but she did know the Gryffindor rather well.
"Morning, Neville. Did you finish that Potions essay?" Hermione asked as Neville took a seat across from her.
He shook his head, "Not yet. I only read the chapter. Planned to wait until this morning so I could ask Draco a question. He's as good at Potions as you are. What are you working on?"
She glanced around the Hufflepuffs, noticing that there was no silver-haired Malfoy. Which was odd, as she'd never seen him far from the red-haired Weasley. "Where is Draco? I thought he and Ron were inseparable."
"He got a package from his cousin. Sweets, so Pince would flip if he brought them here. He just ran down to our common room, he'll be here soon," Ron answered, though she hadn't addressed the question to him."By the way, did you finally ditch that Davis girl? Did she insult you too?"
Hermione wrinkled her nose, conflicted. Did she defend Tracey? They were currently at odds and Tracey had been unwilling to apologize to Ron. But she really couldn't go into why they were at odds. Getting them in trouble now, after the lies, was not a good idea. So, she simply shrugged, "We've had a difference of opinion. We'll get over it. By the way, she says she didn't mean to insult you. Draco's dad was really mean to her dad at Hogwarts. And Tracey is protective of Harry."
"Then she should apologize," one of the Hufflepuff girls said flatly. It was the one with long dirty blonde hair, held back in a plait.
"Yes, she should," said the dark-haired, aristocratic looking boy.
The other two nodded in agreement and Hermione felt her face heat up. She agreed with them, but she also felt like it was wrong to let others correct her friend. Flustered, she stood up, "I'll leave you the table and go study in the common room."
"Hermione, you don't have to go," Neville said, throwing his Hufflepuff friends a nervous glance.
She quickly stuffed her things in her bag. "No worries, Neville. I left my spare parchment in my dormitory. I'll see you around, okay? Bye."
She was out of the library before she realized she'd been putting her spare parchment in her bag when she'd said goodbye. Oh, yes, she was just a marvelous liar, wasn't she?
That thought brought back Harry and Tracey's thoughts on lying and just why they had lied two days ago. She felt less conflicted now. She'd sit with them at breakfast tomorrow and give them an earful on the importance of life, but maybe they were onto something about this possible theft.
She turned a corner and stopped when she realized she was on the third floor and the door in front of her was to the forbidden corridor.
Just what was behind that door?
Sort of curious, she walked up and pressed her ear to the door. Hearing nothing she tried the handle, but found it locked. Next she crouched down and looked through the keyhole. Like one of the characters in an old mystery novel. It took her a moment to realize what she was looking at as the keyhole gave an extremely limited view.
She froze, fear flooding her as she took in the fact that there was a gigantic three-headed dog inside of Hogwarts.
Why?
What was so important to warrant two dangerous magical creatures?
Because she knew the troll was connected to what was behind this door somehow. Shivering she yanked her gaze away from the dog and searched the room he was in. She almost missed it, but the glint of metal hinges in the light caught her gaze. The dog was standing on a trap door.
Standing up she walked away. Her thoughts were conflicted. Before Halloween she'd always thought being in trouble in school was the worst thing that could happen. For the past day she'd thought dying was actually the worst thing. But now, after seeing that the Headmaster was keeping a giant three-headed dog in the school, she had to wonder. Could someone stealing whatever the dog was guarding possibly be worse than almost dying?
That bore some thought. And — possibly — some research.
oXoXoXo
Draco didn't know how long it took to compose himself enough to stand and leave the broom cupboard. He did know that it took at least three chocolate frogs to even consider leaving the small room. And another two before he was able to stand up and straighten out his robes.
Once on his feet he took several deep breathes, shoved his fear in a box, and put his wand back on his hip. Before Barrow and Montague had come along he'd felt invincible with his wand. Now…
Now he didn't.
Hefting the box of sweets he left the broom cupboard and hurried to the Hufflepuff Common Roon. Every little sound made him jump and look around nervously and he breathed a huge sigh of relief as he knocked on the barrel to enter the common room.
The room was mostly empty, just a few upperclassman using it. He didn't take the time to look around as he hurried to his room. Once there he shut and latched the door, pressing his back to it and taking deep breathes, letting the familiar comfort of his home away from home soak into him.
Feeling better, he put the box on top of his trunk and sat at his desk. First he wrote a quick thank you note to Dora. He knew he'd tell Ron about what had happened, but he needed a cover story with the others on why he was late. And he didn't want to lie.
Note finished, he tucked it to the side and pulled out another piece of parchment and began to write. He made sure not to leave out a single detail as he wrote. Just like he would do if he was sitting in Uncle Frank's office and actually talking to the man. It hurt to relive it, tears burned at his eyes as went over the helplessness and pain brought on by the attack, followed by the relief at being rescued by Percy and Clearwater.
When he was finished he was shaking, but he already felt better. It went against his natural inclination to look closely at his feelings and relive his worst moments, but he knew that he had to do it.
Uncle Frank called it cathartic.
Carefully he folded up the parchment and wrote a short note to Uncle Frank, telling him that he felt better already, but he still wanted advice.
He slipped the letters into his bag before going into the small toilet attached to their room and washing his face. Looking in the mirror he could tell that he had been crying, but hopefully that look would leave him by the time he ran up to the owlry and back to the library.
Feeling better, he left the common room, not noticing the worried look Cedric gave him from his spot studying by the fireplace.
oXoXoXo
Narcissa was bored. It had been two long months since Draco had gone off to Hogwarts and there were just so many hours she could spend reading, taking care of the books, or visiting her sister.
Not that she'd ever tell Andy that. Still, she couldn't help but sigh in boredom as she looked out over the Tonks small back garden.
"You know, if you're bored, I can find you something to do," Andy said, making Narcissa jump. She'd thought her sister was still inside, putting tea together.
"Do you have to walk so quietly?" she grumbled.
Andy laughed, "I wasn't walking quietly. You're just too stuck in your own thoughts. You're bored, aren't you? The last decade was spent centered around your son and now you have too much time on your hands." When Narcissa said nothing, her sister continued, "I had the same issue. It's why I got into editing. I could work from home, so no issues during the summer, but it kept me busy. Do you want me to give you some work? I know you had as many English lessons as I did growing up."
Narcissa thought about that. She'd never worked a day in her life. Not after leaving Hogwarts. "What does editing entail?"
"I work with the writers as they plan their story. Then I read it after they finish, as well as during the process. Together we make sure the story flows well. Most of my clients are native English speakers, but a few of them aren't. They mostly publish nonfiction, so I also see about getting beta readers that are knowledgeable in the content area. If you want, I can let you work with one of my clients. It's easy to edit her work as her novels are published in French first and her French editor is very good."
"Why does she need an English editor?" Narcissa asked, curious.
"Alianore is bilingual and her English is quite good, so she translates her own work. Something about artistic integrity. She needs me to ensure that the story still makes sense. Not to mention all the other little issues that occur in a translated work. Interested? I have her latest story on my desk. It's quite good. I gave it a quick read-through, but haven't started working on it yet."
Slowly Narcissa nodded, it wouldn't hurt to at least read this story. And it would be something for her to do at home, while Draco was away.
"I'll be right back then, help yourself to some tea," Andy said as she stood up and strode into the house.
Narcissa watched her go, wondering just how she felt at the idea of working. It wasn't unpleasant, but it wasn't anything she'd considered doing before. Well, she'd just have to read this Alianore's novel and decide if this sounded interesting.
Andy came back and handed over a thick pile of papers bound together with some odd metal pieces. "Here's the manuscript. I made a copy so you can keep this one. Take it home, read it over, and let me know. If you're interested we can take a trip over to France and meet her for tea. Alianore will need to approve you taking over, though you'll be working under me so we won't have to redraw the contract."
Narcissa set down her teacup and picked up the manuscript she saw that it was titled 'Little Ones' by Alianore Roux.
"Why does the name Roux sound familiar?"
"You've likely heard Draco or Ron going on about Zackarie Roux. He's a French Keeper and has the highest record for saved goals in a single game of Quidditch. Alianore is his older sister."
"Ah, I see." She slipped the manuscript into her purse and picked her teacup back up. "Now, enough about work." She smiled as those words crossed her own lips, "How is Nymphadora doing in auror training?"
Author's Note: Hope ya'll had a good week!
