Peeling her eyelids open, Hermione felt like she had hardly slept at all. Finally, after weeks on the outer, it seemed that Harry and Ron were coming back round to her way of thinking after all. The reward for her apparent success had been a new book. It was so much better than that stupid text book that had been her consolation prize last time. Really a used copy of the sixth-year potions text, what had Dumbledore been thinking. Thank goodness for Umbridge and the Ministry it might have been the only thing they were good for. Now that he was thinking more Harry could see how the Ministry was explaining away the appointment of Umbridge as the High Inquisitor, but the part of him that was instinctively ingrained in fairness would still hate it. Despite what he had said that first day, it had only taken a week to emerge. With a sigh she reached over to caress the cover of the book that was responsible for her tiredness, To Curse a Man, once she had opened it she hadn't been able to put it down. Sure, some of the curse were particularly gruesome, but still, it was important that at least one person knew what they were facing.
Slowly Hermione emerged from her covers and looked around the empty dormitory. It was odd that she wouldn't have been disturbed by the others, making their way to breakfast! Usually they were so loud, perhaps they had noticed how tired she had been and decided to allow her to sleep in, just this once. That wasn't likely, as a group they weren't the most empathetic of girls. Dark circles greater her as she looked in the mirror standing out starkly against her paler than usual complexion. They would tell anyone who saw her that she had been up late last night, as a prefect that just wouldn't do! She wished that she had some make up to hide them. Maybe there was a charm that would cover them? Then she noticed that sitting innocently on the ledge under the mirror that Lavender normally used was a tiny bottle. Hermione peered at the label.
Perfect Potions- a foundation to match the skin of the discerning witch. Black, tan, pale, or blue blends to any skin tone. Bags and blemishes banished in the blink of an eye. Puts pimples in the past permanently. A witch's around skin care solution.
Surely Lavender wouldn't mind. Hermione opened the bottle and dabbed a little under her eyes, just to see….There it was perfect! She poured a little more onto her fingers and spread it over her face until her slightly grey skin, with the hound-dog bags under the eyes, was completely concealed. Now no-one need ever know she had spent the whole night reading. With a grin, she packed the book into her bags and ran down to breakfast.
"Hermione," a sweet second year called as Hermione arrived at the table.
"Yes Iris?" Really what could the kid want now? Wasn't the help she had given her in magical theory last night enough? Hermione threw her bag onto the floor under the table and fell onto the bench beside Ron.
"What!" Hermione said to the girl, ignoring the tiny child's flinch at her harsh tone.
"Um, well, you're on the list to help with potions and I don't really understand why …"
"Not now Iris, I'm trying to eat. I'll talk to you later," Hermione cut off whatever Iris was about to say.
"Ok," the little girl crept away.
"Couldn't you have been nicer?" Ron chided. "She was just asking for help."
"She won't leave me alone!" Hermione complained. "Ever since I put my name on that damned list, they all think it's ok to come and talk to me whenever they want! Don't they know I have my own work to get done too!"
"Well you did nominate a rather open-ended availability Hermione," Harry pointed out.
"And you can always take your name off the list or decrease your hours, at any point if you feel mentoring is taking up too much of your time. Someone else will help them out, there was plenty of coverage before you put your name on the list." Ron added, internally smiling at her scandalised expression.
"As if! You were barely managing without me!" she sipped her tea.
"Excuse me Hermione?" another height disadvantaged student approached. "Um I was thinking about the subjects for next year. I wanted some advice. Could you explain the difference…"
"Not now! Peta," Hermione snapped, placing her cup on the table with a firm clink.
"My name is Veronica!" the girl said, before turning away. "Wish I had gone to Ravenclaw!"
Harry gently caught her hand, before she moved to far, "Veronica, we would hate to lose you to Ravenclaw. Are you free after lunch?" There was a pause before she dipped her chin. "I have a spare then and if you meet me in the library, my friends and I can talk you through each of the subjects. Before then have a bit of a think about what you might like to do for a job, once you finish at school. Ok?"
He waited for her hesitant nod of agreement, before releasing her hand.
Meanwhile Hermione had stood shoving a piece of toast in her mouth and muttering that if she wanted any peace to do some reading, she wouldn't get it in the Great Hall.
"Do you think there is actually something wrong with her?" Harry asked concernedly.
"Reading before class, seems like normal Hermione behaviour to me, mate," Ron chuckled.
"Not that, Ron. You saw the way she talked to those two second years. She wouldn't normally be that mean. Would she?"
"It could be anything Harry. She has been a bit short tempered lately. Maybe it's because we haven't been hanging out with her as much. Dad's said that teenage girls can be a bit extra emotional at times…" Ron flushed red. "To be honest I didn't want to ask him anything about it. We'd better go, or else we aren't going to make it to history with enough time for Percival to set up the silencing wards," Ron grinned and tucked his feet back. "Ow! Ah who left a book under the ruddy bench… Um. Percival?" the sudden way his demeanour changed caught everyone's attention.
"What is it Ron?" Percival asked.
"It's a book but it feels…wrong….really, really wrong."
Percival stepped around Harry and knelt down to peer under the table. A book he was sure had seen somewhere before was lying on the floor. Removing his handkerchief from his pocket, he enlarged it and used it to wrap around the book to protect himself. As he stood, the boys around him all took a step back.
He looked at Harry, "We need to talk to Sirius."
"Now or will it wait?" Harry asked as he picked up Percival's bag as well as his own, knowing that a detour to the dormitory would make them late. Fortunately, it was Professor Binns so there was a good chance he wouldn't even notice.
"As long as we keep this safe, later is fine," Percival assured him. "Though I don't like the idea of it being around the school."
"Would it be safe for House Elves to handle?"
Percival frowned but nodded.
"Dobby!"
"Yes, Master Harry Potter Sir," the floppy eared being popped into existence.
"Could you take this and put it…" Harry stopped, unsure where the safest place would be.
"Put it back on the bookshelves in Sirius' library," Percival finished for him.
"Yes, Master Graves Sir," Dobby gingerly took the book, still wrapped in its 'kerchief and popped away.
Neville was staring at the space where Dobby had just been, "Let me get this straight Harry. After being the …was it secretary or treasurer…. whichever for SPEW, you've got yourself a House Elf. And your Godfather, the previously imprisoned but totally innocent Sirius Black owns that book?"
"Kind of. Dobby chose to bond with me, and because I…sort of got him freed, I couldn't really turn him down. Especially not after he explained the consequences of House Elf freedom. And while Sirius did not commit the crimes, he was imprisoned for I don't think anyone could describe him as innocent." Harry chuckled. "The Black Library has a stack of horrible books like that in it. Sirius banned me from going into the shelves where they are kept. Do you think she pinched it over the summer? I haven't seen it before so it can't have been in the family only section."
"I am almost certain that it is from the Library Harry. We will have to check if Sirius gave her permission to remove it. But first we had better get to class."
After lunch the boys had disappeared to the library and unusually Hermione had remained behind in the Great Hall, too preoccupied to feel even a twinge of guilt at not helping out Vivienne, Vanessa….whatever! Surely, they couldn't stuff up advice on third year electives too badly. There were greater worries on her mind. He had given her strict instructions not to leave it lying around, and now she couldn't find it! She knew it had been in her bag that morning, but when she had gone to take it out so she could read it during her break, it was gone. At first, she had thought that it had merely fallen out of her bag and so she had retraced her steps. Oh, it wouldn't do for anyone else to find it! This was the last place she could think of, she crawled under the table searching for it. With a groan she realised it was all for naught it wasn't there. Maybe it had fallen out in the dormitory? What if one of those bimbos had found it? Ergh, that just wouldn't do. The Headmaster still hadn't forgiven her for losing the other books, what would he do this time? She slowly made her way to class, feeling sick to her stomach.
"Sirius!" Harry called into the mirror, the minute the boys had made it back to the dormitory after tea.
"Pup! I wasn't expecting to hear from you. What is the matter?"
"We found something today. Hermione had a book that we believe may have belonged in the Library at Grimmauld. We asked Dobby to return it. Was it yours? Did you give it to her?"
"Ah, so that's what happened. I heard Dobby rustling around in there. When I spoke to him, he said that you had asked him to put the book there. Then he popped out saying he was continuing the search for the Potter Grimoire. There is no way I would have let anyone borrow that book Harry. Let alone a kid. It isn't quite a one-way ticket to Azkaban, but owning it is highly frowned upon, usually copies are kept in restricted sections of training libraries, like the Aurors. I do not care how smart someone is, no-one should be reading it who is not at least at a journeyman level curse breaker."
"What book was it?" Harry asked curiously.
"It was a first edition copy of To Curse a Man," Sirius said.
"There were some order members here when Dobby came by, so I will just check that I don't have two copies, before we go throwing accusations around."
He stood and the background changed as he made his way through the house. Then the mirror was placed on a table for a moment, before Sirius' face reappeared.
"Only one copy, so the question is how did she get it? It is one of the books that I had Bill check, and it was spelled so that it could only be removed by someone who was of age, and who knew the counter spell to the curse that was placed on the cover."
"Has Dumbledore been around recently?"
"We've only had the one proper meeting since you guys have returned to school, it was just last week. Of those at the meeting only Albus and Bill would have been able to remove the enchantments and Bill floo'ed straight in and out of the kitchen."
"Dumbledore must have got it then. Hermione had a meeting with the Headmaster, last week. After that she apologised and then seemed to start listening to us a bit. She had a meeting yesterday afternoon as well that I know wasn't a prefects meeting, because Ron wasn't needed. I had thought she was doing some mentoring, but maybe it was another meeting with the Headmaster."
"Well at least we got that book away from her, right? This was one of the texts that you didn't want me looking at, right?"
"Yeah Pup. It was fortunate that Ron found it. I'm very glad you listened to Percival and had Dobby remove it. I hate to think what could have happened if one of the younger kids had even touched it. This copy has a compulsion on it, to make you read it. Just keep an eye on Hermione, I don't know how long it would take to clear."
"Would casting finite help?" Percival asked.
Sirius looked thoughtful, "I'm not sure, but I don't think so. Blacks tend to be rather good at anything that effects how you think. I expect the counter is not that simple, however Madame Pomphrey is pretty good at breaking all sorts of strange enchantments. Are you ok now?"
"We just wanted to check if it was your book, Sirius. And to let you know what was going on."
"Sirius," Percival started hesitantly. "I found something worrying the other day."
Sirius looked curiously at the boy.
"Someone had tagged my core with a compulsion. It was camouflaged enough to be difficult to find but was not quite subtle enough to go unnoticed. Perhaps…."
"I'll be sure to check my core, not to worry. I will also ward the library against the removal of any books. The new catalogue system is brilliant, because as soon as a book is removed from the shelves it notes down, who removed it and how long it was before it was returned. I suspect this book was removed before the cataloguing was complete."
"Do you….do you think we should confront her about it Sirius?" Harry asked the question that was bothering him the most.
"That's hard to answer Harry. If you do, you could perhaps phrase it in terms of your concern rather than making it an outright accusation."
His Godson nodded thoughtfully.
"If that's all gentlemen, I had best go and sort out that new ward," he gave a handsome grin, his face while still lean was no longer as gaunt as it had been when they had returned to school. "Night Pup."
"Night Sirius," The mirror returned to showing Harry's reflection.
"How do we talk to her?" Harry asked softly.
"We start by finding her. Come on let's take our books down to the common room. Hopefully she will be there."
They joined Ron and Neville, who were seated on opposite sides of a table, engaged in a game of chess. Neville was losing, though not as spectacularly as Harry usually did.
"What homework have you got left? I've only got the potions essay," Harry said, rather pleased with himself.
"Herbology essay," Neville said with a grin, "I always save the best for last."
"Wish I had done that. I've still got History," grumbled Ron. "I couldn't face it, it's soooooo boring! How does he even mark them anyway?"
"I have completed all of mine. Harry, Nev, I can check over your Runes study sheets, while you are working on your assignments if you like," Percival offered. They both agreed happily.
Soon the group was working away, the ebb and flow of the common room relegated to background noise. An hour later a disgruntled Hermione stomped down the stairs.
"You alright, Hermione?" Ron asked.
"I've lost a book!" she complained. "A very precious book, that I had on loan."
Not wanting to turn away what seemed to be the perfect opportunity, Harry asked cautiously, "That's not like you, you're usually so careful. It wasn't a book on hexes was it?"
"Yes! Yes it was. Have you seen it? Oh, please tell me you've got it! I'll be in so much trouble, if I've lost it, and I just have to read it just one more time before I return it."
"Ah, yeah. I couldn't say that it was the book you are missing for sure, but we found a book left behind in the Great Hall this morning."
"Where is it! It must be it," she squealed happily. "Quick go and get it for me!"
"Hermione. There was something very wrong with that book. We're worried about you," Ron said quietly.
"It felt un-natural, greasy, " Harry agreed, with a frown.
"Pftt," she scoffed, dismissing their concerns. "You just can't handle it. It's ok I know that I can. Quick go and get it."
"Hermione," Harry said patiently. "It really felt horrible. We couldn't let you or anyone else be hurt by it so we arranged for it to be returned to the library it was taken from."
"What!" her mouth fell open in dismay. "No. No! You don't understand I have to have it back. Harry, I need that book. It has spells in that I have to know. And I have to give it back to…. "Hermione seemed to freeze just for a second before continuing. "Well anyway I have to return it to the person who lent it to me. You need to get it back! Get it for me. Now!"
"I understand you want the book, Hermione, but this isn't right. You're acting weird and we're worried about you. Besides, the book had been taken without the owner's permission."
"No, it hadn't, I got it from…" she quickly shut her mouth. "I got it from the owner!"
"No, you didn't, we spoke to him…."
"I don't see what your problem is anyway. It's not your book, why should you care? You just don't want me learning anything special. I can tell, you want me to be just as dumb as you, but I'm not. I'm the brightest witch of my age and I…."
There was a tug on her sleeve, the little second year, Iris, from earlier had appeared by her elbow, "Miss Hermione…"
"Go away, you stupid little worm! I don't have time for you. Find someone else to bother with your minuscule problems. Can't you see, I have more important things to worry about." Hermione was standing over the girl waving her arms about agitatedly.
Iris shrank back in fright, Neville reached up and gently pulled her out of harm's way. He led her over towards the chair Ginny was sitting on.
"It was Iris wasn't it?" he asked kindly.
"Y..yes," she stuttered, glancing nervously back at the bush-haired prefect, who was still clearly ranting, despite the fact someone had now thrown up a silencing ward.
"Were you still looking for help with potions?"
"Uh-huh, but…" she looked over at Hermione again.
"Yes, something is going on with Hermione at the moment and I expect they will be removing her name from the mentoring list. Now to be completely honest with you, I'm pants at potions. As is Ron, he's the fifth-year boys' prefect, however, this is Ginny, she is in fourth year. Ginny, this is Iris. I've heard that Ginny is pretty good at potions," he said in a mock whisper. "Ginny do you think you could lend Iris a hand, she has a couple of questions about potions."
"Sure," Ginny slid off the chair and onto the floor, so she could use a nearby coffee table as a desk and patted the floor beside her. "Come and have a sit Iris." Her welcoming smile drew a small smile from the shy second-year, who hesitantly sat down beside her and pulled out a text book.
Neville made sure Iris was settled before he made his way back over to enter the bubble where Hermione was still arguing.
"You had no right, to take that book away from me!"
"For the last time Hermione, we didn't take it away. We didn't steal it! Whoever gave it to you stole it. We merely found it under the table in the Great Hall and returned it to its rightful owner," Harry snapped. "Leaving such a filthy book lying around where any first year could have found it was completely irresponsible." His eyes narrowed and his face contorted in anger. Percival quickly grabbed Harry's hand and lifted it to his tattoo.
"What are you doing to him!" Hermione screeched, noticing the movement. "You're always doing that to him, always touching him! You let him go!"
She drew her wand and pointed it at the pair ready to blast them apart. Percival who had his both his hands on Harry, had no chance to draw his wand so swivelled quickly, turning his back to the girl and placing himself between the witch and his friend, bracing against the spell.
"Confr…"
"Protego!"
"….ingo!"
Surprisingly it was Neville who had the fastest draw. His shield winked into existence, reflecting the spell, off at an odd angle. It hit a couch which exploded, fortunately it had just been vacated. The seventh-year prefect was on the group in an instant.
"What is going on here! Hermione Granger, you are a prefect! Why would you believe it was ok to cast a blasting curse in the common room? I can guarantee that Professor McGonagall is already on her way and she will not be pleased!"
The portrait swung out of the way admitting their tartan clad Head of House.
"Eliza, please explain what has happened here tonight," she asked the prefect.
"Professor, this evening most of the fifth-year boys was studying until Prefect Granger came down out of the dorm and joined them. Apparently, there must have been some altercation but as they set up a silencing ward and were not disturbing the rest of the room. I thought that they should sort it out amongst themselves. About five minutes ago, it seems that it went a step too far as I saw Miss Granger cast a blasting curse at Mr Graves who was protecting Mr Potter. Mr Longbottom cast a shield, which did protect Mr Graves but had the unfortunate side effect of ricocheting the spell off, onto the couch. Very fortunately no one was injured." She nodded at the smoking wreckage of wood, stuffing and material.
"Sorry Professor, I didn't think about where it would reflect the spell and I don't know any shields that absorb spells as yet," Neville mumbled.
Professor McGonagall just stared at the fidgeting boy. "While, I don't appreciate a destroyed couch, Mr Longbottom. It is preferable to having to explain to the ex-President of the United States how her Godson came to be attacked while at our school. Therefore, I thank you for your quick thinking, five points to Gryffindor."
She waved her wand and a door appeared on the right-hand side of the common room. "In!" she ordered, they filed into the room ahead of their Professor.
"You will tell me what this argument is about immediately! What could possibly have caused you to turn wands on each other?"
"Well Professor, after breakfast this morning," Ron began, scuffing his feet on the stone floor. "I was standing up and my foot hit something under the table. Whatever it was had a bad feel to it. So, I asked Percival to have a look, because I know that he has had a bit more education on those sorts of things."
"It was a book, Professor," Percival continued the story. "But it felt all oily and ….well wrong. We all thought so." The three other boys nodded in agreement. "Aunt Sera had mentioned artefacts that feel like that shouldn't be touched by bare hands, so I wrapped it in a handkerchief and picked it up. Planning to pass it on to a teacher immediately. Once it was in the light I realised that I had seen that book in the …..Library at…..were we spent the summer."
"At Harry's Godfather's residence?" McGonagall correctly assumed.
"Yes," Harry took over. "So, I asked Dobby if he would mind taking it and putting it away, as it is obviously much more protected there and less likely to harm anyone. We didn't want some first year finding it!"
"How did Dobby find your Godfather's house Harry?" McGonagall asked in concern. "I need to know if this is a fault with the charm or…"
"No, he can only go there because I know where it is, and he visited me during the summer."
"But that would mean that he is bonded…."
"Harry James Potter! You enslaved a House Elf! How could you? After all the work we did on S.P.E.W!" Hermione reprimanded him.
"The work you did Hermione, for an organisation that you railroaded me and Ron into joining, without having the common decency to even ask if we wanted to be a part of. Hermione, did you ever bother to talk to any of the House Elves about it? And I know that you didn't, because Dobby and I had a long discussion about the implications of his freedom. Un-bound House Elves suffer from depression. Like Winky with her butterbeer addiction. They never get better, they just fade away. The only reason that Dobby didn't is because he had decided that he wanted to bond with me and was patiently waiting until I figured it out. He asked me and after he explained it I wasn't about to turn him down."
"No! You're wrong. Harry, he's brainwashed. You have to see that they will all be better when they are free! They just have to be made to try it first."
"Hermione, I'm not talking to you about this anymore. You never listen to what I say. Despite what you think I am not actually dumb."
Their professor stepped in before the argument could devolve any further. "To summarise this evenings disagreement. You gentlemen, found a book on some form of Dark Arts under the breakfast table and arranged for it to be removed from the school and returned to its proper place."
There was a chorus of 'Yes Professor'.
"Then what led to the smoking couch?"
"They didn't return it! Professor they stole it! It was loaned to me and I have to return it to the person I borrowed it from. They didn't ask, they just took it," Hermione protested. "And they need to give it back to me, because it is mine! My own."
This statement earned her a stern glare from the Professor, who raised her wand.
"Custos Expecto Loquentes. Sirius Black can you provide evidence that the book returned to you today belongs in your library?" Her sliver cat ran from the room.
A few minutes later a large silver grim entered the room, "I can confirm. The book has a dedication on the inside of the front cover, that reads: To My Dearest Cassiopeia, may you find this educational. Love Callidora." Padfoot briefly nuzzled Harry before fading away.
"No…no…it didn't say that it…it said…." It was clear that Hermione was lying.
"Miss Granger," the Professor said softly but firmly. "I'm going to take you to Madame Pomphrey. Such books often have curses on them, and I'm concerned you have been affected."
"I feel fine Professor really,' Hermione protested. "I just really need…"
"Gentlemen, you may go. I will take care of Hermione."
"Argh," Harry groaned as he flopped onto his bed. "That didn't go to plan!"
"It was lucky no one was sitting on that couch," Neville said shakily.
"Yeah. It could have been worse," Ron shrugged. "And at least McGonagall knows now, so she can keep an eye on Hermione as well. As can Madame Pomphrey."
"Yeah, I suppose you're right."
Seamus and Dean had been in detention for blowing up the charm's classroom, and so had missed most of the argument, only returning to the common room just in time to see Hermione blow up the couch.
"So, what's eatin' 'ermione?" Seamus asked.
"Oh, it was just a disagreement over a book," Ron said not wanting to go through it all again.
Seamus snorted, and began getting ready for bed. Neville was already lying on his bed practicing his Occlumency.
The time traveller made his way over to Harry's bed, "Lay down. Close your eyes and find your core."
Despite the argument, it was coming easier to Harry now and only took him a minute.
"Do you see all the tendrils extending from your core? Those are the vessels that transport magic around your body. If you follow them as they extend away from your core you can see they connect to every part of your body from the top of your head to your toes. See if you can sense your magic moving in them. I have always thought it looked like little bubbles of light." He waited for Harry to nod. "Now sometimes, very clever and subtle wizards can slip a little tap into your core, either to influence your magic, or to syphon some of it away. These spurs won't feel like your magic. They might be dull or flat, or just not the same colour or feel. Check every vessel. I want you to let me know if there are any that feel….different to you."
Studiously, Harry checked them all, then with a relieved sigh, shook his head.
"Good," Percival said, he was relieved. Harry could feel the other boy's warmth moving away as he made his way to his own bed. Harry turned his gaze internally again and continued strengthening the walls around the black pit that he knew was the horcrux.
Hermione Granger was not a happy witch. She fumed as she lay on the bed in the hospital wing. Apparently, it had been true, a lucky guess on Harry's behalf she was sure, that the book had influenced her. A fact that she knew now, as Madame Pomphrey had removed the compulsion and she no longer had the all-consuming need to read it, nor the possessiveness she had felt previously. All that meant was that she would have to be more careful next time. That she could do. Perhaps there were detection spells that could be used to ensure that the books she was reading were not cursed or even better there must be spells to remove the curses so she could read the books anyway. Yes, she was sure there would be something, after all curse breakers had to read similar books, so they would be able to remove the protections on tomes they found in pyramids and such. She would look them up tomorrow. There was bound to be some in the restricted section of the library. Surely, she could convince Professor Flitwick, or Sinistra to write her a pass. If not, Hermione was sure that Bill Weasley would answer her questions, he had always seemed like a sensible wizard.
The realisation that the book had been cursed didn't do anything to ease the anger, no fury, that Hermione felt towards Percival Graves. During the discussion with Professor McGonagall, it had come out that he was the one who had identified the book. Pftt clearly, he was wrong, and just as clearly it had been Percival who had convinced Harry to get rid of the book. Ron had of course just followed Harry, like he always did. Percival had to be deceiving Harry in some way. She still thought potions were the most likely culprit, certainly they would be the easiest to administer. It looked like her hand had been forced, she had no choice. She would just have to slip Harry a cleansing potion. In fact, Hermione glanced around the darkened room. Madame Pomphrey had gone to bed half an hour ago, now might be the perfect time to get one.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Hermione stood up. Making sure not to make a sound she crept over to the Potions store and slowly opening the door, tentatively waiting for any creak. To her great relief the door moved smoothly. A quick glance showed that the bottles were all clearly labelled, it made identifying the one she wanted so easy. Yes, with a snort at the irony she thought, it looked like 'the Gods' were blessing her actions. She reached in and took a vial from the back row. With a smile she made her way back to her bed, tucking the contraband into the side pocket of the bag she had bought up that held her clothes for the morning.
Surprisingly it did not take all that much to slip the potion into Harry's morning tea. Hermione smirked as Percival created the required distraction by pointing out an article in Daily Prophet that talked about the donations that Lord Black was going to make to Hogwarts. Ignoring the excited noises, the Quidditch team were making she merely tipped the contents of the phial into Harry's cup as she reached around behind the newspaper. The teapot that she was ostensibly grabbing, also hid any slight movement that would have given her away, from the other side of the table. Pouring herself a cup of tea, she smiled and waited, quickly slipping the empty phial back into her pocket. The text she had read said it would only take five minutes to start to work. And the affects should last about half an hour, which was fortunate as both she and Harry had a free period. After that she would be able to get him alone, Percival had volunteered to help a group of third years with Arithmancy. Then…Harry would have his eyes opened and would know what sort of person Percival was. Then… Harry would start looking to her for guidance again as he was supposed to. And then it would finally all be better, things would return to how they ought to be. Hermione just knew that if she could get Harry back on side, Ron would surely follow. With the pair of them listening to her again, the Headmaster, wouldn't be so cross with her. The last time she had failed him he had threatened her with punishment, and she was not at all keen to find out what it would be.
"You alright mate?" Dean asked from the other side of the table. It was beginning. Harry's face was and odd mix of green and red that could only be described as puce.
"Don't feel so well!" he rasped out, sweat beading on his brow.
Percival had him up and moving, without further thought, an arm wrapped firmly round his waist for support. "I'll take him to the hospital wing. Ron grab our bags, would you? You'll get there first, so drop our bags and then if you don't mind can you take notes in class if we don't make it?"
With an odd staggering gait, they left. Hermione's felt her lips twist upwards as she sipped her tea but, she didn't think anyone had noticed. Brown eyes watched, the red-head follow them out. Perhaps she could do a little…investigation while the boys were preoccupied. Dean and Seamus had made plans to go for flying and Neville had been asked for some Herbology advice by a sixth year. As if a blimp like Neville could tell them anything useful, they would have been better off talking to her but, she had plans. Yes, they were all distracted so it would work out nicely and as a by-product she would have evidence to show Harry just how much he had been taken in by Percival.
The two boys had had to stop at every bathroom on the way to the infirmary, but they eventually made it, with Percival having to carry Harry up the last set of stairs.
"What is the….Oh, Mr Potter!" Madame Pomphrey exclaimed as she took in his now puffy face. "What has happened."
Harry was wheezing and unable to talk, so Percival said, "It happened suddenly during breakfast, he had a sip of tea and then became unwell. I noticed his lips starting to swell so I brought him here as quick as I could, though he has been sick and um…..well you know. It took us a while to get here, because we had to stop so often. Harry collapsed on the third floor and I had to carry him the rest of the way."
"Oh dear, are there any messes I need to send the House Elves to clean up."
"No Ma'am."
"Well," she said as she waved her wand over a groaning Harry. "With vomiting and diarrhoea, if I didn't know better, I would have said that he had taken a cleansing potion. However, that doesn't usually cause the swollen lips, puffy face, and breathing difficulties."
"Could he be allergic…."
"Oh, my yes. Let me check. An enormously thick chart flew from the back room into her hand. Yes, I remember now. Lily sent me a letter, Harry had come into contact with some Elderberries when he was just six months old and puffed up like a puff skein. She wanted to know what she could give him for colds and flu as Elderberry is the component that acts as the expectorant in most potions. Unfortunately, I am out of the antidote."
The grey-haired matron ran to the only fireplace in the room, "Professor Snape!"
"Yes, Madame Pomphrey?" his deep voice could be heard over the gently crackling fire.
"I have a student having an allergic reaction, I need the patio…."
"Madame! I am in the middle of class! Can they not simply wash the area?"
"The allergen has been ingested Professor Snape. You know I wouldn't disturb you for anything less than an emergency!" she tutted at him.
With a sigh he replied, "I'll be through with the potion in a moment."
Two minutes later, the dour man emerged from the flames.
Looking at the boy recumbent on the bed, he said, "Of course it would be Potter. Can I assume that you have let his Godfather know?"
"Oh!" Madame Pomphrey started, nearly dropping the vial of potion she had taken from the man. "No, I will advise the Headmaster. He is the boy's Guardian."
Placing a hand gently on Harry's chin, she opened his mouth and tipped the potion in, before massaging his throat, to make the now unconscious boy swallow.
Turning from the bed she was confronted with Severus Snape, back to turned to her, head in the medicine cabinet. "You are missing one purging potion," he stated after a moment.
"What?"
"There is a potion missing from the back, here," he moved aside so that she could see the space. "I replaced all your potions last week, because they were out of date."
"Is there Elderberry in them?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yes." Snape turned to Percival, with a flurry of robes. "Did Potter think that he was being potioned?"
"Not that I know of. He was studying in the common room last night. There are plenty of witnesses as he helped several second-year students with their charms homework. He never mentioned thinking he had been potioned and he wasn't acting any different to normal."
"Kitchen Elf!" Snape called out. With a pop one of the Hogwarts Elves appeared. "Is the cup that Mr Potter had his tea in this morning still available?"
"I's checking," she popped away, only to re-appear a moment later wringing her hands in her tea-towel. "No sir Snape sir. Washing up is being finished. We's sorry."
"Never mind, you may return to your duties."
"I had several patients last night, though only Miss Granger stayed overnight. I wouldn't have thought she would steal something, she's always seemed so conscientious. They are such good friends surely it couldn't be her," the matron mused.
"What if she thought she was saving him? If she thought, he was being potioned?" Percival asked quietly.
The matron froze, then shook her head, "Well, in the end it doesn't matter how it happened. I'll need to keep him under observation, this reaction is more severe than most I have seen. Hopefully we've caught it in time. I'll inform the Headmaster."
"Madame Pomphrey, you do realise that the Headmaster is not Potter's guardian, don't you?" Percival
"Don't be ridiculous of course he is!" Madame Pomphrey stated, looking at Harry's chart.
"Actually, my Aunt Sera is currently. I can send her a message," Percival offered. "If you give me a note, I'll let our teachers know as well."
Scrawling him a quick note she dismissed him and drew her wand to send her patronus to the Headmaster.
Up in the boy's dormitory, Hermione was feeling frustrated. There was just no evidence of the boy's treachery anywhere. No random notes, no diary, no…..trunk? Well now that was odd! The boy was not an idiot, he scored….nearly….as well as her on all the papers she had managed to catch a glimpse of. Didn't that just add another twist to the mystery. Without access to books like the ones she had read, he just shouldn't be able to do that! With a huff, she pushed the thought aside, no he wouldn't leave evidence just lying around, it would be hidden in his trunk.
Ah ha. There it was. It was half the height of most, so that it could be slipped under the bed, rather than taking up extra room at the end of it. Getting down on her hands and knees she reached out…..
Zing.
"Ow," shaking out her hand she sat back on her haunches. "That sneaky little…." she growled, now even more determined to see what was inside, because surely Percival wouldn't have bothered to put protections in place if he didn't have anything to hide.
A moment later her wand was in her hand, and she was casting all the detection spells she knew at the trunk. It was a puzzle there was actually only a mild stinging hex on it, so that if anyone tried to touch it without the owner's permission, they would get stung. Huh! That was easy to work around, maybe he wasn't so clever after all. Removing her cardigan, Hermione wrapped it round her hand and grasped the handle…success. She pulled the trunk towards herself.
"Right, now let's see what you are hiding, Percival Graves!"
Hand still covered she lifted the lid, a shriek, similar to that a might make banshee was emitted by the trunk, surely that wasn't possible. She had checked. There was no known curses or wards on the trunk. With a growl, the lid was lifted again, the shriek echoed around the room before the lid was slammed shut a second time. Holding her breath, Hermione waited for the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, but none came.
"Well, I know how to fix you," again the lid was lifted though this time a silencing ward was placed around it. "Hmm."
Brown eyes peered into what looked to be the very ordinary trunk of a teenage boy, a mess of cast-off clothes and odd bits of stationary. She heard a tenor voice, drift up from the common room. She had lingered too long! Quickly pushing the trunk away and standing she moved over to Harry's bed and started rifling through his desk drawers (disappointingly these only had paper, quills and a few ink pots in them).
Due to their stops Ron had arrived at the infirmary well ahead of Harry and Percival, in the absence of Madame Pomphrey he had left their bags under Harry's usual bed. Then he had gone to join Seamus and Dean for a quick fly before he realised that he had left his charms text book on his bed and returned to the dormitory.
"What are you doing in here Hermione?" Ron asked, and she could have sighed in relief, as she turned around.
"I just wanted to borrow the map. You know Harry, wouldn't mind. Would you help me find it?"
"Ah….are you sure? I think Harry might have actually given the map back to Sirius."
For some reason Ron was staring at her forehead as he spoke, it was rather odd. Ignoring that she processed what her friend had said. Of course, Harry would give the map back to Sirius, he was an idiot! Maybe with the potions out of his system, he could be persuaded to write Sirius to get it. Yes, she was sure that he would do that for her, once he was all better.
With a flick of her hair Hermione left the room saying, "Well we had best hurry if we want to make it to class on time."
Ron didn't follow Hermione immediately, still trying to process what he had seen as he gathered his books.
Waiting impatiently at the front of the line to file into class, Hermione, didn't notice the murmurings behind her, nor did she pay any attention to the little squeak that Professor Flitwick made when he spelled the door open.
"Miss Granger, perhaps you would like to go and see Madame Pomphrey," the diminutive man suggested.
"But I feel quite well Professor, and I don't want to miss out on class!" Hermione protested, trying to step around the professor.
Eyes on her forehead he emitted a second squeak and stepped in front of her preventing her entry to the classroom, "I really think it is best. In fact, yes, in fact I must insist. Miss Patil, if you could go with her." He shooed them from the room.
"I…I…don't understand? I'm not sick!" Hermione complained.
With a titter, Parvati just smiled, "Don't you know?"
"Don't I know what?" Hermione was getting frustrated now. "Of course, I would know if I am sick, and I'm not!"
"Come on, it's an excuse to get out of class anyway." Grabbing a shirt sleeve, Parvati dragged the protesting girl through the halls muttering, "It's not my place to tell her! But it certainly explains a few things."
"Parvati, stop it! Let me go, I want to go back to class."
"Hermione, the Professor told me to take you to the Infirmary, and that is exactly what I am going to do! And I am going to do it as quickly as possible. Clearly you don't know anything about me if you thought that my comment before was serious. I may not love learning as much as my sister, but I am far from dumb and I was looking forward to today's lesson, so move that backside now, or by the Gods I promise you that I will hex it off!"
Not knowing how to take this attack from the usually happy go lucky girl, Hermione swallowed, and said "Ok," finally walked towards the Hospital wing.
Pushing open the doors, Parvati said, "Oh. I had wondered why Harry, wasn't at class. You know, last year after the Yule Ball I thought he was a bit of an arse, but now I realise, he was just shy and was embarrassed that he couldn't dance. Well here you are. I'm sure that Madame Pomphrey will be out in a minute." Task complete she left to go back to class.
"Harry!" Ignoring the departing girl Hermione quickly crossed the room. "What happened to you?"
"I was hoping that you or Mr Weasley would be able to tell me," Madame Pomphrey said as she exited her office.
"Me!" Hermione made her eyes wide in faux innocence. "You know me Madame Pomphrey, I wouldn't do such a thing. What's wrong with him?"
"Someone took a potion from my cabinet Miss Granger," the Matron said sombrely, "and that abominable person fed that potion to Harry. Who happens to be allergic to one of the ingredients. He is currently in what we call Anaphylactic shock and I am waiting to see if we were able to treat him in time, or if he will need to be sent to St Mungos to have all of his major organs removed and regrown as they fail."
"But he's going to be all right, isn't he? You'll discharge him tomorrow just like normal?" she asked hopefully.
"I'm afraid not, at this point I cannot say whether I will be able to discharge him…at all!" Madame Pomphrey said dramatically, trying to impress the girl with the seriousness of the situation. The message didn't seem to be getting through, it was very strange, and not at all what Poppy expected from Miss Granger. "Now why are you here?"
"Oh, Harry, wasn't in class, so I thought I would just pop up and see him." There was no need to mention that the Professor had sent her, after all she still felt perfectly fine.
"Miss Granger you expect me to believe that you, the girl that the Headmaster claims is the brightest witch of her age," Hermione puffed up in pride. "Is skiving off lessons to visit your friend?" Something vicious flashed across the usually motherly face, just for a second, as Hermione nodded. "So you aren't here to have me remove the word that you currently have inscribed on your forehead then? Good, I doubt there is anything I can do about it anyway. Off you go now back to class!"
"What!" Hermione screeched, running to the corner where there was a sink with a small mirror above it. There on her forehead in neon green letters was the word THIEF. "You have to get it off! I can't…How am I supposed to go to classes like this!"
"Hmpf, so you do want me to look at it then I suppose. Come over here and sit down," Madame Pomphrey pulled out a chair. "Let me see," she drew her wand, and waved it muttering a few words. Then she sighed, "if I had to make a guess Miss Granger, I would say it is timed. I've seen something like it a long time ago when I was in training. I believe it is an Auror grade spell. They use it to protect evidence lockers. The good news is, in the case I saw, the word faded after around two weeks, and no permanent damage was left behind."
"But I can't be out of lessons for two weeks!"
"I should think not. Are you feeling unwell Miss Granger?" The now tearful girl shook her head. "Exactly and so you aren't exempt from class."
"But I can't go around with this on my face!"
"Well perhaps you should have thought of that before you took whatever it was." Moving away from the girl and back towards the office, she said sternly over her shoulder, "And do not think that I am not aware Miss Granger, you were the only one with access to my potions store last night. In the future I believe I shall be implementing a similar protection to the one you have fallen foul of. The Headmaster may have protected you from punishment this time, if it should happen again however, I can guarantee that you will not like the consequences."
The door closed behind her with a loud bang.
The four specialist Healers from St Mungos had arrived midmorning and had spent an hour arguing over what to do. It appeared that there had been some damage to Harry's kidneys and liver, but two of them thought that they would recover if left alone. Whereas the other two felt that the they should be removed immediately before the death of the organ released toxic waste into Harry's blood and he died, he was already showing the prescence of a toxin in his blood. They were all in agreement however that they were being hampered by their location and that the boy would be much better treated if he were to be moved to St Mungos. A point Madame Pomphrey agreed with, but at the moment they were all being stymied by Albus Dumbledore who didn't want to let the boy out of his sight and had extracted vows from each of the Healers so that they couldn't talk about what had befallen the boy to anyone else. No one was allowed in to see Harry, who didn't already know what was going on.
It was lunchtime, before Percival was able to make his way back to the Hospital wing. Pushing open the doors released a cacophony of sound into the hall outside.
"Shut up!" he thundered. "How is this helping Harry?" he gave them his best, Senior Auror, 'bring the rookies into line', stare.
"They are trying to decide on what the best option is to treat Harry," Madame Pomphrey explained.
"You can't just tell the boy! What about the vows!" protested the Senior Healer.
With a wave of her hand Madame Pomphrey dismissed his complaints explaining, "Percival is the one who bought him here. He already knows most of what is going on."
"Have you contacted his Healer yet?" Percival asked.
"I am Mr Potter's Healer," Madame Pomphrey stated.
"While he is at school, yes. However, over the summer he was been being treated extensively by Healer Addison Hedgerow, for several ongoing conditions.
"Addison! Oh, that's good, can we get him on board I'm sure if we explain it right, he'll take the vow," the Senior Healer said, relaxing slightly.
"Healer Addison has already made a vow to Harry, so he should be covered already. Besides I haven't taken the oath," Percival added helpfully.
The Senior Healer had his wand out almost before Percival had finished talking, "Custos Expecto Loquentes, Addison old fellow, I need you to come to Hogwarts. We have a problem with a patient of yours. Password is Poppy." A silver serpent slithered through the wall.
Five minutes later a hawk patronus flew into the room, "Be there in ten. This had better be important Reginald, I've had to cut short my appointment with the Danish Royal family! You owe me!"
The floo flared, and Healer Addison emerged from the green flames, "Are you the problem Percival?"
Percival sombrely shook his head and stepped to the side, revealing the bed on which Harry lay, "Someone spiked his tea with a cleansing potion stolen from the Infirmary store. He's allergic…"
"To Elderberry, yes. Oh dear, let me see him." Addison opened his notes on Harry and cast several charms comparing the results to the ones listed in the file. He hummed consideringly and made his way over to where the other Healers had gathered around Poppy's desk. "How long was he exposed before he received treatment?"
"Oh Harry," Percival turned away from the Healers and picked up the pale hand. "The others can't come and see you just yet. I suspect Dumbledore doesn't want the bad press he'd receive if it got out that someone had poisoned the Boy-Who-Llived, while he was at school. With the High Inquisitor thing going on he can 't really aff…"
As if the mere mention of her had drawn her to the room, the doors burst open with a crash to reveal Madame Umbridge.
"Where is Mr Potter!" she demanded. "He should have been in my class this morning. I won't give him special treatment! If he doesn't have a very good reason for being here, then he'll have detention with me for the rest of the year. Well?" Her foot was tapping on the floor impatiently as she waited for an explanation.
"Unfortunately," Healer Reginald said. "The Headmaster has had us vow not to reveal the exact illness which has befallen Mr Potter. I can however tell you that at this point in time, we still don't know how long it will take him to recover. The illness is very severe indeed."
Another Healer added, "I would expect him to be unconscious and unable to attend lessons, let alone detentions, for several days at least, and this may extend to weeks, depending how well he responds to treatment."
"Are you sure that he is not merely faking it?" she sneered. "He has done that before you know. In fact I believe that the ministry would like to arrange a second opinion with one of our healers."
Addison was not going to tolerate that! "Madame, I am Healer Addison Baldric Hedgerow, I have been called here by my colleagues to consult on this case and I can confirm that the boy is indeed unconscious and unlikely to wake anytime soon. In fact, he may drop into a healing coma at any time. If his results deteriorate any further, I will be taking him to a better equipped facility myself, where I will medically induce a coma. At which point he will not return for some considerable time."
"Oh! Carry on then," as she turned away her smirk grew. Well it wasn't quite what she had planned for removing the boy, but it certainly opened up some interesting possibilities. She hurried away to make a floo call to tell Cornelius the good news.
It was late almost curfew, Hermione sat on a couch in the common room, with books and papers spread out around her. Truthfully, she didn't know herself if it was her sulky attitude or the word written on her face that was keeping other people away. She had returned to the common room after seeing Madame Pomphrey and had tried 'borrowing' some more of Lavender's makeup to see if that would cover the mark. It didn't! She should complain to the company about false advertising. In the end she had grabbed a cap and pulled it down over her head. Only to have Professor Snape, git that he was, make her remove it the moment she walked into the potions classroom. At least he hadn't laughed unlike all of the Slytherins.
Seeing Harry lying in that bed, had….well it had made something twist inside her. Was it guilt? That was a possibility. Though she knew she had given him the potion for his own good. The reaction was an accident. After all how was she to know that he had an allergy? Maybe she could ask Ron, if he knew what Harry was allergic to. That way it wouldn't happen again, after all as soon as Percival was aware that Harry had been freed, he would potion him again, so she would need to find a solution and the sooner the better.
Well she wasn't achieving anything sitting in the common room, staring at her books, so Hermione decided to go to bed. The mood in the dormitory was tense, but Hermione assumed that Fay and Lavender were fighting again. Surely a shower would make her feel better, and she could put the bad feeling behind her. Obviously, it wasn't her fault that Harry had been so badly affected, and when he recovered he would be potion free for at least a little, because Madame Pomphrey would be keeping a close eye on him. Then Hermione would be able to convince him that Percival was potioning him. As she prepared, for bed, she never even noticed the glares that were being sent her way.
"Goodnight," she said obliviously as she pulled her curtains shut.
Harry slept on, well more accurately he lay, blissfully unaware of the goings on around him. He didn't hear the arguments in the common room, or notice when Ron, Neville and even Percival broke down (in the privacy of their beds, with their curtains drawn) as the days passed. The longer he stayed quiescent the more worried they became. While in his mind, he was drifting, floating on clouds, nothing could touch him. It was so peaceful that he felt he could stay there forever. Until a black spot intruded on his peacefulness. An evil feeling darkness, that was growing. It was danger! If the danger could find him here, it could find him anywhere. What of those he had left behind. He suddenly recalled, a man, who had grown from being a skin covered skeleton into a handsome, vibrant being. A boy with red hair, and cerulean eyes, full of laughter. Another dark of hair, with kind eyes and a warmth that grew, spreading from his hand and taking over his whole body. Who would protect them from the growing darkness if he did not?
Crawling, pulling, writhing, he made his way back to consciousness with a gasp. The warmth was still there, he noticed as his eyes flickered open to gaze up at the white ceiling.
"Good to see you again Mr Potter," a familiar voice said.
The hand holding his squeezed tightly.
"I would like you to try and say something, if you could," the voice said.
"….w…w'tr" he managed to mumble.
Cool glass was pressed to his lips, and a few drops of water were dripped into his mouth. They were painful to swallow.
"Gently does it. It is very difficult to drink lying down." He was given a few more drops of liquid. "Take your time. Try talking again, when you are ready."
"W'at 'appen'd?"
"Someone slipped a potion into your tea. You had a massive allergic reaction to it. We spent two days, regrowing your liver and kidneys and you have been unconscious for a further two days. Percival here was beginning to worry about you."
"Persss," Harry murmured.
"I'm here Harry," his hand was squeezed once more. "Go back to sleep, you'll be better soon."
The warmth over took him and this time he experienced nothing.
She had snuck into the infirmary, it was demeaning really, but Cornelius had insisted that she take steps while the boy was vulnerable. With a curse she noticed the body that was laying on the adjacent bed. It would do no good to get caught. Walking silently, she made her way to the Healers desk. Stifling a giggle at the sight of the file on the desk. The silly Medi-witch hadn't even bothered to secure his file. A lumos, lit the page, as she read the boy's history, searching for anything that could be used.
