A/N: I decided to post this one early. Tomorrow's a busy day for me & I it was either post today or Thursday &, well, here we are. (:
Thank you again for the reviews/favorites/follows! They're amazing! Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Enjoy & see y'all next Wednesday!
Characters belong to JK Rowling!
The Chamber of Secrets - part 1
. . . .
"Wait, what?"
Draco sighed as he began to levitate his trunk, placing it on the rack above the seat in the compartment they were occupying.
"Albus Dumbledore was summoned when a witch found James Evans wandering Diagon Alley. Said he was in a daze."
"Okay," Hermione said slowly. "And— what, Dumbledore—"
"Was able to help Evans retain most of his memories— apparently someone casted an obliviate charm on the sod."
Breathing heavily, Hermione cut in, asking, "what does that mean, Draco."
If Evans had his memories back, he would remember what she had done which could get her locked up in Azkaban or worse, expelled from Hogwarts.
How was it possible for Dumbledore to reverse a memory charm? It couldn't have been possible, she would know, it was one of the first lessons Tom had taught her about memory charms including Occlumency and Legilimency during her summer break. There was no way for him to find a way past her Obliviation spell— she was taught by Tom Riddle, The Dark Lord, himself.
But then, Tom wanted to be rid of Dumbledore because he was the only wizard that was capable of taking The Dark Lord down.
Hermione had underestimated him which was such a stupid thing to do. She should've known better.
"What do you think it means, Mi," Draco bit out, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Do you not own a Daily Prophet?"
"What the bloody hell do you think, Dray!" Hermione snarled. "I live with muggles in an orphanage!"
"Well, it's your fault, isn't it!" He shouted back, clearly spooked. For what— she hadn't a clue, it wasn't as if he casted the spell. "What were you thinking! That's Dumbledore's prodigy! Of course, he would—"
"I know that, wanker!" Hermione growled, running her fingers through her tangled curls. "Just— shut up, I need to think."
"Yeah, you—"
The compartment door opened and Harry stepped in, The Daily Prophet in hand. "Hey, you guys read about what happened to Evans?" He chuckled, missing the look Hermione shared with Draco, as he pushed his trunk on top of the rack. "What an idiot. Who gets themselves obliviated in Diagon Alley, of all places!" He scoffed. "Stupid Gryffindor."
As Harry took his seat next to Draco, Theo walked in, grimacing. He rolled his trunk in, shoving it under the seat as he stepped to the side revealing Greengrass.
Hermione shook her head. "Now right now, Greengrass. Come back in twenty."
"But—"
"Now," Hermione ordered, glaring at the blonde chit. "And bring Pans on your way back."
The girl nodded as she backed out, closing the compartment door behind her.
Theo sat down next to Hermione, his brows furrowed. "What's wrong?"
Draco chuckled, shaking his head. "Everything! We're doomed and we've barely—"
"Draco," Hermione snarled, "shut up before I make you!"
The two glared at one another, ignoring Harry and Theo who were staring, baffled, by what was happening. She still didn't understand the reason why he was so worked up over it. Again, he wasn't the one who casted the spell.
Harry whistled, leaning back as he threw his feet up next to Hermione, smirking. "I missed something and I wish I hadn't. Tell me. Please. I need this drama."
"Oh, shut up, Hadrian!" Draco snapped.
"Oh, ho!" Harry laughed, enjoying the antagonism between her and Draco. He lifted an eyebrow at the blonde who was still having a stare down with Hermione. "What did you do? You had to have done something stupid because, well, you're stupid."
"Hades," Theo said, shaking his head. "Shut up, yeah?"
"But—"
Groaning loudly, Hermione threw her hands up in the air. "I'm the one who obliviated Evans at Diagon!"
The compartment was silent including Harry who was just laughing a few seconds before she blurted out the truth— Draco still scowling at her.
"Tell me you're lying." Theo said, his voice dull as he stared at Hermione in horror. "Or tell me you used a different wand."
Pinching the bridge of her nose, she shook her head.
"What the bloody hell, Mi!" Theo boomed. "You can be expelled!"
"But she isn't," Harry said quietly.
Hermione looked up at that and asked, "what do you mean?"
"It means," Harry said, glaring at Hermione, all humor washed away from his face, "either they're bloody well on to us or Evans didn't tell anyone what happened. You better hope for the latter, Mi and figure out why he hadn't said a word against you."
"Us?" Hermione shook her head. "You three had—"
"When are you going to get it, Mi!" Draco snapped angrily. "We're a bloody team! Of course if one of us goes down, we all do and what you did, you ruined it!"
"I'll fix it," she said, nodding her head in determination.
Theo scoffed. "How are—"
"I said I'll fix it," Hermione repeated more firmly.
"I'll fix it."
. . . .
Without the journal, Hermione was unable to inform Tom what had occurred. More than anything, Hermione wished Tom would've told her of his plans. She wished she had kept the journal so she could talk to someone who could at least help her out of the situation she was in— or at the very least give her solid advice. But then again, Tom might have cruciod her for being incompetent.
Sitting in her bed, mindlessly petting Nagini, Hermione couldn't get rid of Dumbledore's piercing, twinkling blue eyes staring at her during the welcome back feast out of her head.
He knew.
Dumbledore knew what she had done or she assumed he knew, why else would he have been drilling her with his skeptical stare. Hermione was an idiot and didn't know a way to win back the upper hand— there wasn't a way. She was only 12 while Dumbledore was well in his hundreds, well, what looked like to be in his hundreds. He had way more experience than she did. He had witnessed a century or two!
There was no way she would approach Evans while she could feel his heated glare in The Great Hall. Hermione was too much of a coward to look his way.
Never mind they had flown a flying car to Hogwarts without consequences because they missed the Express, she thought for sure the two idiots— Evans and Weasley, that was, would be expelled indefinitely.
Dumbledore's pets, indeed.
She was quite positive their friendship was over. Gods, what a mess.
. . . .
Hermione, along with her house-mates, erupted into laughter at Weasley's howler. His mother's voice was awfully shrilly.
A package dropped in her lap and she stared at it, shocked. Who would be sending her gifts? She didn't know anyone in the wizarding world that liked her.
"Who's it from then?" Harry asked, grabbing the white envelope attached to it. "Huh. Ollivander."
Hermione snatched the letter back and quickly pocketed the wrapped gift. She opened the envelope and smiled.
Miss Granger,
I was delighted to receive your letter and I must say, I'm quite thrilled you've mastered your wand— I always knew you could dear!
A friend of mine in Jixi, China, a Wandmaker such as myself, has gifted me a peculiar wand—for research purposes, you understand? Red Wood, 13 inches, Runespoor fang as it's core. I was instantly reminded of you, Miss Granger, and thought an early birthday present was amiss. Enjoy it, will you?
How did he know her birthday was coming up?
I'm sure I need not remind you of keeping this tidbit a secret?
Write soon my dear. I do so enjoy hearing from you.
Garrick Ollivander
PS Burn this.
PPS Happy early birthday, Miss Granger.
Hermione smiled, crumbling up the note.
"Are you actually friends with that old man?" Draco asked, clearly stunned.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione ignored him as she swiftly plopped a grape in her mouth. She couldn't wait to examine her gift in the privacy of her bed chambers.
. . . .
"Look at that tosser," Draco snarled. "Signing autographs and the like. Pathetic."
Glancing across the courtyard, Hermione spotted a small boy with a camera taking his picture with Evans, Weasley standing near Patil and Finnigan, fawning over him just because he was Dumbledore's favorite. How ridiculous.
"Leave him alone, Draco," Hermione warned. "I'm serious. Not until I—" she sighed. "There he goes."
Glaring at Crabbe and Goyle, who were chuckling against the stone pillar they were leaning against, she waved a hand where Draco had walked off. "Well, go after him, Crabbe! Goyle! Now!"
Quickly nodding, their face dumbfounded, the two boys hurried after the blonde pureblood who she would throttle very soon because he couldn't follow directions.
"They're going to be offended if you don't start addressing them by their names, Mi." Theo said, chuckling.
Snorting, Hermione said, "Where's Hadrian, then?"
. . . .
"Lockhart is an idiot," Hermione seethed, rushing out of his classroom after she, Theo, Draco and Harry had caught those blasted Cornish pixies and putting them back in their cages.
Harry barked out a laugh, throwing an arm over her shoulder. "Then how did you know that his secret ambition was to rid the world of evil and," he tapped his chin, "what was his second choice, help me here, Draco—"
The pureblood prat snorted. "Marketing his own range of hair-care potions." Draco barked out a laugh. "Where'd they find that guy anyway?"
"Travels with Trolls, Year with the Yeti, Wandering with Werewolves?!" Theo scoffed. "He's a fraud. It's all fake."
"How was I supposed to know that?" Hermione snapped. "Excuse me for wanting to be the best—"
"Doesn't explain the hearts, Mi." Harry said sympathetically, Draco and Theo laughing uncontrollably.
"How'd you know he was awarded with," Draco paused, "what was it again? Bravery Against Fantastic Beasts?"
The boys burst into another round of laughter.
"You arse," Hermione muttered, shoving Harry away from her as her cheeks turned on a rosy red. "All of you— stupid, stupid boys."
They continued their laughter as she stomped away from them, heading towards their next class
She burned her DADA notebook that night.
. . . .
Come on, Mi!" Draco pleaded, tugging on her arm. "It's not an actual game and, really, it's a surprise."
Hermione shook her head as she yanked her arm away from Draco. "I'm busy."
Harry snorted, sitting on her other side. "You're reading, Mi, in the common room… by yourself! Just come out and I promise you can wear my jumper."
Rolling her eyes, Hermione shook her head. "As tempting as that sounds—"
"Great!" Theo exclaimed, pulling Hermione up from the couch near the fireplace. "Let's go."
Sighing heavily, Hermione closed her book, shoving it in her robe pocket. Stretching her hand out to Harry, she said, "Give me your jumper. I'm freezing and if you're going to make me—"
Harry laughed, shrugging out of his jumper and swinging it over Hermione's shoulder before she could even finish her sentence.
Catching Goyle and Crabbe readying themselves to leave as well, Hermione groaned. "Do they honestly have to come?"
Draco frowned at her. "Don't be like that, Mi. They're my friends."
"More like pets," she muttered under her breath.
Catching Parkinson dawdling on the stairs, Hermione nodded her head over. "Let's go, Pans."
Surprised, Parkinson quickly nodded, rushing down the stairs, Harry groaning as he quickly exited the common room.
Holding an arm out, Hermione lifted a brow. "You can walk with me."
Parkinson nodded, latching onto Hermione's arm, her face etched in embarrassment. "What's the matter, then?" Hermione asked, sighing as the boys rushed ahead, no doubt to catch up with Harry.
"It's— it's nothing." She answered quietly.
Hermione snorted. "It's obviously something or you wouldn't look like someone has kicked your puppy."
Parkinson sighed. "Bulstrode and Davis. They keep teasing Daphne and I relentlessly because of what happened. Calling us traitors because, well, we sit with— with you and are cordial with… you."
Feeling anger rise within her, Hermione squeezed her arm. "Would you like to take care of them or shall I?"
Eyes widening, Parkinson began shaking her head. "No! I— I mean," she paused, glancing around, "are you going to kill them?"
Giggling, Hermione shook her head. "Of course, not. If I started killing everyone who offended me," she gave Parkinson a mean smirk. "Who would I rule?"
. . . .
Coming up to the quidditch pitch, Hermione lifted a brow at March Flint who was currently smirking at a red faced Oliver Wood.
"What's going on?" Parkinson asked.
Hermione shook her head as she stood beside Harry and Theo, the former throwing a glare at Parkinson.
"Fix your face, Hades," Hermione commented. "Like it or not, Parkin— Pans is with us."
"Brilliant," Harry bit out through gritted teeth.
"You've got a new seeker?" Wood said startled. "Who?"
"Hey," one of the Weasley twins said, "aren't you Lucius Malfoy's brat?"
Hermione gasped, covering her mouth. She quickly turned to Draco who was standing with his team dressed up in quidditch gear. "He made the team?!"
Harry smirked. "Yep. Seeker too."
Amazing!" Hermione exclaimed.
"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," Weasley snarled as he stood next to Evans. They got in on pure talent."
Hermione dashed to Draco's side, grabbing his hand as she scowled at Weasley. "No one asked for your opinion, you filthy cretin."
"Better a cretin than a mudblood!" Evans growled back.
"You're a mudblood, Evans!" Pucey snapped, shoving his way forward. "A bit hypocritical for you to fling that word around."
"Oi, watch it!" Wood retaliated, pushing Adrian back.
"You arse!" Flint shouted, pushing Wood back for shoving Adrian causing one of the Weasley twins to launch himself at Flint.
A fight broke out, Harry yanking Hermione back. "Let's go," he hissed, Theo and Pansy following behind.
"Eat slugs, Malfoy!" Hermione could hear Weasley scream.
"But Draco—"
"Can handle himself," Theo said, pushing her along.
Hermione paused as the fighting stopped and she turned, staring at Weasley who took on a sickly look, a slug popping out of his mouth. The Slytherin's began to laugh as Evans and Wood rushed Weasley away.
Catching Evans eye, he scowled at her, mouthing, this isn't over.
Blinking, Hermione followed Harry. She'd have to hurry and take care of him.
. . . .
"Hello, Ne." Hermione greeted as she sat down at the Slytherin table across from the blonde witch.
Greengrass gave her a confused look, placing her spoon down. "I'm sorry, but what—"
Hermione giggled, filling her goblet with pumpkin juice. "A nickname. The end of your name. Daphne." She shrugged. "Ne."
The girl blinked. "Oh."
"Still associating with filth, I see."
Hermione set her goblet down, smiling sweetly at Davis and Bulstrode. "Would you like to join us?"
"I'd rather die," Bulstrode hissed.
Hermione smirked. "That can be arranged."
Davis' eyes darted back and forth from Hermione to Bulstrode with an uneasy look as she grabbed her friend's arm. "Come on. Let's go sit with Blaise and Adrian."
"Tell them I said, hi, yeah?" Hermione said, resuming her breakfast.
Parkinson whistled. "Be careful, Hermione," she murmured under her breath.
She snorted. "Of those two? They're nothing."
. . . .
Harry shoved Hermione as he continued to make kissy noises. They finished their DADA lessons and were on their way to the library while Draco spent his free period practicing with his quidditch team.
"Stop it, Hades, or I'll curse you," Hermione muttered under her breath.
"I'm just saying," he began. "Lockhart would make—"
Pulling out her wand, she sent a stinging hex towards his bottom.
"Shite," he cursed under his breath, glaring at her as he began to rub his left buttocks. "Seriously, Mi, do you not know how to joke around?"
"No," she deadpanned. "Now shut up."
Entering the library for the first time since she returned for her second year, Hermione inhaled deeply, releasing her breath in satisfaction.
"Home," she murmured, grabbing Harry by the hand and leading him towards her table she usually sat at in the back.
Chuckling behind her, Harry took his seat across Hermione at the table, pulling out his potions book. "You're mental, you know that?"
"Do you want help with your transfiguration assignment or not?" She sighed as Harry began flipping through his potions textbook. "That's the wrong book, Hades." Hermione snapped.
"You know I do." Harry replied nonchalantly. "McGonagall is batty for assigning us homework so early on in the school year. Who does that!"
Groaning, Hermione began to unpack her bag. "Just shut up, Hades." She mumbled, "where's Theo when you need him."
"I heard that!" He said offended. He took out the right textbook and sighed. "Did you come up with anything to bring Evans down?"
Lifting a brow, she shook her head. "Not yet."
"Why don't you ask Tom?" He whispered as he leaned over the table between them. "I mean, he's bound to know what to do, right?"
Hermione shook her head again. "No, I can't ask him."
"Why not?" Hades asked persistently.
"Because," Hermione gritted out. "I just can't. Not right now."
"Why—"
She slammed her hand against the table. "Because I literally have no way to contact him!"
Harry nodded. "Ohhh."
Breathing heavily, Hermione rubbed her forehead. "You're causing me a headache, Hades."
"I'm just curious," he replied with a shrug. "Is that a crime now?"
"Soon it'll be if you don't knock it off." Hermione threatened.
Laughing, he said, "you still love me though, right?"
Hermione sighed. "Yes, I do, you prat."
Harry beamed.
. . . .
"Why don't you join a group activity, Mi?" Theo asked as they were making their way back to their common room after dinner. They decided to head back early to avoid the bustling students squeezing their way through the common room door.
She scoffed, "no, thank you. But you're welcome to it if you want."
"I'm just saying," Theo continued as they turned down the hall on the first floor. "It'll do you some good. Spending all your free time in the library—"
"Shh," Draco hushed, stopping the group from moving forward.
"Eugh!" Harry cried out. "Myrtle flooded the lavatories again!"
Hermione looked down, grimacing as her shoes began to soak with toilet water. She lifted a foot, shaking it as water began to drip from her mary janes.
"Disgusting," she muttered, scowling as she pulled out her wand.
"What do you plan to do with that?" Harry asked with a roll of his eyes. "Hex the ghost?"
Theo sighed as Hermione glared at her dim-witted friend. "It's okay, Hades," his brother began to pat his back sympathetically. "Some of us were born stupid, you know?"
"Look," Draco whispered horrified, pointing to the wall before Harry could reply.
There, written in blood,
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE.
The caretaker's car was hanging by its tail, dead.
"What did you do, Evans!" Draco said laughing. "Killed Filch's cat, did you? You're in trouble now." He sneered. "Along with your ugly friends!"
"Watch it, Malfoy," Patil hissed. "And James didn't do this!"
Blinking, Hermione looked away from the words written in blood, her attention focused on the three in front of them. She hadn't realized they were there until now, caught up with the message on the wall. That couldn't have been real blood...
Tom was the heir, Hermione knew that, but didn't understand how he was able to write his note. Patil was right. This wasn't Evans. It couldn't have been.
"You know something." Evans accused, glaring at Hermione. "Of course, you do, you filthy—"
Harry and Theo whipped out their wands simultaneously.
"I dare you," Harry hissed. "Finish it— go on."
Stepping back, Hermione grabbed Theo and Harry, pulling them with her, Draco following along.
"You know I don't, Evans," Hermione told him quietly.
"Give me the stone then," Evans snapped. "Give it to me and I won't tell Dumbeldore what you did."
Patil shook her head. "What did she do?"
"Why didn't you say anything?" Hermione asked, honestly wanting to know.
"Just give me the stone." He growled.
"James," Weasley said slowly. "What're you on about?"
Footsteps echoed throughout the corridor and Hermione pushed her boys back until she knew they were standing with the other students who had just finished the dinner feast.
"What did you do, Evans!" Draco shouted, loud enough for everyone to hear. "What did you do to Filch's cat?!"
The boy began to sputter as everyone started their pointing fingers and exciting whispers. Filch hobbled over, blubbering about one thing or another — "What's going on? Why are you all standing here?" — and stopped as he began to wail about his dead cat hanging from the torch bracket.
"Calm down, Argus." Came the voice of Dumbledore. "He isn't dead, just petrified."
Hermione pushed herself further into the crowd, along with the boys.
The headmaster swiftly detached the cat from where it was hanging. "Come along with me, Argus."
"My office is nearest, Headmaster, feel free to use it if need be." Lockhart said, stepping forward, his eyes alight with excitement. "It's the closest—"
"Thank you, Gilderoy." Dumbledore said with a nod of his head cutting Lockhart from finishing his sentence. "Miss Patil, Mister Weasley and Mister Evans, you come along as well." He turned to the group. "Prefects, show your house to your common room, please."
Following their prefect Hermione turned to Draco, chuckling. "You are a horrible boy, Dray."
He snorted. "Maybe they'll suspend Evans, after all."
"I doubt it," Theo murmured. "He isn't the heir of Slytherin, now is he?"
Chuckling, Harry shook his head. "No, he definitely isn't that."
. . . .
Hermione stared at the Weasley-girl the next day. She was currently sobbing over— what, she hadn't a clue, but she watched as the prefect boy, another Weasley in Gryffindor, continued to comfort her… awkwardly.
"Why're you staring at her?" Draco asked, disgust dripping from his voice. "She's hardly anyone special."
Hermione refused to take her eyes off the little girl, searching for any sign of Tom's journal.
"Hello!" Harry sang, snapping his fingers in front of Mi. "You with us or still drooling over Weasley girl over there?"
Startled out of her thoughts, Hermione nodded. "I'm here," she turned to Draco. "What were you saying?"
He rolled his eyes. "Nothing, mental girl."
Hermione glowered, pinching his arm.
. . . .
"Every copy of Hogwarts: A History is checked out," Harry groaned, slipping into the chair across from Hermione.
She lifted a brow. "Why do you want it so badly?"
"Uh, because." Harry said, looking at her as if she were stupid. "I want to know more about the chambers."
Hermione laughed, turning back to her book. "Trust me, Hades, there's nothing to know."
"You don't think it exists?" He asked.
Snorting, Hermione turned a page of her potions textbook. "Don't be ridiculous, of course, it exists."
"Then why—"
"Because," she cut in, unbothered by the conversation. "It hardly matters." At his defeated look, Hermione sighed, digging in her sack for her copy. She slid it over the table. "I want it back and don't you dare ruin the pages."
He beamed. "You're the best, Mi!"
Hermione snorted, "don't be too disappointed when you find absolutely nothing."
Harry ignored her as he flipped the book open and began to read.
. . . .
"What did Evans mean by not telling Dumbledore?" Theo asked under his breath during breakfast in the Great Hall.
Casting a glance at the Gryffindor table, Hermione narrowed her eyes as Weasley and Evans began to laugh boisterously— it was early in the morning, what could they honestly be laughing about? "I don't know, but I need to find out what he's up to."
"What does he mean by you giving him the stone?" Theo threw her another question. "You're hiding something—"
"Later," Hermione hissed as Parkinson and Greengrass joined them, blurry eyed and yawning.
"Theo gave her a curt nod. "Remember, no more lies, no more secrets."
Hermione sighed, picking up her goblet and downing her pumpkin juice.
. . . .
Walking into History of Magic, Hermione sat with Theo, as she usually did in all her classes, as Harry and Draco sat behind them.
She took out her History of Magic text book and began to read on her own as their teacher, Professor Binns, droned on about the International Warlock Convention of 1282.
"Professor!" Patil called out.
Looking up, Hermione was startled that someone had interrupted his lesson.
"Yes, Miss—"
"Parvati Patil, sir." She introduced herself. "I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets?"
The professor shook his head. "My class is about facts, not myths and legends, Miss Parker."
"But—"
"You heard him, Patil," Hermione spoke up, cutting the bint off. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like for Professor Binns to continue on with his lesson." She turned and smiled at her professor. "You were just about to tell us what the sub-committee of sorcerers residing in Sardinia were about to commence, yes?" She began to flip through her notes, "I believe they tied in with the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards?"
Professor Binns blinked and gave Hermione one of his rare smiles. "Of course, Miss Granger— as I was saying…"
Catching Patil's eyes from across the classroom, flashing with anger, Hermione winked, blowing the Gryffindor a kiss.
"You're evil," Theo murmured, chuckling under his breath.
Hermione smiled, "oh, I don't know about that."
He snorted.
. . . .
They were sitting at one of the four desks in the common room— it was the second year's hour to study and catch up with the assignments they were struggling with or have not yet turned in. Not Hermione though. She was well through her second year curriculum and was about to begin third year's lesson plan.
Theo was sitting with Harry two tables in front of hers, telling the latter to keep his brother away because Harry was a terrible study buddy and knew exactly how to distract everyone. She opted to sit with Parkinson and Zabini.
"So," Blaise said, smiling at Hermione. "Interesting what you did in History of Magic class, Mi."
Unbothered by his off the wall comment, Hermione continued to finish her essay for professor Snape.
"Everyone was pretty upset with what you did," he continued.
"Once I begin to care," Hermione told him as she dunk her quill in her inkpot, "you'll be the first to know."
Parkinson snorted but quickly cleared throat, her cheeks tinged pink. "Sorry," she muttered.
Hermione lifted her head at that. "Don't apologize for finding something you think is amusing, Pans."
"Of— of course," she blushed deeper.
Catching Blaise roll his eyes, she turned to him, sighing. "What is it that you want to know, Zabini."
He pouted. "I don't like it when you use my last name, gattina."
"Ew, Blaise," Parkinson scrunched her nose, setting down her quill. "Do not call her that."
Hermione barked out a laugh and turned to Parkinson, smiling. "It's pretty demeaning, isn't it?"
She smiled back hesitantly. "Just a little."
The girls shared a chuckle and Blaise scowled, packing his book bag. "I know when my presence is not wanted. I'll just go sit with the boys!"
"Oh, Blaise," Parkinson snickered, a bit more comfortable around Hermione. "Don't be like that."
Harrumphing, Blaise stood, his chair falling back. "See you gattina's later."
As soon as he walked away, Hermione shared a look with Parkinson and both girls erupted in giggles.
. . . .
Pulling the curtains around her bed, Hermione took out the package she received from Ollivander that she had stuffed under her mattress.
Unwrapping it carefully and lifting the lid off the box, Hermione gasped. It was beautiful— the Wood was smoothe and white, not a blemish nor design etched into it. Even the handle was white, smoothe, similar to marble. It was beautiful.
Carefully, she placed it back in its wrapping and tucked it underneath her mattress.
She would have to send Ollivander a thank you letter.
. . . .
"— I can't believe everyone thinks Evans Slytherin's heir." Draco growled. "It's ridiculous. He's a mudblood! Is everyone around that stupid to believe him the heir?!"
"It's preposterous," Theo deadpanned, rolling his eyes.
"I just want to know who it is," Harry said quietly. "I'd help them."
Theo snorted. "You can't even help yourself."
"Shut up," Harry hissed, Draco guffawing.
Sighing, Hermione sat with her boys in the common room that was surprisingly empty of all students. She plopped down besides Harry, nudging her shoulder with his, smiling.
"What do you think, Mi?" Harry asked, throwing an arm around her shoulder.
Pushing him away, Hermione leaned back on the couch, narrowing her eyes at him. "You would really help whoever is petrifying the mudbloods?"
"Well," Harry cleared his throat. "Wouldn't you?"
"No," she shook her head. "I really wouldn't."
"But—"
Hermione lifted a brow at Draco. "You honestly believe mudbloods steal magic, Dray?"
"Yes!" He shouted, throwing his hands up. "Father said—"
"Who cares what your father thinks, Draco," Hermione snapped.
"You like them?" Theo asked, his brows crinkled. "Why when you know the truth of your heritage?"
"Honestly? Because for a moment, I thought I was one." Hermione replied quietly, staring into the fireplace as it popped and crackled. "Every magical being is important— even the ones born from non magical families. No one should feel like they don't belong."
"Even foul beasts and hideous magical creatures?" Harry asked sarcastically.
"Of course," Hermione replied, glaring at him. "Mudbloods are an anomaly. They don't belong in the muggle world because of the magic they were born with and they don't belong in the magical world because of bigots as yourselves. Why be rid of them when they're just like us? It isn't fair."
"Life isn't fair, Hermione, if you hadn't noticed." Theo piped in. "Besides, I've never had a problem with mudbloods."
Harry snorted. "Since when?"
Scowling, Theo said, "since father started rambling about mudbloods stealing squib magic."
"How do you know it's not true though?" Draco queried. "For all we know—"
"Do you honestly think muggles have the ability to sneak into a guarded pureblood home and steal their magic, Draco?" Hermione asked, shaking her head. "Don't be ridiculous. The reason there are squibs is because of your incessant inbreeding! Do you not know about shuffling DNA?"
"Er—" Harry shot Theo a look then turned back to Hermione. "No?"
She huffed. "Well, it could be the reason why squibs are born magicless and if we don't find a way to stop that and accept mudbloods, magic will die!"
"But—"
Shaking her head, Hermione stood. "If you're going to say something stupid, Draco, I'll hex you." She sighed. "Just think about it, yeah?"
. . . .
Hermione smiled at Draco, throwing her arms around his neck. "Good luck!"
"Come on, Mi," Theo muttered, pulling her along. "Hades is saving us a spot out in the stands."
It started to rain when Evans caught the snitch— even with the Bulger aiming towards him, it was obviously hexed, he was still able to catch that damn golden ball.
"If Draco wasn't busy taunting Evans," Harry growled. "The snitch was right behind his bloody ear!"
"This game sucks." Hermione muttered.
. . . .
"Did you hear?" Harry asked excitingly.
Hermione set her quill down. "No, obviously."
"The little first year who follows Evans around was found petrified." Harry announced wickedly.
"Let me guess," Hermione said. "Nothing is being done about?"
Harry scoffed, taking out his charms textbook. "Can you help me with this? Flitwick is merciless."
. . . .
"A dueling club!" Draco said jubilantly. "First meeting is tonight!"
Theo snorted. "I think I'll pass."
Hermione nodded in agreement. "Library?"
Smiling, he stretched out his arm. "Shall we?"
"Fine!" Harry shouted. "We don't need swots anyways!"
"Goodbye, Hades," Hermione snickered under her breath.
"They're losers," Draco said, hissing as Theo sent a stinging hex at his arm. "Goodness, those two have no personalities whatsoever."
. . . .
The next day, Hermione was sitting in the library with Parkinson and Greengrass. It was nice to get away from the boys but there was an awkward silence between them.
She had thought her and Parkinson had come to an understanding, but she thought wrong— clearly. Hermione didn't want to force them into a friendship, she wanted them to choose on their own, exactly what her boys had done.
Making girl friends had always been hard for Hermione— living at the orphanage with hundreds of them and she still was friendless, she should've figured out it would've been the same at Hogwarts.
She guessed cursing them and threatening them wasn't the way to go— but still. It was last year, surely they were over it. She forgave Alice Hilburt, after all, hadn't she?
"Hermione," Greengrass spoke up quietly. "Are you and Theo—"
Hermione blanched.
Chuckling, Greengrass nodded as she sighed. "He hates me, I know it."
As much as Hermione wanted to befriend these two pureblood witches, her loyalty would always be to Theo, Draco and Harry— even if they were complete tossers and irritated her to no end.
Shrugging, Hermione said, nonchalantly, "why don't you just, I don't know? Talk to him?"
"I do!" Greengrass whined. "He doesn't like me at all!"
Sighing heavily, Hermione began to rub her temples. "Okay, well, then don't talk to him."
Parkinson giggled. "You're complete shite at this, you know?"
Hermione scowled. "At what, exactly?"
"Girl talk." Greengrass and Parkinson said simultaneously.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione picked up her quill and pointed the tip between the two of them. "Finish professor's Sprout's five foot essay about Mandrakes and what they're used for."
Greengrass giggled. "We'll have you gossiping in no time, Hermione, mark my words."
Hermione hid her face behind her curtain of curly hair, smiling.
Maybe she would make girl friends after all.
. . . .
"He was found over the Hufflepuff's stiff body and he wasn't expelled?" Hermione asked, clearly impressed with the ties he had with Dumbledore. Although she knew the truth about the petrifaction of the students, no one else did. And it was odd Evans was found at every incident.
"Nope," Harry said, popping the p. "Such a complete git, yeah?"
Hermione snorted. "Innocent until proven guilty, I take it?"
Theo nodded, fiddling with Hermione's inkpot. "You've got it in one."
. . . .
The Christmas holidays had snuck upon them and Hermione decided she'd stay behind and plan what she would do with Evans, once again, putting what Mrs Daniels knew on the back burner— she'd get to it when she went back for the summer. She had waited, terrified, to see what he would do with the information he had against her— nothing.
He was planning something and Hermione was going to figure out. Yes, it was obvious he wanted the stone that was currently hidden secretly away but what else was he hoping to find? Clearly he remembered her failing at removing his memories, but what did he gang from keeping it to himself? To not involve his precious Dumbledore, he was an idiot.
What really shocked her was her boys staying behind with her, worried for her wellbeing— whatever that meant. She was very capable of taking care of herself. Besides, she wasn't incompetent. She knew Thoros Nott and Lucius Malfoy had ordered them to stay behind and find out what, exactly, was going on.
"Where are Hades and Draco?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes. "If they're not here in five, I'm not helping them with their homework."
Theo shrugged. "Beats me, though Evans also is here so—" he shrugged again, turning his attention back to his book.
Sighing, she leaned back, about to comment on his uncaring behavior, when the common room door slid open, Draco and Harry stepping through— awkwardly.
Her eyes narrowed, Hermione asked, "where've you been, then? The feast ended an hour ago."
Draco looked at her sheepishly. "We— we've been—"
"Looking for Crabbe and Goyle!" Harry blurted out, a little too loud. He cleared his throat. "Looking," he said a bit slower. "For Crabbe and Goyle."
Theo set his book down, his own eyes narrowed at the two prats. "Why are you acting strange."
Draco chuckled nervously. "No reason."
Sharing a look with Theo as the two boys made their way towards them, Hermione furrowed her brows as Harry leaned against the wall. They weren't idiots, she and Theo knew something was wrong with the two boys.
"What're you two up to, then?" Harry asked, his voice… off.
"Studying…" Hermione replied slowly. "Transfiguration? You're behind."
Draco slapped the back of Harry's head. "I told you to hurry up."
Theo lifted a brow. "Hurry up with what, exactly?"
"We've bumped into Evans!" Draco shouted, chuckling. "The tosser."
"Okay," Hermione said. "And?"
"Oh," Harry began to scratch the back of his head. "Er— nothing, I guess."
Furrowing her brows, Hermione lightly shook her head and cleared her throat, her face neutral as she took out her wand, fiddling with the handle.
"It's crazy what's happening with the Weasleys," Theo said casually. He turned to Draco. "Don't you think?"
"Totally," Draco agreed. "A bumbling idiot, the whole lot of them."
"What did you say Weasley's father should do?" Hermione laughed, slapping her knee. "It was," she waved her hand, "help me out here, Dray, it was hilarious!"
It really wasn't. Hermione had slapped Draco for saying Arthur Weasley should snap his wand and live with the muggles just because he found them interesting. There was nothing wrong with being a tad bit curious— even if he was Ronald's father.
Harry's face contorted into an angry scowl and quickly rearranged it as he chuckled awkwardly. "That's hardly—"
Theo pulled out his wand, aiming it at Harry's nose. "Who are you and what have you done with my brother?"
Hermione's wand was aimed at Draco, her eyes narrowed. "You must be using polyjuice potion."
The boys lifted their arms, sputtering.
"Oh, shut up." Hermione snapped. "Who are you then? I'll fetch Professor Snape right now and inform him someone has been stealing his ingredients to brew polyjuice potion in some filthy bathroom!"
The fake Harry blinked. "How'd you know—" he slapped a hand over his mouth, turning to fake Draco with wide eyes.
Draco scowled, rolling his eyes at his accomplice. "You idiot."
"Who are you?" Theo growled menacingly. "And where is my brother?"
They refused to answer.
Hermione sighed. "Come one, Theo, lets go fetch—"
"No, wait, Granger, it's me—" Draco threw his hands up, "Evans."
Keeping her wand trained on fake Draco, Hermione asked, "and who brewed the Polyjuice?" She glared at fake Harry. "It's definitely not Weasley, who I'm sure is pretending to be Hadrian. I mean, honestly, if you're going to pretend to be someone, at least know how they act, yeah?"
"Besides," Theo chuckled, gesturing towards his brother who really wasn't his brother. "Weasley can't even chop flobberworms correctly."
"Hey—"
Theo pressed the wand against his temple. "Where is my brother, Weasley?" He snarled. "I won't ask again."
"In— in a broomstick closet… on the— the first floor cor—corridor!" He stuttered. "They're fine, I— I promise!"
Shaking his head, Theo turned to Hermione and said, "I swear, Hades and Draco— would you like to punish them or shall I?"
Hermione shook her head. Leave it to those two dunderheads to be caught and drugged to sleep. Idiots. She would have to have a word with them later.
"You do it." Her attention back on Evans, she smirked. "I've been waiting for this, you know."
He snarled. "Go ahead and try again, you beaver face slag! I'll remember again and next time I will tell Dumbeldore!"
Hermione smiled. "You see, there isn't going to be a next time," she turned to Theo, her head tilted to the side, "Will there be, Theo?"
"No," he said quietly. Deadly. "There won't be."
Not yet, my little Hermione.
Wait.
"What?!" Hermione shrieked aloud.
"Uh," Theo looked around. "What?"
Let them go.
Patience, my little Hermione.
Gripping her wand in her hand, her body began to shake from anger. This was her chance to get rid of Evans and the proof he had against her and her siren was stopping her.
Do it.
Feeling a light jolt of pain pounding against her skull, Hermione flinched, lowering her wand.
"Mi—" Theo began.
Hermione shook her head. "We're even now," she said quietly under her breath, her voice angry.
Fake Draco sputtered. "Just— just like that?"
"Go—"
"Mi—" Theo began
"Go now." Hermione snapped, ignoring Theo as she watched boys rush out of the common room without a backwards glance.
Theo turned to her, an angry scowl on his face. "What was that—"
"Grab Draco and Hadrian, make sure they're alright." Hermione said evenly.
Without another word, she made her way up the stairs to her dormitory.
. . . .
Hermione was beginning to anger when she found out another muggleborn had been petrified.
It was Valentine's Day and Lockhart was an absolute nuisance. Never mind a Gryffindor had been petrified after the Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff quidditch match.
Whatever Tom was doing with that Weasley-girl, she had to stop it. She thought it quite funny in the beginning when the cat was petrified, but three students, a cat and a ghost? It was getting a bit ridiculous. Trust Tom to take advantage of the stupid red headed girl and rid away the mudbloods when the opportunity arose. What a prick.
Sighing as she passed the girl's lavatories on the first floor corridor, Hermione stopped as she heard a girl crying in the bathroom.
Rolling her eyes, knowing exactly who was blubbering in there, Hermione kept going until she stopped, pinching the bridge of her nose. She couldn't stand Moaning Myrtle and thought how pathetic she was, really, but she had a feeling to check on the ghost and, gods forbid, she was a tad bit curious.
Grimacing as she pushed her way into the abandoned restroom, Hermione gagged. The washroom was filthy and looked abandoned. The large mirror that hung up against the wall was shattered and the sinks underneath chipped; the stall doors were hanging off its hinges, the wood flaking— it was a nasty lavatory and it boggled her that not one professor tried to tidy it up just a bit.
"Hello?" She called out, walking further into the restroom.
"Who's that!" Myrtle moaned miserably. "Come to throw something else at me?"
Startled, Hermione shook her head. "Why on earth would I throw something at you?"
"Well I don't know!" She screeched. "Here I am, minding my own business and someone threw something at me!"
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Hermione breathed deeply. "There must be something that'll cheer you back up?"
"You don't care!" She began to wail.
Lifting her hands up, Hermione shook her head adamantly. "I do, I do," she looked around the room, "it's just—" her eyes narrowed, she dropped her hands, staring at the journal on the ground. She chuckled unbelievably. "You've got to be kidding me," she slowly walked towards the journal.
"That's what they threw at me!"
Taking slow measured steps towards the journal, Hermione carefully squatted, picking it up.
"Tom," she breathed, examining the diary. "What have you done, you idiot boy."
"The book is useless!" Myrtle cried. "Here I was, minding my own business and someone threw it at me!"
Rolling her eyes as Myrtle repeated herself, she pocketed the journal. Hermione asked, "you didn't happen to catch a glimpse at this person?"
"Of course, I didn't!" Myrtle wailed, flying about. "I was too busy thinking about death!"
Hermione nodded. "How'd you die, anyway?"
"It was horrible," Myrtle cried. "I was hiding in the stall— Olive Hornby was a nightmare, you know. Teased me relentlessly! But I was hiding in that stall right over there—" she pointed towards the middle toilet, "— and I began to hear a wizard, a wizard, can you believe it! In the girl's lavatory!
"He was whispering in a language I've never heard before! And when I opened the stall door to tell him to use his own restroom— I died!"
Lifting her brows, Hermione asked, "that's it? You don't know what happened afterwards? You just… died?"
Pausing her wailing and moaning, Myrtle tilted her head. "Well," she began. "I did see a set of large yellow eyes before my demise."
Her cries were loud as she began to zoom across the lavatory— up and down, one way then the other, her wailing increased in volume.
Large yellow eyes? There were plenty of different creatures that had yellow eyes, but large? How large? That piece of information was useless.
"How sad," Hermione murmured, glancing around. "You don't know anything else?"
It was quite odd to find Tom's journal tossed away on this floor in this restroom. Why not in the rubbage or outside in the Black Lake? What made Weasley choose this restroom knowing Moaning Myrtle haunted it?
"Of course not!" She weeped. "Only that it took them months to find me!"
"Now that's ridiculous!" Hermione scoffed. "You can't be serious."
"Oh, but I am!" She yowled. "No one cared! No one cared at all—" she paused her moping, "what's your name again?"
"Er—" she was caught off guard by her sudden change of voice. "Hermione."
"Oh, Hermione!" She cried. "It was just the saddest thing!"
Covering her mouth, Hermione nodded. She wanted to laugh so badly, but knew it wouldn't help at all. She didn't want to upset the dramatic ghost.
"Did you catch a glimpse of the boy?" Hermione cleared her throat, her lips pursed. She was beginning to lose her control and burst into giggles.
"Of course, I did! I peeked through the cracks of the stall door!" Myrtle shouted. "He was standing over there by that sink!"
Hermione tilted her head and ignored Moaning Myrtle who began to wail even louder, if that were even possible, as she inspected the sink she had pointed to. It had a serpent on the faucet and Hermione narrowed her eyes.
Chamber.
Open.
It couldn't be, could it? Did she randomly stumble across the Chamber of Secrets on her late night stroll through the castle? Oh, this was too good. It also explained why Ginny Weasley had come here.
How to go about keeping Myrtle quiet about it. Hermione wouldn't put it past the ghost to open her big mouth.
"Myrtle," Hermione said, glancing over her shoulder. "We're friends, right?"
"No! I don't even—"
"But I've listened to your story," Hermione interjected. "I think that counts for something, don't you?"
Myrtle tilted her head, smiling. "I suppose."
"How about we make a deal," Hermione suggested, lifting an eyebrow in amusement. "You keep our little encounter between us a secret and I'll come visit you every Friday night and you can moan and wail and yowl all your problems to me."
Tilting her head, Myrtle slowly nodded. "You promise? It gets quite lonely and," she sighed theatrically, floating about. "I just want someone to care!" She began to wail loudly and Hermione sighed irritably. "I just want a friend! Is that too much to ask for!"
Clearly, Hermione thought, her patience wearing thin. "I care," Hermione said through gritted teeth. "We can be the best of friends. I promise."
"Okay," Myrtle agreed quickly. "Do what you must. Your filthy secrets are safe with me."
With a devious giggle, she twirled high above reaching towards the high ceilings and rapidly dove right into the toilet stall she was killed in, creating a splash in her wake.
"Ugh." Hermione sneered. "Disgusting."
Open.
"Alright, alright," she murmured, irritably.
Pursing her lips, Hermione bent forwards, examining the serpent carved into the faucet as she trailed her finger over the design. What did it mean, exactly? She didn't have a clue on what to do. Obviously the serpent represented Slytherin which meant this had to be the entrance to the chamber.
Open, my little Hermione.
Open.
"How?!" She complained, stomping her foot. "How am I supposed to open it! What's to open!"
OPEN.
"OPEN!" Hermione shouted, throwing her hands in the air! "Open, open, open!"
She took a deep breath and hissed, "OPEN"!
There was a hissing sound, stone grinding against stone; a whoosh of air slamming against Hermione's face. She jumped back as the basin began to sink below, completely out of sight. A pipe was revealed, large enough for a man to slide into.
Gasping, she stepped forward, glancing into the dark unknown.
Chamber.
Go, my little Hermione.
GO!
"Bloody hell," she murmured under her breath, leaning over the edge as she squinted her eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of something down there, but it was too dark. "I don't know about this—"
"Boo!"
Shrieking, Hermione fell forwards, her screams echoing around her as she continued to slide down, down, down, twisting and turning; her stomach dropped, her voice was cracking as she continued her screaming— Yelping, she finally hit the bottom, rubbing her head as she sat up, the stone floor cold and wet.
Hearing a loud cackle reverberating from above, she cursed under her breath. "Bloody bitch ghost. No wonder she was murdered and has no friends."
Dusting off her black cloak, Hermione sighed as she pulled out her wand, drying her clothes. This was bloody ridiculous.
Glancing around, Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. She must've been way below the school. Walking forward, she gasped, staring unblinkingly at the giant snake skin that went beyond what she could see down the tunnel.
"What in the world—" she muttered, looking ahead as she walked along the snake skin, wanting to reach the end of the shaft.
It felt like miles that she was walking as she went further into the darkness, the snake skin ended long ago, the tunnel looping one way then the other. She let out a relieved sigh, smiling when she came upon a wall. There were two serpents carved upon it, their eyes glittering a green emerald.
Open.
"Open," Hermione repeated in a hissed voice and she watched in amazement as the two snakes parted, creating an opening.
Slowly stepping through the clearing, she gasped as she looked around, her mouth hanging open. She was in the same room she spent hours studying and practicing magic with Tom in his journal. She found the chamber in real life!
The journal, my little Hermione.
Nodding slowly, she reached into her pocket and grabbed the journal and carefully laid it on the ground. She flipped it open and watched as it glowed a bright white, a form materializing before her eyes.
The light went out and there stood Tom, a look of astonishment on his face as he stared at her.
His lips twitched into a smirk. "Hello, dove."