Hello people,
Sorry not to have published sooner but I was sick (in fact I burned out because in addition to problems in my job (Especially because of a particularly horrifying colleague!) I had to deal with problems in my family after a death).
But I have not forgotten you! Here is the new chapter. I do not have any more in advance but I will send an email to our favorite translator to know where it is afterwards!
Good reading!
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"What happened to you?" Ron asked a dishevelled and breathless Hermione.
"I had to return a book to the library."
"Oh," Harry replied casually, "are the two gargoyles at the entrance still trying to kiss whoever goes through the door?"
"Yes," Hermione sighed. "I wonder what's going on."
The two boys shrugged unconcernedly. They didn't know why half the castle had gone mad and they didn't care. Harry reached out to move his rook and Ron grabbed his hand to stop him, making him grimace in pain.
"Harry, focus. If you move this rook… what? What's wrong with your hand?"
"Nothing," Harry replied slightly too quickly, hastily yanking his hand out of Ron's grip.
Ron and Hermione looked at each other and sighed. Hermione sat down next to Harry and playfully swatted his shoulder.
"Don't be stupid. Show us."
Harry hesitated and then, knowing that Hermione wouldn't let the matter drop if he didn't show her, he held his hand out to her and looked away. The young woman lightly touched the bright red cuts and then read the words out loud. Ron went bright red with anger when he heard them.
"You need to tell Dumbledore about this, Harry," Hermione declared, her voice sharp.
"He doesn't care! I mean, he lets Snape do whatever he wants…"
"That's not the same, Harry – Dumbledore's hands are tied because of the law. But with this you should -"
"I'm telling you there's no point," Harry interrupted her.
"You should tell Snape," Ron said suddenly.
"What?"
"He won't like you being punished like that. Bloody hell, Harry, she shouldn't be teaching! Can you imagine if she did that to first years? If the parents find out…"
"I'm not telling Snape anything!"
"What about Dementia?" Hermione asked insistently.
"I said no," Harry replied firmly.
The young woman looked like she was about to argue, but Ron gestured for her to leave it. Instead, she opened a book about the magical abilities of common plants while the boys went back to their chess game.
"What time is it?" Ron asked twenty minutes later.
"11:30," Hermione replied distractedly.
"I'm hungry."
"You're always hungry Ronald."
"Stop calling me Ronald."
"It's your name, isn't it?"
"You sound like my mum."
"Since your mum is a remarkable woman I guess I should be flattered," hissed Hermione, who didn't look flattered at all.
"What's wrong with me being hungry?"
"Nothing."
"So why are you moaning?"
"Er… we could go to the Great Hall," Harry timidly joined in, not daring to add that he was hungry too.
Hermione shot him a look but didn't say anything. She stood up with dignity and headed towards the portrait of the Fat Lady without waiting for the boys, who hurried after her.
On the way they ran into two students who were complaining about Peeves. According to them, he was using enchanted water bombs that followed their target until they managed to hit them in the head. Apparently there was no way of escaping them.
Hermione frowned. "That's odd."
"What is?" Harry asked.
"Peeves is a poltergeist, he can't cast spells on things…"
"Maybe a student helped him," muttered Ron.
"That spell is too difficult for a student."
"Well I can't picture a professor helping Peeves," the young man retorted.
Hermione nodded; Ron was right, not a single professor would have given the unbearable poltergeist the chance to make himself even more unbearable.
They finally arrived at the Great Hall and sat down happily. Harry poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice and was taking a sip while glancing discretely at the professors' table, when Dementia walked in. The shock made him spit his mouthful out all over Seamus, who was unfortunate enough to be sitting opposite him. The look on Severus Snape's face when he saw how his daughter was dressed made the room go quiet instantly.
"What in Merlin's name is that?" hissed the potions professor.
"It's Halloween!" Dementia retorted.
"Tomorrow!"
"I'm celebrating it early."
Snape sighed. "And what are you supposed to be dressed as?"
"Isn't it obvious? I'm a ghost," the young woman announced, causing several people to laugh incredulously.
"Oh," Snape replied sarcastically, crossing his arms. "The ghost of what, exactly?"
"Tinker Bell."
"Tinker what?" choked Snape.
"Tinker Bell. She's a little fairy who follows Peter Pan around. You know, like in the cartoon by Walt Disney! You don't know what on earth I'm talking about," she noticed. "Right, well, I couldn't decide between dressing as a ghost or as Tinker Bell, so I did both," she explained, then turned in a circle so Professor Dumbledore could admire her costume.
Her costume was, to say the least, revealing. She had copied the dress worn by Tinker Bell in the cartoon that she had seen with her first husband and had charmed it to look pale silver. A light pair of sparkling wings completed the look, which really didn't leave much to the imagination.
Snape flicked his wand and Dementia found herself wrapped in a sheet just like a mummy in its bandages, glaring at her father through the two eyeholes that were cut into the fabric.
"There," he said mockingly, "that is a ghost."
"I'm sure the Bloody Baron would love your idea of what ghost fashion looks like…"
"Ghost fashion? Is that a phrase?"
"Get me out of this sheet! Professor Dumbledore!"
Smiling in indulgent amusement, the Headmaster freed Dementia from her fabric prison while Severus shot him a cold look and Dolores Umbridge looked outraged.
Hermione shook her head disapprovingly while Ron burst out laughing.
"Your sister is great, mate! Completely mad, but great!"
Harry glared at him, but this had no effect at all on the redhead. Hermione threw a piece of bread at his head and stood, grabbing Harry by the arm.
"Come on! We have transfiguration."
Half an hour later they were sitting in Minerva McGonagall's classroom, leaning over some lamb chops that they were trying to turn into lambs, while Hermione, who had just earned 20 points for Gryffindor by transfiguring hers, gave them advice.
The sound of metal clanging loudly made them all jump. The sound came again, then again, and again. The noise quickly turned into an indescribable racket.
Peeves' voice could be heard above the commotion. "Forwards! Tortoise formation! No, horse! That's it! Go!"
Professor McGonagall opened the door and looked outside.
"Oh, Al – er Merlin's beard!" she cursed despite herself.
The students leaned back to look over their professor's shoulder and shouted in surprise. Most of the suits of armour had come alive and were parading in military formation, while a delighted and out of control Peeves ordered them about.
"I think I know who cast a spell on Peeves' water balloons," groaned Harry.
"You do?" Ron asked.
"It's too much of a coincidence. She's the only one who's already celebrating Halloween!"
Hermione looked horrified that a member of the teaching staff could play tricks like this. McGonagall declared that it was impossible to work properly under these conditions and let them go.
"I was planning to sleep in the rooms tonight," Harry continued, heading out of the transfiguration classroom, "but all things considered…"
"You were planning to what?" choked Ron.
"Well I was hoping to get a bit of help with my defence homework, so I can avoid getting another detention."
Hermione gave him a sympathetic look; it was certainly true that Harry was being overrun with detentions under flimsy pretexts. The first time he had been punished after the detention that had made Snape angry, he had been terrified. But his father hadn't said anything. He had simply advised him to keep a low profile and to behave as much as possible. But despite all his efforts, he spent half of his evenings in detention, and if it wasn't for the murtlap essence that Hermione gave him, the pain in his left hand would have been unbearable.
Despite Hermione's insistence, he was still categorically refusing to tell Snape about what happened in his detentions with Umbridge. He had mixed feelings about what Snape's reaction would be; on the one hand he was scared that his father would go after Umbridge, who was getting the Minister to pass decree after decree so that she could control more and more of the castle. Paradoxically, he was also scared that Snape would tell him that he couldn't do anything… or that he didn't want to do anything.
He wouldn't be able to bear being rejected again.
Ron seemed to understand, and although he called Umbridge all the names under the sun whenever he could, he didn't try to convince Harry to talk to anyone. But Hermione… She nagged Harry constantly whenever Ron's back was turned, and it had started arguments between them. Not that they really needed another thing to argue about…
oOo
The day before Halloween was the worst day they had had at Hogwarts since the Chamber of Secrets had been opened.
Not a single inkwell could be opened without it shooting out sparks and spattering the faces of the unfortunate students who had opened them, not a single school robe kept the correct badge, not a single corridor was free of Peeves' voice shouting contradictory orders or the racket caused by the suits of armour.
The dungeons were the most affected, since the ghosts only slightly shared Snape's idea of how spirits should dress…
In addition, the Bloody Baron became an ardent fan of Dementia, whose costume had given him a taster of what the young woman's afterlife could be like. The result was that the sinister and mysterious Slytherin ghost wouldn't tolerate the slightest criticism or comment about Demi, and that he recruited Peeves to go after those impertinent enough to lay into her.
And while Peeves chased those poor sods with his enchanted water bombs, the suits of armour did whatever they wanted and scattered throughout the castle. It then took a full hour and a lot of hysterical screaming for the poltergeist to gather them again.
With the help of her spirit admirer, who had deftly distracted the Potions Master, Dementia had charmed the door to her father's room and, as soon as he went through the door, he had found himself decked out in a long, bushy white beard that Dumbledore would have been jealous of and white robes that were just as strikingly bright as his normal ones were dark, covered with golden snitches that Gilderoy Lockhart would have loved.
Snape had started yelling furiously almost immediately.
"Dementia!"
The entire castle, with the notable exception of the woman responsible, had shaken in its foundations.
Much to the amusement of most of the students and all of the professors, Severus had then spent the day explaining to Albus, who was pretending to be offended, that he hadn't been thinking of him at all when he had ordered his daughter to get rid of the "ridiculous, old person's outfit that no man in his right mind would dare to wear in public", even adding that such a gaudy robe was offensive to bad taste, unfit for a decent person and only good for being a blackboard eraser, even though this would probably traumatise the blackboard.
Since Albus was himself proudly wearing robes that were so brightly blue they were almost white, and scattered with sparkling silver stars, it hadn't been difficult for him to pretend his pride was wounded by his Potions Master's comments.
Dementia didn't stop there. Following the (bad) advice of Sirius, she had taken it upon herself, despite Mrs Norris' passionate and loud protests, to dress her up as a vampire (teeth, cape and bat wings included) using a complicated spell that even Flitwick hadn't been able (or hadn't wanted) to do. Much to Filch's indignation and the students' joy, it quickly became obvious that Mrs Norris would stay that way until Halloween. Since the nosy cat was also decked out with a collar with multiple bells attached, she became as useless at watching students as Professor Binns.
The students and professors welcomed the arrival of Halloween with great relief (and perhaps a bit of apprehension).
For the first time in two days, the sugar and the salt weren't mixed up, there was no spice in the cakes, chalk didn't fly out the classroom to attack students and no more roast chickens were turned into live, angry chickens which chased and viciously pecked the student eating it. But the suits of armour performed a very realistic and impressive re-enactment of a great goblin battle while the ghosts surpassed themselves at scaring the students and Dementia sparkled more than ever.
The day before, Harry had finally gathered his courage and had gone to see Snape in his rooms, and the latter had helped him to write a completely uninspired and boring defence essay that was nevertheless theoretically sound.
During the next lesson, Professor Umbridge seemed furious to not have a reason to give him another detention. She had then provoked him for the rest of the lesson in a transparent attempt to make him lose his temper. Harry ended up biting his tongue so much that he left the defence classroom tasting blood, but he didn't give in - he hadn't even responded to her. Hermione's hand, which discreetly rested on his knee, and Ron's worried and furious expression, which Harry sensed was directed towards him, had really helped him to keep calm.
Despite Umbridge and once Dementia's antics (which Harry called the "Deadly Dementia-isms") had stopped (or, as Severus said, once the "unbearable child who was probably raised in the woods calmed down"), the rest of the week went smoothly.
Although the air was cool, the weekend promised to be sunny and, once Ron had mastered Hermione's tough syllabus – which he insisted Harry "didn't need too" – the trio was looking forward to a calm and relaxing weekend.
oOo
Voltaire once wrote: "The progress of rivers to the ocean is not so rapid as that of man to error."
Hermione, a perfect student who was curious about everything and whose parents were very well-versed in foreign literature, had already read Voltaire and had already seen this quote. Yet she had no idea what was in store when she got up on Friday morning for the last lesson of the week before what promised to be a relaxing weekend with her best friends.
As usual she got up, made the most of being the first up by making sure she was first in the bathroom, got dressed slowly and tried to tame her hair, passionately cursing her mother's genes, before banging on the boys' door and yelling that they had ten minutes to join her in the common room or she would go to breakfast without them.
Just as they had since their first year, they arrived in the common room 15 minutes after Hermione's threatening yelling, grumbling but glad to see that, once again, she hadn't followed through on her threat and had waited for them.
Just like every morning, they joked as they made their way to the Great Hall.
"You need to tell Professor Snape, Harry," Hermione pounced the moment they sat at the Gryffindor table for breakfast, as she had done every morning since she had discovered the cuts covering her friend's hand.
"You sound like a broken record, Hermione," Harry grumbled, making both of his friends frown, though for very different reasons.
"Harry," Hermione sighed.
"Broken record?" Ron asked.
"It's a muggle phrase," Harry explained, deliberately ignoring Hermione, who shook her head disapprovingly but didn't push it.
Ron nodded and turned his attention to his one true love – his breakfast. Hermione watched Harry for several seconds before helping herself to a glass of pumpkin juice and looking down at her own breakfast, which Harry understood to mean that she was giving in again this morning. But Harry wasn't fooled – he knew that she would persist, just as she had done since she had found out what Umbridge's detentions involved.
Loud flapping announced the arrival of the first owls. The first copies of the Prophet were handed out, causing cries of surprise and fear. Hermione practically snatched her own copy from the grip of the poor owl which had just landed in front of her and quickly scanned the first page, paling when she read the large lettering.
"Oh Merlin," she moaned.
"What? What is it?" Harry asked.
Pale as a ghost, she unfolded the paper in front of him and Ron so they could read at the same time.
"MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN
12 Death Eaters Manage to Evade Dementors"
"Oh, bloody hell," Harry growled, making Hermione grimace disapprovingly.
He quickly flipped over the photos of the escapees to read the rest of the article. One section in particular caught his eye:
"It is highly likely that the twelve escapees have joined their former cellmate, the Death Eater Sirius Black. We suspect that Black is gathering You-Know-Who's most faithful servants together to carry on his former master's dark work."
A strange feeling settling in his stomach, Harry gritted his teeth to stop himself from losing his temper. The noise of shattering glass came from the high table. Harry span around and saw Dementia, ghostly pale and with the hand that had just dropped her glass onto the floor pressed against her chest, skimming the article.
Snape put a hand on the young woman's arm, and she jumped as if she had been burned. She suddenly stood and ran out of the Great Hall, forgetting to use the exit reserved for professors.
Harry stood and raced after her, shouting back at his two friends: "I'll meet you in potions!"
Harry managed to follow Dementia through several corridors before she shut herself in the closest girls' toilets. He followed her without a second thought. Hearing her throwing up in the first stall, he waited quietly by the sinks. She came out a few moments later and rinsed her mouth out, then dabbed at her still-pale face. Harry handed her a paper towel and waited until his sister was more in control of her emotions before he spoke.
"Are you ok?" he asked, finally.
"Yes… No," groaned the young woman.
"I know you're worried about Sirius…"
"Of course I am," Dementia replied angrily.
Harry blinked at Dementia's tone of voice – she was normally much gentler with him. He took the newspaper from her hands and opened it to the whole article.
"Demi, this doesn't change anything. Sirius isn't in any more danger now than he was before."
He read the article again.
"It really is a rubbish newspaper – the Death Eaters 'have rallied around Black' – it's all rubbish. The way they're talking, you'd think Voldemort wasn't back and Sirius is the new…"
Harry stopped suddenly. The strange feeling in his stomach came back, stronger now. He looked up at his sister's pale face. He looked at the newspaper again. His eyes flicked between them a couple of times before he finally understood.
"Oh, Merlin…"