.
So far... The reborn Hermione launched the Cathesis League to fight Dark corruption, and Crest defensive training at Hogwarts where she'll soon begin her third year. After a rushed trial Luna and Neville were sent to Azkaban but are now pardoned, and Fudge's position weakened. Bellatrix is dead. The Weasleys are back from holidaying in Egypt, and the kids are back at Hogwarts. Neville learns that the Malfoys have a deadly weapon to be used against him in his future duel with Draco. Now read on...
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Chapter 77
Flower Of Her Youth
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Being Normal
On the second morning of the new term, Hermione's Potions classwork for the next day was prepared before breakfast, and she leaned back satisfied. As ever, the course would conform to the official syllabus as to type of potion. An abundance of ingredients was locked in the 4J store cupboard – though she might need to duplicate a couple more cauldron bases and other equipment, but that could wait until the lesson. Hopefully fresh Tutomees would arrive from Pandora before then.
"Ready?" Harry reached out for her hand, and she almost took it, but shook her head instead.
They watched enviously as Ron and Olive, arms round each others' waists, squeezed out through the common room exit together, followed by Neville and Luna who practically danced their routes from dorm to door, entwining on the way.
"Don't rub it in, Nev," growled Harry.
Neville sniggered.
"Let's search again at lunch," whispered Harry. "Must be an unused room somewhere we can have some quality time together."
"I've been thinking, you remember the girls' bathroom we found, about last May or June as I recall?"
"No, don't think so."
"Yes, you do. Just a small loo. End of the third floor corridor."
"No. There's no toilet that way. Maybe there ought to be, actually, because the nearest is–"
"–Exactly."
"Erm... not following you, Hermione."
"Nobody remembers it because that corridor bends twice away from a little side passage that goes nowhere. I think there was a bricked-up door at the end so nobody goes there any longer, not even Filch by the amount of grime and grunge."
"So you're thinking what's on the other side of that door?"
"Yes, if nobody even remembers that little passage or the bathroom even if they're desperate, then that room might be worth a snog or two?"
"I like the way you're thinking, Hermione." He glanced at his watch. "Let's take a quick look now."
"It's breakfast time, Harry."
"Circle round and it's on the way to the grand staircase. Ten minutes. Just take a quick shufty?"
"That's a big circle," frowned Hermione.
But she joined Harry in the throng of Gryffindors heading out then they split up. Harry hung back to tie his shoelaces. Hermione ran back inside to the Gryffindor reading room and faded through the wall. Once nobody was behind Harry, he sprinted off in the opposite direction to the breakfast trudgers, then took a shortcut up a brick staircase that some wise Victorian headmaster must have had built to facilitate access to that part of the third floor.
He heard a faint hiccup. "Are you there?" Harry whispered, peering into the gloom at the junction of the Charms corridor.
Within a wall tapestry, an intoxicated, bleary-eyed monk raised a wine goblet to Harry, then passed out on the floor.
"Aaagh!" Harry jumped backwards as Hermione burst through the fabric.
"What?"
"Nothing. Nothing. So erm... where is this bathroom? I don't remember it."
"Further along that way. You run ahead. Not many go that way but I'll watch your back."
Frowning, Harry did as he was bid. "Where?" He'd reached the end and turned left where another stone stair descended into gloom. He went down a few steps then came back, looking around in frustration as Hermione approached.
"You see?" she said.
"See what?" He flung his arms wide, then once more glanced anxiously at his watch.
"The other side of that uuh..." Hermione pointed. A large section of the end wall protruded outwards, partially obscuring a small recess off which extended a short passageway.
"Oh, yeah... didn't notice that."
"That's what I mean. You can walk right by it without realising it's there."
Harry stepped quickly left, then a sharp right. "There's that bricked up door!" He ran along the short passage and pressed his hands against the brickwork. He turned around nodding, and his eyes alighted on a grimy door on the side of the little hallway. "And that little bathroom... yes, I do remember this now. Look there are my old footprints in the dust!"
"I'm going through the bricks," said Hermione.
She was back in seconds, shaking her head. "Nothing there. It comes out over that new stair. Must have been a storeroom demolished to make way for the stairwell." They gazed down at where they'd disturbed decades of dust on the floor. "I bet nobody's been down here for a century. Maybe I can enlarge the bathroom but... doesn't look very attractive."
Deflated, Harry groaned and checked his watch again. "We'd better hurry."
"Run to the main staircase and try and mingle with any stragglers. I'll... I'll speed ahead and erm... come out from under a table or something and pretend I dropped my books."
"I'm tired of this, Hermione!" grumbled Harry as he sped off. "Wish we could just be normal!"
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Guts and Determination
McGonagall was present in Room 4J before the start of Hermione's first Potions class on the Wednesday. Hermione was stacking three new Tutomees on her desk and the deputy Headmistress was browsing a fourth. "Impressive," she murmured while placing it atop the pile. Together they watched as the students began to trickle in through the open door and find their favourite seats and benches once more.
"Good morning, Professor Granger," Harry cheekily called out, and others were following his example. Luna waved happily and took her place beside Neville.
"Susan, Ernie, would you come and collect your new textbooks, please – no wait, you might have to share." Hermione's eyes were widening as more and more Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws came into the classroom. Heavens! "Find yourselves a bench and partner up please, everyone."
A quick head count indicated there were nowhere near enough new Tutomees. "Sorry, can every couple with two Tutomees please pass one of them to the newcomers?" – There was a chorus of groans – "There'll be new Tutomees for all as soon as we can get them! ... Luna, if you would, please?"
Michael Corner called out, "I've already got one from Crest, remember?"
"Me too," said Leanne, "But we daren't use them with Snape."
"That's Mister Snape, please Leanne," corrected Hermione. "Parvati, I trust you will work with your sister to help catch up her lost year?"
"We have been – while we were off, and all summer," said Padma.
"Very well, but you'll find a new illustration this year, everyone. Mrs Lovegood has kindly drawn a colour rendition of the Great and Powerful Wizard of Oz."
Dean started laughing. "He was a conman! A Muggle!"
"But his knowledge of quack remedies and snake oil was second to none, and none better at understanding and communicating with his audience. Besides which, for our purposes, he can be whatever Mrs Lovegood has painted him to be, namely, a fully qualified Potions teacher with all the knowledge and skills both of magical potion preparation and, more importantly, how to teach that skill to others."
And indeed, the frontispiece displayed the impressive countenance of a venerable old man with dramatically flowing beard and deep mystical eyes. As Olive watched, he wiggled his fingers mysteriously at her, and she clutched anxiously at Ron's arm.
"We begin today with antidotes. On the blackboard I've written an advanced method of producing congealed essence of Bezoar extract. From each Bezoar you should obtain six or seven pellets by the end of this lesson; less than five will not be acceptable. Your Tutomees will answer any questions, and I shall be circulating to advise and support you as well. Please collect your goat intestines from the slop counter and begin." – The resultant stampede threatened to drown Hermione out so she raised her voice considerably – "Note especially Step 4! Do NOT suck out the bezoar from the wrong end of your intestines, everyone!"
Once all the students' cauldrons were simmering away, Hermione took time to describe to McGonagall the disadvantages that Muggle-raised children suffered. "A few weeks notice is not enough. The shock of that first Hogwarts letter followed by the rush to obtain supplies is insufficient to prepare youngsters for the magical life, let alone the rough and tumble of Hogwarts. They are thrown in at the deep end."
"Humph! They seem to survive well enough!"
"We can do better."
"What do you propose?
"As you know, Crest is a self-help student group. Work with us. You've seen our Tutomees. Suppose we persuade Luna's mother to produce a book providing a simple introduction to magic and the magical community? We have several Crest members with knowledge of the Muggle world who are willing to give of their time to visit Muggle-raised children, to explain to them that accidental magic is not evil but natural. They could keep in touch and possibly meet once a year."
"Once a year! How young do you expect them to first learn of Hogwarts?"
"When they are seven."
"Seven!" McGonagall's fingers tapped alarmingly on Hermione's desk as she considered this.
Hermione reminded her, "Children from magical families learn about magic and Hogwarts almost as soon as they learn to talk and – Mr Finnegan! Do not wave that about, please!"
Professor McGonagall shook her head thoughtfully. "This is not only a matter for the Headmaster but for the Ministry! Even the Wizengamot might become involved!"
"Parts of the Muggle Protection Act should suffice. Draw Professor Dumbledore's attention to Clauses 12 and 14 where Muggles are guaranteed protection from ignorant and incidental magic – which, of course, might come from their own children. A good statesman like our Headmaster could argue such an interpretation – and win it."
McGonagall's eyes widened. "I see you're quite determined."
"Always, Professor. Always."
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Preparing to Try
After dinner that evening, Hermione was gazing around the common room. "Harry, have you seen Luna anywhere?"
"Uuh... gone with Ginny, I think. While it's still light she's getting in a bit of practice ready for the try-outs. Ron's been helping her too."
Hermione frowned. She'd been relying on the former Ravenclaw for her next task and regretted she'd not asked her earlier. The dreamy girl had a calming effect on many, even though others twitched at her oddness. With a shrug, Hermione set off for the exit. "Won't be long, I hope."
"Need me to cover?" said Harry.
"No, I'm not going anywhere that I shouldn't."
She left him open-mouthed and with a slightly disappointed look on his face. He considered fetching his invisibility cloak and following her.
Fred tugged on his sleeve. "Harry, mate, when did you say's the next Crest meeting? Because Wood is talking about setting try-outs this weekend."
"When exactly?"
"He's not sure yet. Probably Saturday morning."
"We'll work something out."
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The Trickster
The Ravenclaw Tower was broad and deep with many passages leading off it, and whereas it had been empty on her covert visit in the summer of '89, now there might be students to-ing and fro-ing. As before, the one she sought was in a remote, secluded corridor, but this time gazing from an open casement, and her challenge was less hostile:
"I have found you out!" smiled the Grey Lady, sacrificing the view so she might observe Hermione's expression. "Your identity is known to me now, Miss Granger."
"As I would expect of an intelligent Ravenclaw such as yourself." Hermione returned the smile. "But how?"
"Oh, my description of an inquisitive, shrewd, imperious, scraggly girl fitted but one child. We ghosts are decidedly attentive for 'tis assuredly all we may do."
"But you have been enabled to do more now. What of the diadem? Safely hidden away until a future headmaster might have need?"
"The presiding head has put its service to use heretofore."
"Already? Professor Dumbledore?"
"I informed him the diadem wouldst be accessible once yearly if I deemed the crisis sufficiently dire."
Hermione frowned, thinking back. "When?"
"The strange gremlin," said Helena. "You recall Hogwarts was at risk of closure! I couldst not dally and leave such to happenstance."
"But the matter was taken care of!"
"By the Headmaster. He wore the diadem at my invite. How his eyes twinkled with the inspiration it bestowed! Gratefully he placed it back in its cedar box saying he was assured the matter wouldst be resolved and he understood what was to be done."
"But he... what then did he do?"
"Nothing," smiled the ghost. "He informed me he'd been persuaded to do naught and let events unfold as they would."
"A wasted use of the diadem then?"
"Not at all. While the school was evacuated he had intended to use aggressive curse-breakers in an effort to cleanse the castle. The protections would have had to be annulled. Hogwarts would have been quite vulnerable. The relief in his eyes when the diadem assured him he need not take such drastic action was a wonder to behold!"
Hermione smiled again and moved closer. Through the window she now observed the delightful twilight that Helena must have been enjoying. "I see you savour the added purpose to your existence, Lady Helena. Now you've the taste for it, perhaps you wish to be served another helping?"
Intrigued, the Grey Lady tilted her head inquiringly.
Hermione hesitated a moment, gazing out at the last of the daylight. She could not help wondering if Ginny was still out there practising Quidditch moves on her Firebolt. "Darkness casts its shadow upon us, not least on the students of Hogwarts."
"I keep abreast of events and thus understand your meaning."
"I wish to illuminate the children as to how they might protect themselves from the gathering wolves."
"I know nothing of those arts and begrudge the diadem partaking in savagery." Her robes swished as she twisted away, but the Grey Lady did not glide far. "What dost thou want with me?"
"Your presence only."
Lady Helena came back, suspicion on her face. "For what purpose?"
The silence that followed was mesmeric. The ghost's expression convinced Hermione she would fail in her quest, yet she had to speak. "So that he will be there."
"DECEIVER!" howled the ghost. "TRICKSTER!" Bristling, the Grey Lady fled down the passage. Hermione did not follow.
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Pair Shaped
The first week was a busy one for Harry Potter. Thursday evening had begun the normal Crest meetings with the new initiates. Friday evening had arrived for the introduction of the two unproven Slytherins.
"Are you sure this is a good idea, Harry?" Neville was waiting for the arrival of Theo Nott and Gemma Farley in Room 4J. "Together?"
Neville had opened the door to the Room of Requirement early so these two Slytherins would not see how it was done.
"I told you Nott already knows Farley wants to be trained, and personally, I don't care if she knows about Nott." He shifted irritably in his chair. "Just remember Hermione's instructions not to mention anything about Crest in general, other members, nor even about the Slytherin master – he's only been promised to Daphne and Astoria. Tracey and Blaise know about him as well of course."
"If Hermione can recruit 'whoever-he-is'," winked Neville.
"Yeah, if."
Neville chewed on that for a while. "But anyway, Theo might be really annoyed to see her here."
"Who cares? I don't trust either of them. They're both on probation." He folded his arms upon the front desk defiantly.
"Well, I think she's sweet now she's not acting like a boy all the time," said Luna.
"She's the prefect who nabbed me the day you all went to the Dome of Thorns!"
"Gemma's not a prefect anymore," said Luna morosely. "She's been mistreated, I think. She has that look."
"Look or not, just don't turn your back on her. Remember, she's a seventh-year! Always have at least two out of us three in training sessions." Harry stared at Luna, hoping she understood the serious risk they were taking. "She'll be really advanced at spell-casting."
"Talking about me, are you?"
Harry held his breath. Coming in through the doorway was a young woman clad in dark pants and top – both a half-size too small for her. His mouth fell open.
Luna went to greet her. "Oh, you look pretty. You're almost eighteen now aren't you? Your figure is very full. You'll need robes. We usually practise in loose clothing so we're prepared for action at any time. Anyway, Harry won't be able to concentrate."
Clearly uncomfortable, Farley looked wildly about as if to escape Harry's gaze. "Ah, I thought ... you know ... freedom of movement ... I... Should I come another day?"
Feeling the blood rush to his cheeks, Harry leant over to obscure his face while getting up extra slowly, mumbling, "No, wommore-due-tenpast." He studied his watch – again longer than needed. Finally he had to look up. Curves – swelling, moving curves – was all he could see. They seemed to stretch and bulge and sway across his vision. Deeply affected, he turned and pointed vaguely towards the alcove. "Wangoseeroowimmy?"
"Sorry?" Confused, the older girl folded her arms across her chest, trying to look in control.
"Uuh... wan' see training room wi' me – with us, with Luna with us, I mean? And Neville, I mean. All of us. Not just us, I mean?"
Luna duplicated her own robe then cast an enlarging spell on it. "Here, this will last you for today."
"Thank you."
Farley's gratitude was made evident in her rush to cover herself. Harry watched as she pulled the robe about her person. The room seemed emptied now of purpose, as though the limelight had failed during a theatre performance and the audience wished to leave.
"Who's the other one?" asked Farley, as she fastened the Gryffindor clasp across her midriff, and examined it thoughtfully.
Neville grinned. "Theo."
"Oh, right." Farley's expression lightened; perhaps she'd been expecting worse. "We may as well wait for him."
"Good idea!" Harry's voice sounded a little cracked. "To wait. Yes." He made a great study of the watch on his wrist once more, even putting it to his ear several times as if to make sure it was still ticking.
"Harry's REALLY good," said Luna with a swish of her wand. "So don't worry that you won't learn anything new."
"Of course – he's Harry Black!" Gemma laughed, as if it were obvious, and there was admiration in her tone when she added, "The Chosen One."
Harry looked up at her and the room was definitely much brighter and warmer again – robes or no robes.
A few awkward minutes passed with Harry wearing a silly grin. "Perhaps he's not coming." He tried to hide the hopeful tone.
Farley's expression softened and she lowered her voice. "Professor Snape told us not to bother him because his dad's – did you know his dad went missing over the holi–?" She broke off as Nott entered.
"Sorry, I'm a fraction early," he said briskly."Oh, Gemma! You're doing this as well? Good for you."
Harry noted how smoothly Nott pretended he didn't already know. A pleasurable sense of superiority lifted Harry's heart that Nott had been too late to see Gemma... pre-robed.
Neville was in the shadowy alcove beckoning. "Shall we go in?"
They'd made the Room a much smaller hall than last time; Harry didn't want either Nott or Farley to realise it wasn't a normal chamber. There was cover in the shape of stone pillars but no special equipment was visible, not even an enchanted manikin. The five students rotated pairings but soon found Harry was the only one who could fully match Farley's power and spell ability. A successful hour was spent testing each other's strengths and weaknesses.
"You're a little too predictable," said Harry. "Vary the way you switch between dodging, diving, and hexing. Don't forget casting on the terrain to cause the enemy to stumble, slip, be distracted, or lose advantage fending off debris while you cast another jinx. Sometimes advance towards cover to gain ground using multiple short hexes in front of their feet so forcing them to retreat, but don't be afraid to fall back yourself or even run away. Above all, don't speak, curse, insult, chat – let your wand do the talking! Keep your hexes and jinxes coming. Unless one is at a distance or pinned down behind cover, most fights will be over very quickly. If not, then you're probably doing something wrong."
Nott wasn't having much success with either Neville or Luna.
"Okay, team up then, erm... two against...?" began Harry
Nott quickly moved beside Farley. Too close. "I'm new to this and Gemma's the best so we complement each other."
Harry scowled. "There's three of us very experienced fighters against you two, so that won't work. Gemma, you and me against the others."
The arrangement was a better balance, but after twenty of the thirty minutes remaining, Nott called a halt, seemingly winded. "You were great, Gem! Too strong for me. Maybe you can help me to improve my tactics before the next meet?"
The session broke up without Harry calling the halt, and he watched irritably as the Slytherins called their thanks back over their shoulders and headed out into Room 4J. He glanced at Neville who just shrugged and followed Luna. By the time Harry went after them, Nott and Farley were leaving together, chattering excitedly.
Harry listened to their laughter fading in the distance. "They should have returned separately." He ran to the door. "You ought to–" They were too far down the corridor and almost out of earshot; he was reluctant to shout. The frustrated boy watched them turn the corner, bumping together.
"Who's he think he is?" Harry growled as he turned back to Neville and Luna. "I mean, she's a fully grown woman for Merlin's sake! And he's just a little kid!"
"Nott's nearer her age than we are, Harry," smiled Neville, with a wink at Luna.
"Only by eight months and eleven days!" snapped Harry. "Anyway, he's not nearly good enough for her."
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Lock Down
The next morning was clear, brisk, and bright now the sun was rising. Ginny Weasley slung her Firebolt proudly over her shoulder and strode purposefully after Ron back to the castle.
"Wait up, Ron, there's bags of time! Breakfast won't just vanish you know."
"Nothing worse than soggy bacon," whined Ron.
"I'm not going to eat anything heavy," said Ginny, as she caught him up. "Don't want to be stodged for the trials."
"You'll get Seeker, no worries. Needs agility and–"
–Ron had stopped and Ginny almost bumped into him. "What's up?"
"Door's shut! They shut the door!" He broke into a run with Ginny hurrying after him.
"Bloody hell! They've bolted the door!" Ron checked his watch. "It's ALWAYS been open at this time." He scratched his head. "Should we knock, you reckon?" The door knocker was a daunting brass snout bristling with warts and tusks, and needing two hands to lift it. Ron hesitated. Nobody used the Hogwarts knocker except in ceremonies! The sound would be deafening this early.
"I'm going for my dorm window," said Ginny, swinging a leg over her broomstick.
"Wha–?"
"–I'll come down inside and–" she was shouting down over her shoulder as she rocketed upwards "–let you in!"
Ron growled to himself. "Ruddy bacon'll won't be crispy if we–"
–CLANG! THUD! ... THUNK!
One of the great double doors began to slowly swing open. Two Slytherin prefects glared angrily at Ron. "What by Merlin d'you think you're doing out there!" one of them yelled.
Ron hesitated. He'd seen their rough tactics on the Quidditch pitch. "Uuh..."
"It's him, Bletch!"
They'd grabbed Ron under the armpits and lifted him off his feet before Ron could decide what to–
–WHUMPF!
Ron was flattened hard against an inner wall, knocking all the breath out of him.
"Search 'im, Bole. I'll lock the door again."
Hands were groping, digging in pockets. They wouldn't find his wand easily though, not in its Theban Moke sheath.
"Oy! What's going on!" Ron kicked out but hit only air. Bole kneed him in return.
"As if you didn't know, you disgusting bastard!"
"Hand him in. We found him prowling around. Avoiding breakfast. Let Snape deal with him."
Choking gasps: "not ... done ... anyth–"
"–UUMPH!" A fist hit Ron in the stomach.
"He's on the list, yeah," said Bole, prodding a meaty finger at a parchment. "Fred and George's half-arsed brother! You are royally screwed, Weasley! I hope they bury you in vomit and shit in Azkaban for what you've done!"
Ron couldn't breathe let alone talk. They dragged him towards the Great Hall. Through pain-squinting eyes, he saw its door was also shut tight. What was going on?
They tapped lightly. The door opened a crack. A dark eye peered out.
Bletchley said, "Found this sneak lurking guiltily round outside – too scared to come in. He attacked us soon as we went for him. Coward tried to kick us."
"Explain yourself, Weasley!"
Through the haze, he sensed it was Snape's voice.
"Well?"
Bole's raised voice obscured Ron's wheezing gasps. "Refused to answer us as well. We think he's hidden his wand in the Forest so nobody can–"
"–I'll deal with this," snapped Snape. "Back to your posts. Three more still missing. Do NOT miss a single soul, is that clear?"
"Absolutely. No one gets past us."
Released, Ron swayed.
"Come with me, Weasley." Snape dragged him inside the Great Hall and a prefect closed and locked the door.
As Ron staggered after Snape towards the staff tables, he became aware of the unusual silence. Nobody was eating. All eyes were on him. He heard the door being unlocked again behind him. Filch came rushing past, eyes lit up with triumph, and waving the sleeve of what looked like a shirt. The caretaker reached the Headmaster before Snape did. Harry was already there, explaining something to Dumbledore. The Headmaster stood up to cast a spell on the shirt cuff.
Snape slowed down. Ron almost stopped. He knew his friends' were watching wide-eyed from the Gryffindor table: Neville, Hermione, Luna, and most of all, Olive, who looked badly shaken.
Dumbledore mouthed something at Snape and gestured to the middle of the Slytherin table.
Abandoning Ron, Snape veered off rapidly towards the Slytherins. Wand out, he seized hold of the wrist of one of the boys, dragging him to his feet. Ron couldn't see who it was.
"Ron! Ron! Here!" Hoarse whispered cries from Neville. He was waving him to come over.
Ron was drawn like a magnet from madness to seeming normality. Gratefully he sank into place beside Olive. Neville was murmuring something about there'd been a theft and staff were searching everyone's dorms, but Ron still couldn't speak. He didn't need to; the Headmaster did:
"It saddens me to have to announce the death of a student, but the unspeakable manner of this demise in the last few minutes despite our best efforts to save her fills me with a grief beyond description. Her brutal violation was–"
"–GINNY!" Ron had found his voice at last – and his feet. Olive clutched at his arm but Ron was struggling free in the direction of the door.
"MR WEASLEY... please..." said the Headmaster. "Your sister was discovered in Gryffindor Tower by–"
"–Nooooo!" Ron stumbled, fought free, saw Fred and George rising up–
"–was discovered unharmed. ... I shall not be naming the actual victim of last night's attack until I have first informed her family. Be assured, the culprit has been apprehended and Hogwarts is, once more, secure." He signalled to a prefect that it was now safe to have the door open.
Ron remained standing, though leaning on the Gryffindor table and breathing hard. "He meant... not Ginny, didn't he?"
Penny Clearwater and Percy entered, bringing his sister with them. Ron surprised her with an emotional embrace – she still did not fully know what had happened. Only when they sat down did they hear Harry whispering to Hermione.
"Had to tell Dumbledore, didn't I? I was the last to see them together. I had to."
"Who, Harry? Who?"
Harry sank lower into his seat feeling very small, then lowered his voice to the faintest whisper. "He asked me. Dumbledore asked me – as if he knew I was the last to see her alive. Gemma with Nott last night. What could I do but tell him the truth?"
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—oOo—
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Author's Notes
Ash mentioned the Malfoys would be hypocritical to use a Muggle weapon even if it were enchanted. The duelling pistol was actually created by the goddess Anath so is as magical as a broomstick, probably more so. Likely it's not even a physical object but a bewitchment that looks like a duelling pistol. Other reviewers suggested Neville might wear chest armour but the cursed shot can swerve towards any Achilles heel. He'd need full armour plus some sort of Omnioculars to protect his eyes. But you do not want to make a goddess angry! Her shot will be unstoppable, penetrating, and definitely deadly.
Many thanks for all comments and reviews. These are most welcome and very encouraging. Let me know of any weaknesses or faults – I'm always trying to improve my writing so feedback is really useful. :)
– Hippothestrowl
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