Once again, I'd like to welcome you to the latest installment of Harry
Potter and The Scholar of Mystery! I hope all my readers have had as much
fun reading this so far as I have writing it. I view it as a labor of
love. Once again, I will be thankful for any reviews, comments, and
criticisms that I am given and I will respond to them in kind. Well,
enough with my boring dribble of an introduction, let's get to the equally
dull disclaimer! Woohoo!
Disclaimer- As I've said the last half-dozen times, I still don't own Harry Potter, no matter how much I tick off Mrs. Rowling. If anybody out there knows how to get around a restraining order given by a very famous writer, then I would be pleased to know about it.
Chapter 7- Hermione the Heroine
The clock had just struck eleven in the Gryffindor common room and only five students were out of their beds. Fred and George Weasley, who, for one night at least, were trying to stay out of trouble while working on their order forms for their prank shop, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. They intermixed their periods of labor with the occasional game of Exploding Snap. Another pair of Gryffindor night owls, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were not awake by choice. It had been well over a half an hour since Hermione had taken Matt's invisibility potion and returned to the common room and she still hadn't heard of Harry. And, as was often the case when she was not by Harry's side, she was quite worried about him and she wasn't about to carry the burden of tension alone, hence Ron being with her.
"They've probably gone to just pull a midnight prank," Ron complained as he stifled another loud yawn. "Can't I just go to bed?"
"This is serious, Ron!" Hermione hissed as she continued her severe pacing back and forth from the mantle of the roaring fireplace. "They went down to Snape's dungeon to steal something! They could have been caught by anyone! Filch, McGonagall, Snape, any number of people! How can you be so calm about this?" Ron rolled his eyes at the worrisome young woman before replying.
"Because you do this every time Harry goes off to do something that's the slightest bit dangerous. It could be a Quidditch match, it could be a Triwizard event, it could be fighting You-Know-Who himself. No matter how small or how large it is you just fret about like a mother hen. Come on, you know better than anyone that Harry and Matt can take care of themselves."
"Am I the only one that's noticed that somebody is after Harry!" Hermione nearly screamed. "Honestly, I didn't think he would do something this dangerous."
"I thought you were the one who convinced him to do it!" Ron pointed out as he leaned forward from his comfy recliner.
"That doesn't mean he should take so much bloody time to do it!"
By now, Ron was well aware that logic was not going to get him anywhere with his raving friend. Instead, as he often did when put in situations like these, he opted for mockery and insult over debate.
"You really should stop worrying so much," Ron said as he leaned back with a sneaky smirk. "I'm sure that your boyfriend will come back just fine."
"I DO NOT LIKE HARRY POTTER!" Hermione screamed so loudly that Ron thought that the entire dormitory was now awake. Whatever the case, the redheaded Gryffindor knew he hit the necessary nerve to calm her down, allowing Ron to speak calmly.
"If you're so worried about Harry, then why not use the Marauder's Map and find out where he is?" Ron pointed out austerely. "You have it, don't you?" A wave of realization finally seemed to hit Hermione, much to the relief of her beleaguered conversation partner. Without another word, Hermione pulled a shabby parchment out from her robes. The Marauder's Map was a "gift" given to Harry by Fred and George last year. Harry soon learned later that his own father had a hand in constructing the wondrous device, which provided a map of Hogwarts that was written to the finest of details, displaying hidden passages and fake walls that most professors did not even know about. However, the most important aspect of the map was that it was able to identify the locations of various people roaming the halls, an aspect that Hermione planned to take full advantage of now.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," she said resolutely and the rolled-up paper began to magically unfurl itself. Within moments, the magical parchment was levitating in the air like a calm brown owl. Some writing provided by an invisible hand appeared on it, a rather sloppy scrawling that seemed horribly rushed and overly exuberant.
"You are up to no good, Corporal Bushy Hair?" it read, causing Hermione to frown in disapproval. "I'd sooner believe that Snape got all the slime out of his hair!" Another bit of handwriting appeared below that, a smaller, much more subtle handwriting. It almost seemed to be gentle in Hermione's eyes.
"Don't be so hard on her, Padfoot," it said. "Not everyone is satisfied with raising havoc at every hour of the night. Most people have better things to do."
"Cut me some slack, Wormtail!" the messy handwriting continued. "I'm not sure we should trust this one. Knowing her, she'll probably tell old lady McGonagall on us and we'll get folded back up in Filch's file drawer again."
"She's Harry's friend, Padfoot. If Harry trusts her, then I do too."
"You're no fun, Wormtail!"
"Please ignore him, um, Hermione, is it? How can I help you?" the writing of Wormtail asked.
"I'd like to see where Harry and Matt MacDougal are located."
"MacDougal?" Padfoot's handwriting had returned. "What a dopey name to be using. Then again, I don't blame him considering his current sitch."
"Quiet, Padfoot! We'll be happy to help, Miss Granger." Without another word, the writing of the two squabbling friends had vanished from the parchment and was replaced with a map of Hogwarts. Filch and Mrs. Norris were searching for Peeves in one of the armor rooms. Severus Snape appeared to be asleep in his quarters. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall was burning the midnight oil in her office, no doubt working on the next written exam in her Transfiguration class. Finally, she turned her attention to the two dots marked Harry Potter and Matt McGonagall.
'McGonagall?' she thought with an alarmed look. 'What on earth is that all about.' However, it was the other two dots in the potions dungeon that truly frightened her. One of them glowed dully, almost seeming as if it wanted to keep itself hidden while the other seemed to glow menacingly.
The dots were marked Macnair and Peter Pettigrew.
Without another word, Hermione folded the Marauder's Map and dashed out of the Gryffindor common room, leaving a very confused Ron attempting to figure out just what the hell was going on.
"Die!" Macnair screamed as his double-bladed axe swung in hopes of claiming Matt's head. However, with a speed born of sheer desperation rather than battle instinct, Matt put his back to the floor and performed a sideways roll that caused the executioner's merciless strike to miss him by a hair. Biting back a growl of anger, Macnair simply continued to stalk the young Ravenclaw as he stood up quickly and tried to put distance between them.
"You can't run away forever," Macnair said mockingly. Matt growled and pointed his wand to the dungeon floor.
"I don't plan on running just yet! Tremoris!" Matt's wand glowed a bright orange as the nearby granite floor began to shake violently, the epicenter of the miniature quake right under where Macnair was standing. The executioner was caught unawares by the sudden maneuver and was forced to maintain his footing while Matt dashed to the side of the room where Harry was lying. The black-haired young man had somehow managed to get to his feet despite a severely wounded right leg and was hobbling while pointing his wand at his massive attacker.
"Can you walk?" Matt said as the violent tremors began to lessen and quickly fade away. Matt's shattered jaw made his voice sound muffled.
"Not really," Harry replied as he tried to cast a healing charm on his own broken bones. "It looks like we may have to fight until help arrives."
'If it arrives,' they both thought grimly.
"Your little tricks won't stop me!" Macnair grunted as he charged headfirst like an enraged rhino at the boys, his battle-axe held tightly in his hands.
"Stupefy!" Matt and Harry both cried as twin bolts erupted from their wands. The titanic beast of a man didn't even bother to dodge the attack, but met it head on. The sheer force of the dual hexes staggered him for the slightest moment, but Macnair just continued his charge within moments. Matt had only the slightest amount of time to push Harry aside from the rampaging man, but he couldn't get out of the way of Macnair's wild side- swipe, which managed to graze Matt's left shoulder as he tried to jump aside. He yelped like a wounded deer as blood began to spill from the two- inch deep gash. Despite his pain, Matt was still far better off than Harry, who seemed to have passed out from the pain of his badly broken leg. The fight was now a one-on-one.
"Impedimenta!" Matt bellowed as he grit his teeth in an effort to shut out the pain. The advanced hex seemed to slow down Macnair for the slightest bit, which gave Matt enough time to dodge Macnair's downward slash and use a trip kick to send the muscle bound Death Eater to the ground. With impressive speed, Matt scrambled back to his feet and prepared to cast another spell. Before he was able, however, Macnair threw his axe at the boy. Matt dove aside to dodge the throw, causing the double- bladed monstrosity to plant itself deeply into one of the dungeon's walls. However, Macnair used the distraction to leap to his feet and grab the young Ravenclaw by the neck.
Matt's vision was a hazy sea of red as Macnair hefted him several feet in the air. He tried to think of a spell to cast but a firm grasp of Matt's left wrist with Macnair's spare sent his wand clattering to the hard stone floor.
"An excellent hunt," Macnair whispered menacingly, the muscles in his neck flexing and expanding outward nearly to the size of elevator cords. "I have been waiting a long time to feel your blood on my hands." Matt tried to spit in Macnair's cold, black eyes in a final act of defiance but found that his throat was dry. Macnair noticed the gesture and gave another cold laugh. "Do you have any last words?"
"LEAVE MY FRIEND ALONE!!"
As Macnair turned his head to find the source of the enraged voice, he was greeted by an enormous ball of fire that looked to be about four feet long and two feet wide. Matt broke himself from Macnair's distracted grip as the spell hit the executioner full in the chest, causing him to flip backwards from the sheer force of the spell. The smell of cooked skin began to permeate the room even before Macnair's body began to hit the ground. Matt stared in disbelief as he rolled backwards to retrieve his wand and look at his savior.
And there, standing at the dungeons' entrance, was a stunned Hermione Granger, who held out her wand in her pale hands. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she looked around the room to see Harry's fallen body, Macnair's twitching arms, and Matt's wide-eyed expression.
"How in the hell did you do that!" Matt hollered. In response, Hermione quickly looked to her wand, then to Macnair's smoking body, to Harry's unconscious form, and then back to her wand again.
"I. . ." she stammered, "I don't have the faintest idea."
"So the mudblood comes to me," Macnair said as he rose up to a sitting position as if he was just waking up from a brief nap. His charred and bubbling flesh was beginning to mend and heal before Matt and Hermione's horrified eyes. "Allow me to thank you for saving me the trouble of looking for you, Miss Granger." As Macnair rose to his feet, Matt turned to Hermione.
"Get out of here, Hermione!" Matt screamed as he pointed his wand at her for emphasis. "He's here to get you!"
Under most circumstances, Hermione would have been more than happy to rush back to her room as quickly as she could and pretend that this wasn't happening. If the problem was hers and hers alone, she would have probably sat by the fire and read a book to calm herself down and try to not concern anybody else. However, it was her friends that were hurt and writhing on the floor, her friends who were fighting for their lives against this monstrosity. Two of the people that she cared for the most in all the world. Every fiber of her mighty brain may have been screaming at her to run, but her heart knew where her true place was. Running was the last option in her mind.
"Leave this school immediately," Hermione said without a hint of fear, her wand pointed menacingly at Macnair. "I won't allow you to hurt anyone else!" Macnair just leered at the brave young woman.
"Spare me your delusions, mudblood," Macnair said as he rubbed a spot in his chest that was scarring from Hermione's attack. "I'll commend you for your lucky shot, but that's all you're going to get." Macnair turned his head away from the girl momentarily and scowled while he watched Matt banishing the gigantic battle-axe out back into the storeroom, far away from Macnair's reach. "No matter, I'll be more than happy to sever your spinal cord with my own two hands," he said, holding up his hands, which were stained with the blood of Matt and the baby unicorn. With the speed of a wildcat, Macnair charged at Hermione.
"Stupefy!" She shrilled; a large ball of red light emerged from her wand and shot out at her foe. However, a simple swipe of his right hand sent the ball careening away harmlessly. Before Hermione could recover from the shock of Macnair's might, the ferocious villain had grabbed her by the neck and hung her up in the air.
"Too simple," Macnair hissed before he suddenly cried out painfully. Matt had snuck up behind the executioner and delivered a sharp kick below the belt that not even Macnair could shrug off. The pain caused Macnair to forfeit his grip on Hermione, allowing her to slide back down to the ground. Within moments, Hermione had joined Matt at Macnair's back and joined her wand with his.
"Banishus!" they both cried. The strength of the double banishing charm caused Macnair to be hurtled away from them and land headfirst unceremoniously onto the steps. Not bothering to watch Macnair's painful plummet back down, Hermione and Matt rushed to Harry, who was just beginning regain consciousness.
"Harry!" Hermione screamed, her voice clearly tinged with worry. "What did he do to you?" Harry was still a bit bleary-eyed from the pain, so it took a bit of time to actually figure out that it was Hermione who was kneeling at his side. His eyes went wide with fear.
"You need to get out of here!" Harry rasped as he tried in vain to stand back up. "He'll kill you! He's been sent here to kill you!"
"I'm not leaving without you," Hermione said in a firm voice that left no room for further arguments. Before Harry and Matt could offer any more arguments, however, they were interrupted by the sound of Macnair rising up amongst the shattered granite steps. The executioner's nose seemed to be smashed to be bits, but he didn't seem the least bit affected.
"I'm through playing with you little cretins," Macnair growled. "My master has called for your deaths and it is time for me to follow his orders!"
And, once again, Macnair was on the offensive. Matt and Hermione scattered wildly while Harry searched desperately for a safe place to cast spells from. Macnair swung at Matt and Hermione with a force that would make even the most talented of prizefighters shake in their boots. The sheer strength from the blows left holes in the floor where Matt or Hermione escaped from them. Meanwhile, Harry was now hidden under one of the few unbroken tables of the room, once again casting every spell he could think of at Macnair.
"Flipendo! Expillarmus! Stupefy! Enervio!" Bolt after bolt of energy fired away from the boy's well-worn wand, each charm and hex draining even more of his psyche away from him. He fought back the blackness that threatened to overtake him, his sweat mixing with his spilled blood. It didn't look like his attacks were having the least bit effective on Macnair, who just seemed to absorb the blows while continuing to chase after Matt and Hermione, both of whom were gradually losing their speed. Harry continued to try, however. Matt and Hermione were two of the few friends he ever had, and he wasn't about to lose them without a fight.
But, as it's been seen before, Matt, Harry, and Hermione could not stop Macnair this bitter New Year's night. It was Hermione who was the first to be caught by Macnair. He had managed to grab a sizeable handful of Hermione's hair while she tried to escape from his latest assault. As Hermione screeched in pain, Macnair grabbed her small shoulders and lifted her up on his colossal shoulders, hardly even feeling the punches and kicks that the young woman was attacking him with. Matt foolishly tried to rescue Hermione by trying to hit Macnair with a sharp right hook, but the executioner caught the blow easily and delivered a short backhand that stunned the boy long enough for Macnair to once again grab him by the neck. Macnair felt a slight wave of heat at his back as Harry's Incendio hex hit him but he simply ignored the pain and started to squeeze the two wizards trapped in his firm grip, reveling in the screams that they uttered.
"I think I've seen enough."
A small dart flew through the air and impaled itself into the crick of Macnair's neck. More shocked than hurt, Macnair released and Hermione and yanked. Before he could even really register it happening, the entire room began to spin and become blurry to Macnair's eyes. He rapidly blinked his eyes in an effort to adjust but the powerful poison now coursing through his veins had taken its hold on him and not even he could fight the effects for long. Weaving like a drunken sailor, Macnair had just enough time to spy a shadowy figure that he couldn't quite recognize in the frame of the door before his eyes rolled into the back of his hand and he collapsed to the ground with a mighty crash.
"The old adage is true," Peter Pettigrew said as he slowly moved forward to examine his victim. "The bigger they are, the harder they fall."
Not even Harry could sum up the energy to say something to the man who sold out his parents to Voldemort and just saved his friends' lives. Pettigrew looked like a vagabond in a tattered brown robe, his sandy-blond hair looking like a dirty mop on top his head. He put two fingers to Macnair's wrist and held them there for a few moments. Then, with a bit of a frown on his face, he rose up and pulled his wand out of his pocket and walked towards Harry.
"You stay away from me, you traitor!" Harry yelled threateningly while Matt and Hermione were still trying to recover their breath. Harry didn't have any more energy for a spell and, as much as he wanted to back away, the sheer pain in his right leg barely allowed him to crawl. Peter paid no heed to Harry's warning and pointed his wand at Harry's broken leg.
"Much like my old friend Remus," Peter said as a green field of light surrounded his wand, "it's pretty hard to knit bones with a wand, but I'll see what I can do." The glow of the Eneverate charm surrounded the lower half of Harry's leg and slowly coursed its way into Harry's blood stream. Harry tried not to breathe a sigh of relief from the brief respite from pain. With that task done, Peter turned his attentions to the other two.
"Do you two need any help?" Peter asked in what appeared to be a good- natured manner. Hermione was still a bit shell-shocked to respond to the recent turn of events, but Matt managed to cough out a reply. He pointed at the fallen Macnair, who was taking shallow breaths every few seconds.
"What did you do to him?" Matt asked as he pulled himself back up to his knees.
"Simple, really," Peter said with a sly grin, "I just injected him with enough valium to knock out a herd of elephants. We may all have magic at our fingertips, but we're only human in the end." More forceful coughing from the brown-haired boy caused Peter to pat the boy's back. "Don't speak too much, young man, it looks like you might unhinge what's left of your jaw before Madam Pomfrey gets to it. By the way, my name's Peter Pettigrew," he said while extending his hand, which Matt shook with a stunned look on his face.
"Peter Pettigrew? I thought you were supposed to be dead!" Matt said slowly as he shook Peter's hand warily.
"I get that quite a bit," Peter said while shrugging his shoulders. "Believe it or not, however, I'm quite alive and well, no matter how many people would like to see me differently."
"Why did you help us?" Hermione asked coldly, her eyes narrowed to slits. Peter heaved a heavy sigh as he let go of Matt's hand and turned towards the storeroom. With a flick and a swish of his wand, Macnair's battle-axe began to levitate and move slowly to Peter's hands. Peter grunted with effort as he hefted the battle-axe with both hands before unceremoniously tossing the weapon onto Macnair's massive chest.
"As much as I'd like to leave this cheery bloke for the dementors," Peter said with a frown, "Voldemort will be expecting him."
"You didn't answer my question," Hermione said, her voice quite a bit louder this time.
"Let's just say the three of you have a much bigger role to play in the events to come," Peter said seriously. "It's not your time to die tonight." He was looking Matt and Hermione straight into their eyes now. "The two of you must stand by Harry and be prepared. You're the only chance he has for surviving Voldemort's revival."
"You-Know-Who is coming back?" Hermione asked in alarm.
"If I have anything to say about it, yes." Peter responded simply before turning back to the storeroom. "Accio, wand!" he screamed as Macnair's long discarded wand quickly flew into his empty left hand. He brusquely moved Macnair's cloak aside and placed the blood-covered wand in one of the loops of Macnair's belt. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps resonated from above the dungeon.
"That will be Dumbledore and Filch," Peter said while checking his watch. "They're right on schedule." Peter turned back to Harry, who still couldn't find any words to say at this bizarre occurrence.
"Good luck in the second task, Harry," Peter said as the tip of his wand glowing brightly "I'll be watching you."
With those last words, Peter and Macnair disappeared from the devastated classroom, not even leaving a poof of smoke to signify their leaving. Thirty seconds later, Dumbledore and Argus Filch had arrived and carried Harry, Hermione, and Matt to the infirmary.
"What has happened here?" Dumbledore asked with a furious look in his eyes. "Filch! Awaken Poppy while I get these three students to the infirmary!"
"Yes, Professor." Filch said as he bowed his head while giving a suspicious glance towards the students. While Dumbledore checked Harry, Matt spat out another wad of blood and saliva onto the cold floor, his mind wracked with pain.
"Macnair. . . Voldemort. . . Pettigrew," Matt murmured as his world went back and he collapsed in Hermione's arms.
It was one o'clock in the afternoon the next day when Matt once again opened his eyes, his beaten body once again lying in the same infirmary bed that he had occupied the day before. The bright, January sun was trying to pry its way through the hospital's heavy drapes while the near-continuous snowfall that was among Hogwarts for much of the winter had abated for a bit. He managed a look at a fresh bandage on his left shoulder that hid the ugly cut that Macnair gave him while giving his jaw a few experimental stretches. He was relieved to find it back in it's normal state, much to his relief.
"Welcome back, Mister McGonagall."
Albus Dumbledore was sitting on the edge of one of the hospital beds, the one belonging to Hermione Granger, to be precise. She had a bright smile of relief on her face despite the purple spots on her face and neck, evidence of Macnair's attacks on her. Matt took a brief glance to his right to find Harry sleeping peacefully in another bed, his right leg wrapped up firmly in a leg cast. He too had his share of bruises and cuts, which were doubtlessly on Matt's face as well.
"Mister Potter took a sleeping draught just before classes began today," Dumbledore said with his usual misty smile. "Allow me to assure you that he is quite all right and will be out of that cast very soon." Matt and Hermione both gave a sigh of relief at that. "The three of you will be getting back into trouble by tomorrow, I imagine."
Matt gave a brief blush and chuckled while Hermione tried to stammer out a reply concerning her high grades and her efforts to keep them out of trouble.
"There's no need to apologize, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said as he patted Hermione's leg gently. "The three of you are to be commended. Macnair is a vicious man with devastating power and you fought him without backing down." It was just then when Matt realized something.
"Professor! You called me. . ."
"I called you by your true name, Matt McGonagall," Dumbledore said firmly. "Miss Granger was already aware of who you are and she has promised that she will not say anything to anyone about it."
"How did you find out?" Matt asked Hermione. Now it was her turn to look shocked and not have an answer.
"Well, I. . ." she began.
"She read your name in the Marauder's Map," Dumbledore said simply. "The same item that allowed her to find that the two of you were being attacked."
"Professor!" Hermione said in hushed tones. "He doesn't know about that! I didn't know you knew about it!"
"You underestimate me Miss Granger," Dumbledore said with a merry smile. "As for Matt here not knowing about the Marauder's Map, I think it was high time that he should know. As Peter had most likely told you, the three of you all have a large role to play in the events to come. I think that the more you three knew about each other, the safer you would be."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell all of you about myself before," Matt said, an almost shameful look on his depressed features. Hermione had known Matt for three months now and she was still shocked to see such an expression on the normally cheery Ravenclaw's face. Hermione always thought of Matt as nothing more than an aimless prankster who didn't care about the consequences of his actions, almost a more intelligent version of Fred or George Weasley. She didn't certainly view him as the type of person who would fight somebody like Macnair tooth-and-nail.
'As usual, there's still quite a bit to learn,' Hermione thought.
"There's no apology needed," Hermione said compassionately as she patted Matt's arm. "We both owe each other our lives, let's just let it go at that."
"Fair enough," Matt said, his voice picking up a bit. "Professor? Mr. Pettigrew, Peter, told us that Voldemort would be revived. Is that true?"
"It is a very likely possibility," Dumbledore said as he picked up a straight-back chair to sit down in between the base of Matt and Hermione's beds. "As much as Harry and Professor Lupin would like to disagree, Peter Pettigrew is a very capable magician when the chips are down, as some Muggles would say. I believe that he is quite capable in succeeding where many others have failed." Matt and Hermione exchanged troubled looks at that comment as Dumbledore cleared his throat awaiting the next question.
"Then why would Wormtail save our lives if we're destined to fight his master later?" Hermione asked.
"Wormtail?" Matt asked confused.
"Wormtail was a nickname that was given to Mister Pettigrew during his days at Hogwarts by his friend Mister Black, Matt," Dumbledore responded. "As for his saving your lives, I am afraid that I cannot answer that for you."
"Is that because you have the answer and don't wish to tell us or is it because you truly don't know?" Hermione asked Dumbledore while Matt gave her a respectful glance at her display of impertinence.
"It is because I am relatively certain that you are all more than capable of finding the answer to that question yourselves," Dumbledore said. It was a response that not only massaged Hermione's ego but also told the two wizards that he wasn't about to answer anything further about their question
"Well," Dumbledore continued as he slowly rose up from his chair, "Madam Pomfrey has told me that the three of you should be able to return to your respective dormitories tomorrow and attend classes." Matt gave a frustrated grunt and hid himself under the covers. "I believe I should go myself before the good nurse throws me out."
"Professor?" Hermione called just before Dumbledore began to leave the room. The wizened headmaster turned around while he smoothed his long, gray-white beard with one of his hands.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" Hermione hesitated a bit before asking her next question to Dumbledore because she wasn't certain on how she wanted to put it.
"I cast some kind of spell against Macnair that I've never seen before," she said as picked up her wand from her table of belongings. "However, when I tried to perform the spell again, I just don't seem to remember how I did it the first time. Could you tell me what happened?"
"The beginning of something quite extraordinary, Miss Granger," Dumbledore replied cryptically as he shut the door leaving behind two confused students with their heads full of questions and one sleeping student with too much on his shoulders.
Of course, Hermione, Matt, and Harry received their fair share of visitors that day, particularly after the last classes of the day were over. Hagrid and Madame Maxine were the first to stop by, with Hagrid doting over them to such an extent that it nearly killed the bed-ridden magicians. Fred and George stopped by late in the afternoon to try and cheer them up by offering some of their traditional gifts to friends in the infirmary: a toilet seat (which Matt hastily declined) and some Canary Creams (which all of them hastily declined). Many of the Gryffindors, particularly the fourth-years, had dropped by the check on Harry to see if he would be okay for the Triwizard tournament and Mandy dropped by to deliver some choice comments to them.
"The library is pretty empty without you three around. Madam Pince is looking for somebody to shush." The blond-haired Ravenclaw said deprecatingly as Hermione rolled her eyes. However, the most interesting visitor of the day chose to stop by while Harry, Hermione, and Matt were polishing off their hospital dinner of pork chops with mashed potatoes and gravy.
"Any chance I can get a bit of that?" Ron asked while he pointed at Matt's plate. "I only had three pork chops at dinner."
"Only three?" Harry said with a look of mock astonishment. "It's nice to see you're cutting back!"
"You should hear what the school is saying about you guys!" Ron said as he nearly hopped around from bedside to bedside. "Is it true you guys fought a hydra or was it just an army of dementors?"
"I'm afraid it was just a single Death Eater, Ron." Hermione said swallowed a spoonful of potatoes.
"Sorry to disappoint you," Matt followed up.
"You should see the shape the potions room is in!" Ron said excitedly. "Snape tried to use a Repair charm on the room but it didn't do to much good. He's been threatening to skin all of you alive the next time you come back into his class. You may want to watch out for him."
"It's nice to see that somebody in this school isn't worried too much about us," Harry said with a smirk.
"You're being awfully flippant today, Harry. It's awfully surprising." Matt said as he turned to his black-haired friend.
"Speaking of surprises," Hermione said while looking at Matt. "I believe you have something to tell Ron, if I'm not mistaken."
"I was just getting to it, you pontificating putz!" Matt shouted loudly in the hopes that Madam Pomfrey would come in and shoo Ron away.
"Well, what is it?" Ron asked. Matt ran a hand through his messy brown hair before he began.
"My name's not really Matt MacDougal. It's Matt McGonagall." Ron's eyes were so wide that you could have placed a knut in his pupils.
"McGonagall?" Ron asked, his voice suddenly quite rough.
"I'm Professor McGonagall's grandson," Matt said simply while he gave a nasty look to Hermione. "I changed my name because I didn't want anyone to know who I was."
"Whoa," Ron said, quite a bit surprised at the sudden turn of events. "So that's why she's so hard on you all the time! Good Lord, I'd never want that old hag as my grandmother!" Ron tried to choke back his words at that but Matt just smiled.
"Don't apology, I quite agree with you." Matt said.
"It's hard to believe that she hasn't come up to check on you today, Matt," Harry said as he pushed his plate to the side and settled back into his hospital bed.
"She wouldn't care about me if I died," Matt said huffily.
"I'm sure that's not true," Hermione said. "Professor McGonagall has always been nice to us. She was probably just too busy to stop by what with the security breach and every thing."
"You don't know her as well as I do, Hermione," Matt said as he violently drank a mouthful of pumpkin juice. "She doesn't care about anybody else except herself and her precious lessons! It's been that way for as long as I can remember! She'd probably be here to check up on her precious Gryffindors well before she ever stops to see her Ravenclaw grandson!"
Ron, Harry, and Hermione had seen this anger streak before from both Matt and Professor McGonagall, so much so that it was difficult for them to believe that they hadn't spotted the resemblance sooner. As hard as they tried, however, neither Ron or Hermione could really understand why. Sure, sometimes Ron hated his brothers and the way they always seemed to pick on them, but he'd never be this harsh with his words about them. Hermione had always had a close relationship with her grandparents from both sides. Professor McGonagall was almost a mother figure to the Gryffindor bookworm, and she often viewed the head of Gryffindor house as an inspiration. Harry understood Matt's behavior far more than Hermione or Ron ever could. He was well aware that your relatives were not always nice and supportive. Before the conversation could go any further, another visitor showed up the door. A visitor that was hardly as welcome or anticipated as Ron.
"Could you give me a good reason as to why you've been here for over twenty minutes talking about nothing, Ronald Weasley?" inquired a calmly irate Severus Snape. Ron couldn't seem to will himself to answer Snape's simple, if not insulting, inquiry. In fact, he suddenly found it incredibly difficult to breathe properly.
"Um, there's no reason sir." Ron spluttered as he gave a panicked look from Matt to Hermione to Harry. "Why are you here, Professor?"
"I wish to speak with these three alone, Weasley," Snape said not even paying attention to Ron's inquiry. "Kindly get out of this infirmary before I turn you into a stone and throw you out of the nearest window." That was all the motivation that Ron needed to stand up at an alarming rate of speed, murmur out a "goodbye" to his friends and rush out of the door leaving the Potions master alone with Harry, Matt, and Hermione.
Snape slowly strolled his way to the incapacitated students, much like a wolf circling its prey before it strikes. The light that the hospital candles seemed to be absorbed by the sallow-faced teacher, giving him an almost devilish look.
"Professor Snape," Harry began, "I just want to say. . ."
"Be quiet, Potter," Snape said while maintaining his eerily calm demeanor. "None of you are to speak unless I speak to you beforehand. Dumbledore believes that your altercation with Macnair is punishment enough for sneaking about where you didn't belong, but I strongly disagree with him. I may not be able to enforce any penalty on you three but I am certainly capable of getting the information I need from you. I want the three of you to answer all of my questions in a clear, concise, and truthful manner." Snape said, glaring at Potter as he emphasized the necessity for honesty. "Do I make myself clear, children?"
"Yes, Professor Snape." The three students said simultaneously. Snape didn't show the slightest amount of approval over their willingness to participate. If anything, it further convinced the hook-nosed Potions professor that they were guilty of more things than he already knew about.
"Now, Mr. McGonagall," Snape drawled out while the Ravenclaw tried to make himself as small as possible. "We already know that the three of you were up after hours. However, what gave you and Mister Potter the utterly foolish and insane idea to sneak into my dungeons?"
"We were, um, looking for something that would help Harry in the second task," Matt said, his eyes looking frantically from Harry to Hermione for assistance.
"So you were helping Potter find out about the second task, were you?" Snape said with a smirk. "Another illegal activity." Snape now turned to Harry. "And just what were you looking for in my store room."
"We were looking for gillyweed, sir." Harry said softly. Snape harrumphed as he walked towards Harry's bedside to stare at him directly in the eyes.
"Did it ever occur to you to ask me if you can have the gillyweed for the second task?" Snape asked him dully. Now it was Harry's turn to search his friends' eyes for an answer.
"We thought that you would have said no, Professor Snape." Harry said as he unwillingly began to sink back into his bed.
"It's nice to see that you managed to get one thing right yesterday, Potter." Snape said, his ever-present glare wearing down on Harry's defenses. "So, the two of you were stealing gillyweed from my store room, Macnair attacked you and the four of you nearly destroyed the class room that I have been teaching in for ten years in the process. Much of my work is in shambles, many of my potions books have been burnt or otherwise smashed, and you didn't even get yourselves killed to alleviate my suffering. Is all this correct, Potter?"
"That's pretty much it in a nutshell," Harry squeaked. Snape was now so close to Harry that their noses nearly touched.
"Here's a bit of advice that I would like you to share with your friends, Potter," Snape said as he gave brief glances to Matt and Hermione. "The next time that you heroes," Snape said sneering at the concept, "choose to exercise your frustrations in a physical manner, please choose a location that doesn't involve my possessions being destroyed in the process."
"Yes, sir," Harry said meekly, his throat quite dry.
With a whirl of motion, Severus Snape stood up and briskly made his way out the door, his black cloak swishing behind him with every step.
"Professor Snape!" Hermione cried just as Snape's left hand wrapped itself around the door handle. "May I ask you something?"
Matt and Harry gave Hermione some very concerned looks while Snape slowly turned around, squared his shoulders, and stared at his top student.
"What is it, you silly fool?" Hermione ignored Snape's derision of her (she was quite used to it after being in his class for three and a half years).
"When we fought Macnair, I cast a spell I've never seen anyone cast before, a spell I've never even read about it. When I asked Professor Dumbledore about it he told me that it was something extraordinary but he wouldn't go into details." Snape turned around and wrapped his right hand around his weak chin.
"What does this have to do with me, Granger?"
"Well, I was sort of hoping that you could tell me a little bit about it." Snape gave a bitter chuckle.
"If you must honestly know what's so special, then I'll tell you. You cast the Incindarinus charm, a much stronger version of the Incendio spell that is supposed to require a great deal of concentration."
"What's so special about that, Professor?" Harry asked, once again rising up to a sitting position.
"Because the spell hasn't been properly performed in over eighty years," Snape said simply as he turned around and left the infirmary.
"That went well," Matt said.
"At least we didn't lose any points this time," Harry said shrugging his shoulders.
"I'm more worried about what Snape will do to us once we get back in his classroom," Hermione said as her head slammed against the pillow. "All this trouble and all we've gotten out of it is a mass of nicks and cuts, some broken bones, and even more trouble. We didn't even get the gillyweed!" The brown-haired Gryffindor expected Harry or Matt to say something to that so she was quite surprised when the two boys simply responded with huge grins.
"You underestimated us, Hermione," Matt said, his sly smile returning as he used his wand to summon his knap-sack to his bedside. He opened up the center pouch of it and rooted around for a few moments before procuring a gray slimy ball of what Hermione thought looked like a collection of tied rat-tails.
"How did you get that out of the dungeon?" Hermione said as she took a closer look at the gillyweed.
"Matt covered the thing with one of his invisibility potions so that no one would see it," Harry answered.
"So we got something out of this after all," Matt said exuberantly. Hermione's cheeky smile was brilliant as she stared at her two clever friends.
"This is wonderful!" Hermione said as she stuffed the gillyweed back into Matt's knap-sack. "Now all we have to do is to prepare you for the second task, Harry."
"And we've got more than a month to take care of that," Harry finished with a smile as the three friends whooped and congratulated each other for a job well done. Madam Pomfrey came in several minutes later with three freshly prepared sleeping draughts which each of them eagerly accepted. As much as they were charged with anticipation of the upcoming days, they were all still quite worn out from their fight with Macnair. Fifteen minutes later, Harry, Hermione, and Matt were all sound asleep, each of them snoring lightly as the gentle light of the full moon shined on them.
The students' last visitor of the night entered the room quietly thirty minutes later. It was a small, brown and white tabby cat with spectacle markings around her eyes. The feline had spent much of the day watching over the injured forms of the young wizards, not making its presence known to anyone but Dumbledore. With a swish of it's little, black-spotted tail, the tabby cat almost marched to the center bed where Matt was sleeping. A short leap brought the cat up to the bed itself and it watched the young man's slow breathing for quite a while. Once she was satisfied, the tabby cat stretched its legs lazily and swished her tail about a bit and curled up at the far side of the bed and continued to watch Matt for quite a while before dozing off herself.
"It seems that the first portions of Riddle's prophecies are coming true, Professor Dumbledore," Snape said as he walked hastily along side the Hogwarts headmaster, their path only lit by Snape's wand. "We should have been better prepared for this!"
"We must not frustrate ourselves on what has already occurred, Severus," Dumbledore said sagely. "We must focus ourselves on being better prepared for what is ahead."
"That spell that Miss Granger used against Macnair. It appears that her hidden power may be making itself known well before the boys' has. Do you realize what this means?" Snape said, trying not to be perturbed by Dumbledore's calm demeanor.
"Yes, it means that I win the Riddle prophecy betting pool," Dumbledore replied. "You should have had more faith in Miss Granger, Severus. I'll have to call Ollivander tomorrow to collect my winnings."
"This is a serious matter, Albus!" Snape shouted through gritted teeth. "This means that Voldemort's revival will be happening soon!"
"I'm afraid that there is little we can do to prevent Riddle's return to power, Severus," Dumbledore said gravely with a bit of a sigh. "Pettigrew is more than capable of avoiding the Ministry Aurors until the deed is done."
"You show an alarming amount of respect for that worm's capabilities," Snape grumbled.
"Do not start to underestimate him, Severus," Dumbledore warned. "Mister Black made the same mistake, as did James and Lily." Severus shuddered at the mention of his old school rivals. "He's already made fools of all of us several times this year alone."
"The little rat can't run away forever, Albus," Snape said coldly.
"It won't be long until he won't have to run any longer," Dumbledore countered. Snape and Dumbledore continued their trek towards Dumbledore's office with only the sound of their footsteps accompanying them. Once they arrived at the Headmaster's office, the light snoring of Fawkes, Dumbledore's pet phoenix, was the only sound about. Dumbledore walked into his domicile slowly, stroking Fawkes' brilliantly colored plumes as he removed his gaudy hat from off his snow-white hair.
"I want you to look after Potter, Granger, and McGonagall, Severus." Dumbledore said as he slowly took a seat in his favorite chair. "Even Mad- Eye can't be watching them all the time." Snape grumbled a bit upon hearing his latest assignment. The idea of following those meddlesome troublemakers was hardly the most important thing he could do with his time.
"Are you afraid of doing this, Severus?" Dumbledore said with a jolly smile. "I'm sure that the worse thing they could do to you is make you smile. I'm sure you will be able to survive their company."
"And what will you do with the children, Albus?" Snape asked.
The aging headmaster gave a wistful glance at the full moon before replying. "They must be prepared, Severus. They are capable of doing things that the world has not seen in hundreds of years. We will let them see their own way for now. They will begin their formal training when the time is right."
Snape thought he saw a tear running down Dumbledore's face, but he just chalked it up to a trick of the light.
"I just wish it didn't have to be this way, Severus."
Another wild chapter comes to an exciting close. Well, at least I hope you thought it was exciting anyway. Quite a few things were revealed here, probably a bit more than I wanted to reveal at this stage of the game, but I'll just have to roll with the punches as they came. Once again, thanks for reading my humble work and I would appreciate it if you could review my story. I promise that I will reply your review with one of my own. Scouts honor. Anyway, how about the next chapter preview?
The 24th of February has rolled around and its time for the second task! Matt and Hermione will take a backseat as The Boy Who Lived takes center stage. Will he shine again for the entire wizarding world to see as he challenged the tricks and traps of the merpeople? Will he be able to keep up with Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor? Find out the answers to this and more in the next stirring installment of Harry Potter and The Scholar of Mystery: The Second Task. Coming soon to a computer screen near you.
Disclaimer- As I've said the last half-dozen times, I still don't own Harry Potter, no matter how much I tick off Mrs. Rowling. If anybody out there knows how to get around a restraining order given by a very famous writer, then I would be pleased to know about it.
Chapter 7- Hermione the Heroine
The clock had just struck eleven in the Gryffindor common room and only five students were out of their beds. Fred and George Weasley, who, for one night at least, were trying to stay out of trouble while working on their order forms for their prank shop, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. They intermixed their periods of labor with the occasional game of Exploding Snap. Another pair of Gryffindor night owls, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were not awake by choice. It had been well over a half an hour since Hermione had taken Matt's invisibility potion and returned to the common room and she still hadn't heard of Harry. And, as was often the case when she was not by Harry's side, she was quite worried about him and she wasn't about to carry the burden of tension alone, hence Ron being with her.
"They've probably gone to just pull a midnight prank," Ron complained as he stifled another loud yawn. "Can't I just go to bed?"
"This is serious, Ron!" Hermione hissed as she continued her severe pacing back and forth from the mantle of the roaring fireplace. "They went down to Snape's dungeon to steal something! They could have been caught by anyone! Filch, McGonagall, Snape, any number of people! How can you be so calm about this?" Ron rolled his eyes at the worrisome young woman before replying.
"Because you do this every time Harry goes off to do something that's the slightest bit dangerous. It could be a Quidditch match, it could be a Triwizard event, it could be fighting You-Know-Who himself. No matter how small or how large it is you just fret about like a mother hen. Come on, you know better than anyone that Harry and Matt can take care of themselves."
"Am I the only one that's noticed that somebody is after Harry!" Hermione nearly screamed. "Honestly, I didn't think he would do something this dangerous."
"I thought you were the one who convinced him to do it!" Ron pointed out as he leaned forward from his comfy recliner.
"That doesn't mean he should take so much bloody time to do it!"
By now, Ron was well aware that logic was not going to get him anywhere with his raving friend. Instead, as he often did when put in situations like these, he opted for mockery and insult over debate.
"You really should stop worrying so much," Ron said as he leaned back with a sneaky smirk. "I'm sure that your boyfriend will come back just fine."
"I DO NOT LIKE HARRY POTTER!" Hermione screamed so loudly that Ron thought that the entire dormitory was now awake. Whatever the case, the redheaded Gryffindor knew he hit the necessary nerve to calm her down, allowing Ron to speak calmly.
"If you're so worried about Harry, then why not use the Marauder's Map and find out where he is?" Ron pointed out austerely. "You have it, don't you?" A wave of realization finally seemed to hit Hermione, much to the relief of her beleaguered conversation partner. Without another word, Hermione pulled a shabby parchment out from her robes. The Marauder's Map was a "gift" given to Harry by Fred and George last year. Harry soon learned later that his own father had a hand in constructing the wondrous device, which provided a map of Hogwarts that was written to the finest of details, displaying hidden passages and fake walls that most professors did not even know about. However, the most important aspect of the map was that it was able to identify the locations of various people roaming the halls, an aspect that Hermione planned to take full advantage of now.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," she said resolutely and the rolled-up paper began to magically unfurl itself. Within moments, the magical parchment was levitating in the air like a calm brown owl. Some writing provided by an invisible hand appeared on it, a rather sloppy scrawling that seemed horribly rushed and overly exuberant.
"You are up to no good, Corporal Bushy Hair?" it read, causing Hermione to frown in disapproval. "I'd sooner believe that Snape got all the slime out of his hair!" Another bit of handwriting appeared below that, a smaller, much more subtle handwriting. It almost seemed to be gentle in Hermione's eyes.
"Don't be so hard on her, Padfoot," it said. "Not everyone is satisfied with raising havoc at every hour of the night. Most people have better things to do."
"Cut me some slack, Wormtail!" the messy handwriting continued. "I'm not sure we should trust this one. Knowing her, she'll probably tell old lady McGonagall on us and we'll get folded back up in Filch's file drawer again."
"She's Harry's friend, Padfoot. If Harry trusts her, then I do too."
"You're no fun, Wormtail!"
"Please ignore him, um, Hermione, is it? How can I help you?" the writing of Wormtail asked.
"I'd like to see where Harry and Matt MacDougal are located."
"MacDougal?" Padfoot's handwriting had returned. "What a dopey name to be using. Then again, I don't blame him considering his current sitch."
"Quiet, Padfoot! We'll be happy to help, Miss Granger." Without another word, the writing of the two squabbling friends had vanished from the parchment and was replaced with a map of Hogwarts. Filch and Mrs. Norris were searching for Peeves in one of the armor rooms. Severus Snape appeared to be asleep in his quarters. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall was burning the midnight oil in her office, no doubt working on the next written exam in her Transfiguration class. Finally, she turned her attention to the two dots marked Harry Potter and Matt McGonagall.
'McGonagall?' she thought with an alarmed look. 'What on earth is that all about.' However, it was the other two dots in the potions dungeon that truly frightened her. One of them glowed dully, almost seeming as if it wanted to keep itself hidden while the other seemed to glow menacingly.
The dots were marked Macnair and Peter Pettigrew.
Without another word, Hermione folded the Marauder's Map and dashed out of the Gryffindor common room, leaving a very confused Ron attempting to figure out just what the hell was going on.
"Die!" Macnair screamed as his double-bladed axe swung in hopes of claiming Matt's head. However, with a speed born of sheer desperation rather than battle instinct, Matt put his back to the floor and performed a sideways roll that caused the executioner's merciless strike to miss him by a hair. Biting back a growl of anger, Macnair simply continued to stalk the young Ravenclaw as he stood up quickly and tried to put distance between them.
"You can't run away forever," Macnair said mockingly. Matt growled and pointed his wand to the dungeon floor.
"I don't plan on running just yet! Tremoris!" Matt's wand glowed a bright orange as the nearby granite floor began to shake violently, the epicenter of the miniature quake right under where Macnair was standing. The executioner was caught unawares by the sudden maneuver and was forced to maintain his footing while Matt dashed to the side of the room where Harry was lying. The black-haired young man had somehow managed to get to his feet despite a severely wounded right leg and was hobbling while pointing his wand at his massive attacker.
"Can you walk?" Matt said as the violent tremors began to lessen and quickly fade away. Matt's shattered jaw made his voice sound muffled.
"Not really," Harry replied as he tried to cast a healing charm on his own broken bones. "It looks like we may have to fight until help arrives."
'If it arrives,' they both thought grimly.
"Your little tricks won't stop me!" Macnair grunted as he charged headfirst like an enraged rhino at the boys, his battle-axe held tightly in his hands.
"Stupefy!" Matt and Harry both cried as twin bolts erupted from their wands. The titanic beast of a man didn't even bother to dodge the attack, but met it head on. The sheer force of the dual hexes staggered him for the slightest moment, but Macnair just continued his charge within moments. Matt had only the slightest amount of time to push Harry aside from the rampaging man, but he couldn't get out of the way of Macnair's wild side- swipe, which managed to graze Matt's left shoulder as he tried to jump aside. He yelped like a wounded deer as blood began to spill from the two- inch deep gash. Despite his pain, Matt was still far better off than Harry, who seemed to have passed out from the pain of his badly broken leg. The fight was now a one-on-one.
"Impedimenta!" Matt bellowed as he grit his teeth in an effort to shut out the pain. The advanced hex seemed to slow down Macnair for the slightest bit, which gave Matt enough time to dodge Macnair's downward slash and use a trip kick to send the muscle bound Death Eater to the ground. With impressive speed, Matt scrambled back to his feet and prepared to cast another spell. Before he was able, however, Macnair threw his axe at the boy. Matt dove aside to dodge the throw, causing the double- bladed monstrosity to plant itself deeply into one of the dungeon's walls. However, Macnair used the distraction to leap to his feet and grab the young Ravenclaw by the neck.
Matt's vision was a hazy sea of red as Macnair hefted him several feet in the air. He tried to think of a spell to cast but a firm grasp of Matt's left wrist with Macnair's spare sent his wand clattering to the hard stone floor.
"An excellent hunt," Macnair whispered menacingly, the muscles in his neck flexing and expanding outward nearly to the size of elevator cords. "I have been waiting a long time to feel your blood on my hands." Matt tried to spit in Macnair's cold, black eyes in a final act of defiance but found that his throat was dry. Macnair noticed the gesture and gave another cold laugh. "Do you have any last words?"
"LEAVE MY FRIEND ALONE!!"
As Macnair turned his head to find the source of the enraged voice, he was greeted by an enormous ball of fire that looked to be about four feet long and two feet wide. Matt broke himself from Macnair's distracted grip as the spell hit the executioner full in the chest, causing him to flip backwards from the sheer force of the spell. The smell of cooked skin began to permeate the room even before Macnair's body began to hit the ground. Matt stared in disbelief as he rolled backwards to retrieve his wand and look at his savior.
And there, standing at the dungeons' entrance, was a stunned Hermione Granger, who held out her wand in her pale hands. Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she looked around the room to see Harry's fallen body, Macnair's twitching arms, and Matt's wide-eyed expression.
"How in the hell did you do that!" Matt hollered. In response, Hermione quickly looked to her wand, then to Macnair's smoking body, to Harry's unconscious form, and then back to her wand again.
"I. . ." she stammered, "I don't have the faintest idea."
"So the mudblood comes to me," Macnair said as he rose up to a sitting position as if he was just waking up from a brief nap. His charred and bubbling flesh was beginning to mend and heal before Matt and Hermione's horrified eyes. "Allow me to thank you for saving me the trouble of looking for you, Miss Granger." As Macnair rose to his feet, Matt turned to Hermione.
"Get out of here, Hermione!" Matt screamed as he pointed his wand at her for emphasis. "He's here to get you!"
Under most circumstances, Hermione would have been more than happy to rush back to her room as quickly as she could and pretend that this wasn't happening. If the problem was hers and hers alone, she would have probably sat by the fire and read a book to calm herself down and try to not concern anybody else. However, it was her friends that were hurt and writhing on the floor, her friends who were fighting for their lives against this monstrosity. Two of the people that she cared for the most in all the world. Every fiber of her mighty brain may have been screaming at her to run, but her heart knew where her true place was. Running was the last option in her mind.
"Leave this school immediately," Hermione said without a hint of fear, her wand pointed menacingly at Macnair. "I won't allow you to hurt anyone else!" Macnair just leered at the brave young woman.
"Spare me your delusions, mudblood," Macnair said as he rubbed a spot in his chest that was scarring from Hermione's attack. "I'll commend you for your lucky shot, but that's all you're going to get." Macnair turned his head away from the girl momentarily and scowled while he watched Matt banishing the gigantic battle-axe out back into the storeroom, far away from Macnair's reach. "No matter, I'll be more than happy to sever your spinal cord with my own two hands," he said, holding up his hands, which were stained with the blood of Matt and the baby unicorn. With the speed of a wildcat, Macnair charged at Hermione.
"Stupefy!" She shrilled; a large ball of red light emerged from her wand and shot out at her foe. However, a simple swipe of his right hand sent the ball careening away harmlessly. Before Hermione could recover from the shock of Macnair's might, the ferocious villain had grabbed her by the neck and hung her up in the air.
"Too simple," Macnair hissed before he suddenly cried out painfully. Matt had snuck up behind the executioner and delivered a sharp kick below the belt that not even Macnair could shrug off. The pain caused Macnair to forfeit his grip on Hermione, allowing her to slide back down to the ground. Within moments, Hermione had joined Matt at Macnair's back and joined her wand with his.
"Banishus!" they both cried. The strength of the double banishing charm caused Macnair to be hurtled away from them and land headfirst unceremoniously onto the steps. Not bothering to watch Macnair's painful plummet back down, Hermione and Matt rushed to Harry, who was just beginning regain consciousness.
"Harry!" Hermione screamed, her voice clearly tinged with worry. "What did he do to you?" Harry was still a bit bleary-eyed from the pain, so it took a bit of time to actually figure out that it was Hermione who was kneeling at his side. His eyes went wide with fear.
"You need to get out of here!" Harry rasped as he tried in vain to stand back up. "He'll kill you! He's been sent here to kill you!"
"I'm not leaving without you," Hermione said in a firm voice that left no room for further arguments. Before Harry and Matt could offer any more arguments, however, they were interrupted by the sound of Macnair rising up amongst the shattered granite steps. The executioner's nose seemed to be smashed to be bits, but he didn't seem the least bit affected.
"I'm through playing with you little cretins," Macnair growled. "My master has called for your deaths and it is time for me to follow his orders!"
And, once again, Macnair was on the offensive. Matt and Hermione scattered wildly while Harry searched desperately for a safe place to cast spells from. Macnair swung at Matt and Hermione with a force that would make even the most talented of prizefighters shake in their boots. The sheer strength from the blows left holes in the floor where Matt or Hermione escaped from them. Meanwhile, Harry was now hidden under one of the few unbroken tables of the room, once again casting every spell he could think of at Macnair.
"Flipendo! Expillarmus! Stupefy! Enervio!" Bolt after bolt of energy fired away from the boy's well-worn wand, each charm and hex draining even more of his psyche away from him. He fought back the blackness that threatened to overtake him, his sweat mixing with his spilled blood. It didn't look like his attacks were having the least bit effective on Macnair, who just seemed to absorb the blows while continuing to chase after Matt and Hermione, both of whom were gradually losing their speed. Harry continued to try, however. Matt and Hermione were two of the few friends he ever had, and he wasn't about to lose them without a fight.
But, as it's been seen before, Matt, Harry, and Hermione could not stop Macnair this bitter New Year's night. It was Hermione who was the first to be caught by Macnair. He had managed to grab a sizeable handful of Hermione's hair while she tried to escape from his latest assault. As Hermione screeched in pain, Macnair grabbed her small shoulders and lifted her up on his colossal shoulders, hardly even feeling the punches and kicks that the young woman was attacking him with. Matt foolishly tried to rescue Hermione by trying to hit Macnair with a sharp right hook, but the executioner caught the blow easily and delivered a short backhand that stunned the boy long enough for Macnair to once again grab him by the neck. Macnair felt a slight wave of heat at his back as Harry's Incendio hex hit him but he simply ignored the pain and started to squeeze the two wizards trapped in his firm grip, reveling in the screams that they uttered.
"I think I've seen enough."
A small dart flew through the air and impaled itself into the crick of Macnair's neck. More shocked than hurt, Macnair released and Hermione and yanked. Before he could even really register it happening, the entire room began to spin and become blurry to Macnair's eyes. He rapidly blinked his eyes in an effort to adjust but the powerful poison now coursing through his veins had taken its hold on him and not even he could fight the effects for long. Weaving like a drunken sailor, Macnair had just enough time to spy a shadowy figure that he couldn't quite recognize in the frame of the door before his eyes rolled into the back of his hand and he collapsed to the ground with a mighty crash.
"The old adage is true," Peter Pettigrew said as he slowly moved forward to examine his victim. "The bigger they are, the harder they fall."
Not even Harry could sum up the energy to say something to the man who sold out his parents to Voldemort and just saved his friends' lives. Pettigrew looked like a vagabond in a tattered brown robe, his sandy-blond hair looking like a dirty mop on top his head. He put two fingers to Macnair's wrist and held them there for a few moments. Then, with a bit of a frown on his face, he rose up and pulled his wand out of his pocket and walked towards Harry.
"You stay away from me, you traitor!" Harry yelled threateningly while Matt and Hermione were still trying to recover their breath. Harry didn't have any more energy for a spell and, as much as he wanted to back away, the sheer pain in his right leg barely allowed him to crawl. Peter paid no heed to Harry's warning and pointed his wand at Harry's broken leg.
"Much like my old friend Remus," Peter said as a green field of light surrounded his wand, "it's pretty hard to knit bones with a wand, but I'll see what I can do." The glow of the Eneverate charm surrounded the lower half of Harry's leg and slowly coursed its way into Harry's blood stream. Harry tried not to breathe a sigh of relief from the brief respite from pain. With that task done, Peter turned his attentions to the other two.
"Do you two need any help?" Peter asked in what appeared to be a good- natured manner. Hermione was still a bit shell-shocked to respond to the recent turn of events, but Matt managed to cough out a reply. He pointed at the fallen Macnair, who was taking shallow breaths every few seconds.
"What did you do to him?" Matt asked as he pulled himself back up to his knees.
"Simple, really," Peter said with a sly grin, "I just injected him with enough valium to knock out a herd of elephants. We may all have magic at our fingertips, but we're only human in the end." More forceful coughing from the brown-haired boy caused Peter to pat the boy's back. "Don't speak too much, young man, it looks like you might unhinge what's left of your jaw before Madam Pomfrey gets to it. By the way, my name's Peter Pettigrew," he said while extending his hand, which Matt shook with a stunned look on his face.
"Peter Pettigrew? I thought you were supposed to be dead!" Matt said slowly as he shook Peter's hand warily.
"I get that quite a bit," Peter said while shrugging his shoulders. "Believe it or not, however, I'm quite alive and well, no matter how many people would like to see me differently."
"Why did you help us?" Hermione asked coldly, her eyes narrowed to slits. Peter heaved a heavy sigh as he let go of Matt's hand and turned towards the storeroom. With a flick and a swish of his wand, Macnair's battle-axe began to levitate and move slowly to Peter's hands. Peter grunted with effort as he hefted the battle-axe with both hands before unceremoniously tossing the weapon onto Macnair's massive chest.
"As much as I'd like to leave this cheery bloke for the dementors," Peter said with a frown, "Voldemort will be expecting him."
"You didn't answer my question," Hermione said, her voice quite a bit louder this time.
"Let's just say the three of you have a much bigger role to play in the events to come," Peter said seriously. "It's not your time to die tonight." He was looking Matt and Hermione straight into their eyes now. "The two of you must stand by Harry and be prepared. You're the only chance he has for surviving Voldemort's revival."
"You-Know-Who is coming back?" Hermione asked in alarm.
"If I have anything to say about it, yes." Peter responded simply before turning back to the storeroom. "Accio, wand!" he screamed as Macnair's long discarded wand quickly flew into his empty left hand. He brusquely moved Macnair's cloak aside and placed the blood-covered wand in one of the loops of Macnair's belt. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps resonated from above the dungeon.
"That will be Dumbledore and Filch," Peter said while checking his watch. "They're right on schedule." Peter turned back to Harry, who still couldn't find any words to say at this bizarre occurrence.
"Good luck in the second task, Harry," Peter said as the tip of his wand glowing brightly "I'll be watching you."
With those last words, Peter and Macnair disappeared from the devastated classroom, not even leaving a poof of smoke to signify their leaving. Thirty seconds later, Dumbledore and Argus Filch had arrived and carried Harry, Hermione, and Matt to the infirmary.
"What has happened here?" Dumbledore asked with a furious look in his eyes. "Filch! Awaken Poppy while I get these three students to the infirmary!"
"Yes, Professor." Filch said as he bowed his head while giving a suspicious glance towards the students. While Dumbledore checked Harry, Matt spat out another wad of blood and saliva onto the cold floor, his mind wracked with pain.
"Macnair. . . Voldemort. . . Pettigrew," Matt murmured as his world went back and he collapsed in Hermione's arms.
It was one o'clock in the afternoon the next day when Matt once again opened his eyes, his beaten body once again lying in the same infirmary bed that he had occupied the day before. The bright, January sun was trying to pry its way through the hospital's heavy drapes while the near-continuous snowfall that was among Hogwarts for much of the winter had abated for a bit. He managed a look at a fresh bandage on his left shoulder that hid the ugly cut that Macnair gave him while giving his jaw a few experimental stretches. He was relieved to find it back in it's normal state, much to his relief.
"Welcome back, Mister McGonagall."
Albus Dumbledore was sitting on the edge of one of the hospital beds, the one belonging to Hermione Granger, to be precise. She had a bright smile of relief on her face despite the purple spots on her face and neck, evidence of Macnair's attacks on her. Matt took a brief glance to his right to find Harry sleeping peacefully in another bed, his right leg wrapped up firmly in a leg cast. He too had his share of bruises and cuts, which were doubtlessly on Matt's face as well.
"Mister Potter took a sleeping draught just before classes began today," Dumbledore said with his usual misty smile. "Allow me to assure you that he is quite all right and will be out of that cast very soon." Matt and Hermione both gave a sigh of relief at that. "The three of you will be getting back into trouble by tomorrow, I imagine."
Matt gave a brief blush and chuckled while Hermione tried to stammer out a reply concerning her high grades and her efforts to keep them out of trouble.
"There's no need to apologize, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said as he patted Hermione's leg gently. "The three of you are to be commended. Macnair is a vicious man with devastating power and you fought him without backing down." It was just then when Matt realized something.
"Professor! You called me. . ."
"I called you by your true name, Matt McGonagall," Dumbledore said firmly. "Miss Granger was already aware of who you are and she has promised that she will not say anything to anyone about it."
"How did you find out?" Matt asked Hermione. Now it was her turn to look shocked and not have an answer.
"Well, I. . ." she began.
"She read your name in the Marauder's Map," Dumbledore said simply. "The same item that allowed her to find that the two of you were being attacked."
"Professor!" Hermione said in hushed tones. "He doesn't know about that! I didn't know you knew about it!"
"You underestimate me Miss Granger," Dumbledore said with a merry smile. "As for Matt here not knowing about the Marauder's Map, I think it was high time that he should know. As Peter had most likely told you, the three of you all have a large role to play in the events to come. I think that the more you three knew about each other, the safer you would be."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell all of you about myself before," Matt said, an almost shameful look on his depressed features. Hermione had known Matt for three months now and she was still shocked to see such an expression on the normally cheery Ravenclaw's face. Hermione always thought of Matt as nothing more than an aimless prankster who didn't care about the consequences of his actions, almost a more intelligent version of Fred or George Weasley. She didn't certainly view him as the type of person who would fight somebody like Macnair tooth-and-nail.
'As usual, there's still quite a bit to learn,' Hermione thought.
"There's no apology needed," Hermione said compassionately as she patted Matt's arm. "We both owe each other our lives, let's just let it go at that."
"Fair enough," Matt said, his voice picking up a bit. "Professor? Mr. Pettigrew, Peter, told us that Voldemort would be revived. Is that true?"
"It is a very likely possibility," Dumbledore said as he picked up a straight-back chair to sit down in between the base of Matt and Hermione's beds. "As much as Harry and Professor Lupin would like to disagree, Peter Pettigrew is a very capable magician when the chips are down, as some Muggles would say. I believe that he is quite capable in succeeding where many others have failed." Matt and Hermione exchanged troubled looks at that comment as Dumbledore cleared his throat awaiting the next question.
"Then why would Wormtail save our lives if we're destined to fight his master later?" Hermione asked.
"Wormtail?" Matt asked confused.
"Wormtail was a nickname that was given to Mister Pettigrew during his days at Hogwarts by his friend Mister Black, Matt," Dumbledore responded. "As for his saving your lives, I am afraid that I cannot answer that for you."
"Is that because you have the answer and don't wish to tell us or is it because you truly don't know?" Hermione asked Dumbledore while Matt gave her a respectful glance at her display of impertinence.
"It is because I am relatively certain that you are all more than capable of finding the answer to that question yourselves," Dumbledore said. It was a response that not only massaged Hermione's ego but also told the two wizards that he wasn't about to answer anything further about their question
"Well," Dumbledore continued as he slowly rose up from his chair, "Madam Pomfrey has told me that the three of you should be able to return to your respective dormitories tomorrow and attend classes." Matt gave a frustrated grunt and hid himself under the covers. "I believe I should go myself before the good nurse throws me out."
"Professor?" Hermione called just before Dumbledore began to leave the room. The wizened headmaster turned around while he smoothed his long, gray-white beard with one of his hands.
"Yes, Miss Granger?" Hermione hesitated a bit before asking her next question to Dumbledore because she wasn't certain on how she wanted to put it.
"I cast some kind of spell against Macnair that I've never seen before," she said as picked up her wand from her table of belongings. "However, when I tried to perform the spell again, I just don't seem to remember how I did it the first time. Could you tell me what happened?"
"The beginning of something quite extraordinary, Miss Granger," Dumbledore replied cryptically as he shut the door leaving behind two confused students with their heads full of questions and one sleeping student with too much on his shoulders.
Of course, Hermione, Matt, and Harry received their fair share of visitors that day, particularly after the last classes of the day were over. Hagrid and Madame Maxine were the first to stop by, with Hagrid doting over them to such an extent that it nearly killed the bed-ridden magicians. Fred and George stopped by late in the afternoon to try and cheer them up by offering some of their traditional gifts to friends in the infirmary: a toilet seat (which Matt hastily declined) and some Canary Creams (which all of them hastily declined). Many of the Gryffindors, particularly the fourth-years, had dropped by the check on Harry to see if he would be okay for the Triwizard tournament and Mandy dropped by to deliver some choice comments to them.
"The library is pretty empty without you three around. Madam Pince is looking for somebody to shush." The blond-haired Ravenclaw said deprecatingly as Hermione rolled her eyes. However, the most interesting visitor of the day chose to stop by while Harry, Hermione, and Matt were polishing off their hospital dinner of pork chops with mashed potatoes and gravy.
"Any chance I can get a bit of that?" Ron asked while he pointed at Matt's plate. "I only had three pork chops at dinner."
"Only three?" Harry said with a look of mock astonishment. "It's nice to see you're cutting back!"
"You should hear what the school is saying about you guys!" Ron said as he nearly hopped around from bedside to bedside. "Is it true you guys fought a hydra or was it just an army of dementors?"
"I'm afraid it was just a single Death Eater, Ron." Hermione said swallowed a spoonful of potatoes.
"Sorry to disappoint you," Matt followed up.
"You should see the shape the potions room is in!" Ron said excitedly. "Snape tried to use a Repair charm on the room but it didn't do to much good. He's been threatening to skin all of you alive the next time you come back into his class. You may want to watch out for him."
"It's nice to see that somebody in this school isn't worried too much about us," Harry said with a smirk.
"You're being awfully flippant today, Harry. It's awfully surprising." Matt said as he turned to his black-haired friend.
"Speaking of surprises," Hermione said while looking at Matt. "I believe you have something to tell Ron, if I'm not mistaken."
"I was just getting to it, you pontificating putz!" Matt shouted loudly in the hopes that Madam Pomfrey would come in and shoo Ron away.
"Well, what is it?" Ron asked. Matt ran a hand through his messy brown hair before he began.
"My name's not really Matt MacDougal. It's Matt McGonagall." Ron's eyes were so wide that you could have placed a knut in his pupils.
"McGonagall?" Ron asked, his voice suddenly quite rough.
"I'm Professor McGonagall's grandson," Matt said simply while he gave a nasty look to Hermione. "I changed my name because I didn't want anyone to know who I was."
"Whoa," Ron said, quite a bit surprised at the sudden turn of events. "So that's why she's so hard on you all the time! Good Lord, I'd never want that old hag as my grandmother!" Ron tried to choke back his words at that but Matt just smiled.
"Don't apology, I quite agree with you." Matt said.
"It's hard to believe that she hasn't come up to check on you today, Matt," Harry said as he pushed his plate to the side and settled back into his hospital bed.
"She wouldn't care about me if I died," Matt said huffily.
"I'm sure that's not true," Hermione said. "Professor McGonagall has always been nice to us. She was probably just too busy to stop by what with the security breach and every thing."
"You don't know her as well as I do, Hermione," Matt said as he violently drank a mouthful of pumpkin juice. "She doesn't care about anybody else except herself and her precious lessons! It's been that way for as long as I can remember! She'd probably be here to check up on her precious Gryffindors well before she ever stops to see her Ravenclaw grandson!"
Ron, Harry, and Hermione had seen this anger streak before from both Matt and Professor McGonagall, so much so that it was difficult for them to believe that they hadn't spotted the resemblance sooner. As hard as they tried, however, neither Ron or Hermione could really understand why. Sure, sometimes Ron hated his brothers and the way they always seemed to pick on them, but he'd never be this harsh with his words about them. Hermione had always had a close relationship with her grandparents from both sides. Professor McGonagall was almost a mother figure to the Gryffindor bookworm, and she often viewed the head of Gryffindor house as an inspiration. Harry understood Matt's behavior far more than Hermione or Ron ever could. He was well aware that your relatives were not always nice and supportive. Before the conversation could go any further, another visitor showed up the door. A visitor that was hardly as welcome or anticipated as Ron.
"Could you give me a good reason as to why you've been here for over twenty minutes talking about nothing, Ronald Weasley?" inquired a calmly irate Severus Snape. Ron couldn't seem to will himself to answer Snape's simple, if not insulting, inquiry. In fact, he suddenly found it incredibly difficult to breathe properly.
"Um, there's no reason sir." Ron spluttered as he gave a panicked look from Matt to Hermione to Harry. "Why are you here, Professor?"
"I wish to speak with these three alone, Weasley," Snape said not even paying attention to Ron's inquiry. "Kindly get out of this infirmary before I turn you into a stone and throw you out of the nearest window." That was all the motivation that Ron needed to stand up at an alarming rate of speed, murmur out a "goodbye" to his friends and rush out of the door leaving the Potions master alone with Harry, Matt, and Hermione.
Snape slowly strolled his way to the incapacitated students, much like a wolf circling its prey before it strikes. The light that the hospital candles seemed to be absorbed by the sallow-faced teacher, giving him an almost devilish look.
"Professor Snape," Harry began, "I just want to say. . ."
"Be quiet, Potter," Snape said while maintaining his eerily calm demeanor. "None of you are to speak unless I speak to you beforehand. Dumbledore believes that your altercation with Macnair is punishment enough for sneaking about where you didn't belong, but I strongly disagree with him. I may not be able to enforce any penalty on you three but I am certainly capable of getting the information I need from you. I want the three of you to answer all of my questions in a clear, concise, and truthful manner." Snape said, glaring at Potter as he emphasized the necessity for honesty. "Do I make myself clear, children?"
"Yes, Professor Snape." The three students said simultaneously. Snape didn't show the slightest amount of approval over their willingness to participate. If anything, it further convinced the hook-nosed Potions professor that they were guilty of more things than he already knew about.
"Now, Mr. McGonagall," Snape drawled out while the Ravenclaw tried to make himself as small as possible. "We already know that the three of you were up after hours. However, what gave you and Mister Potter the utterly foolish and insane idea to sneak into my dungeons?"
"We were, um, looking for something that would help Harry in the second task," Matt said, his eyes looking frantically from Harry to Hermione for assistance.
"So you were helping Potter find out about the second task, were you?" Snape said with a smirk. "Another illegal activity." Snape now turned to Harry. "And just what were you looking for in my store room."
"We were looking for gillyweed, sir." Harry said softly. Snape harrumphed as he walked towards Harry's bedside to stare at him directly in the eyes.
"Did it ever occur to you to ask me if you can have the gillyweed for the second task?" Snape asked him dully. Now it was Harry's turn to search his friends' eyes for an answer.
"We thought that you would have said no, Professor Snape." Harry said as he unwillingly began to sink back into his bed.
"It's nice to see that you managed to get one thing right yesterday, Potter." Snape said, his ever-present glare wearing down on Harry's defenses. "So, the two of you were stealing gillyweed from my store room, Macnair attacked you and the four of you nearly destroyed the class room that I have been teaching in for ten years in the process. Much of my work is in shambles, many of my potions books have been burnt or otherwise smashed, and you didn't even get yourselves killed to alleviate my suffering. Is all this correct, Potter?"
"That's pretty much it in a nutshell," Harry squeaked. Snape was now so close to Harry that their noses nearly touched.
"Here's a bit of advice that I would like you to share with your friends, Potter," Snape said as he gave brief glances to Matt and Hermione. "The next time that you heroes," Snape said sneering at the concept, "choose to exercise your frustrations in a physical manner, please choose a location that doesn't involve my possessions being destroyed in the process."
"Yes, sir," Harry said meekly, his throat quite dry.
With a whirl of motion, Severus Snape stood up and briskly made his way out the door, his black cloak swishing behind him with every step.
"Professor Snape!" Hermione cried just as Snape's left hand wrapped itself around the door handle. "May I ask you something?"
Matt and Harry gave Hermione some very concerned looks while Snape slowly turned around, squared his shoulders, and stared at his top student.
"What is it, you silly fool?" Hermione ignored Snape's derision of her (she was quite used to it after being in his class for three and a half years).
"When we fought Macnair, I cast a spell I've never seen anyone cast before, a spell I've never even read about it. When I asked Professor Dumbledore about it he told me that it was something extraordinary but he wouldn't go into details." Snape turned around and wrapped his right hand around his weak chin.
"What does this have to do with me, Granger?"
"Well, I was sort of hoping that you could tell me a little bit about it." Snape gave a bitter chuckle.
"If you must honestly know what's so special, then I'll tell you. You cast the Incindarinus charm, a much stronger version of the Incendio spell that is supposed to require a great deal of concentration."
"What's so special about that, Professor?" Harry asked, once again rising up to a sitting position.
"Because the spell hasn't been properly performed in over eighty years," Snape said simply as he turned around and left the infirmary.
"That went well," Matt said.
"At least we didn't lose any points this time," Harry said shrugging his shoulders.
"I'm more worried about what Snape will do to us once we get back in his classroom," Hermione said as her head slammed against the pillow. "All this trouble and all we've gotten out of it is a mass of nicks and cuts, some broken bones, and even more trouble. We didn't even get the gillyweed!" The brown-haired Gryffindor expected Harry or Matt to say something to that so she was quite surprised when the two boys simply responded with huge grins.
"You underestimated us, Hermione," Matt said, his sly smile returning as he used his wand to summon his knap-sack to his bedside. He opened up the center pouch of it and rooted around for a few moments before procuring a gray slimy ball of what Hermione thought looked like a collection of tied rat-tails.
"How did you get that out of the dungeon?" Hermione said as she took a closer look at the gillyweed.
"Matt covered the thing with one of his invisibility potions so that no one would see it," Harry answered.
"So we got something out of this after all," Matt said exuberantly. Hermione's cheeky smile was brilliant as she stared at her two clever friends.
"This is wonderful!" Hermione said as she stuffed the gillyweed back into Matt's knap-sack. "Now all we have to do is to prepare you for the second task, Harry."
"And we've got more than a month to take care of that," Harry finished with a smile as the three friends whooped and congratulated each other for a job well done. Madam Pomfrey came in several minutes later with three freshly prepared sleeping draughts which each of them eagerly accepted. As much as they were charged with anticipation of the upcoming days, they were all still quite worn out from their fight with Macnair. Fifteen minutes later, Harry, Hermione, and Matt were all sound asleep, each of them snoring lightly as the gentle light of the full moon shined on them.
The students' last visitor of the night entered the room quietly thirty minutes later. It was a small, brown and white tabby cat with spectacle markings around her eyes. The feline had spent much of the day watching over the injured forms of the young wizards, not making its presence known to anyone but Dumbledore. With a swish of it's little, black-spotted tail, the tabby cat almost marched to the center bed where Matt was sleeping. A short leap brought the cat up to the bed itself and it watched the young man's slow breathing for quite a while. Once she was satisfied, the tabby cat stretched its legs lazily and swished her tail about a bit and curled up at the far side of the bed and continued to watch Matt for quite a while before dozing off herself.
"It seems that the first portions of Riddle's prophecies are coming true, Professor Dumbledore," Snape said as he walked hastily along side the Hogwarts headmaster, their path only lit by Snape's wand. "We should have been better prepared for this!"
"We must not frustrate ourselves on what has already occurred, Severus," Dumbledore said sagely. "We must focus ourselves on being better prepared for what is ahead."
"That spell that Miss Granger used against Macnair. It appears that her hidden power may be making itself known well before the boys' has. Do you realize what this means?" Snape said, trying not to be perturbed by Dumbledore's calm demeanor.
"Yes, it means that I win the Riddle prophecy betting pool," Dumbledore replied. "You should have had more faith in Miss Granger, Severus. I'll have to call Ollivander tomorrow to collect my winnings."
"This is a serious matter, Albus!" Snape shouted through gritted teeth. "This means that Voldemort's revival will be happening soon!"
"I'm afraid that there is little we can do to prevent Riddle's return to power, Severus," Dumbledore said gravely with a bit of a sigh. "Pettigrew is more than capable of avoiding the Ministry Aurors until the deed is done."
"You show an alarming amount of respect for that worm's capabilities," Snape grumbled.
"Do not start to underestimate him, Severus," Dumbledore warned. "Mister Black made the same mistake, as did James and Lily." Severus shuddered at the mention of his old school rivals. "He's already made fools of all of us several times this year alone."
"The little rat can't run away forever, Albus," Snape said coldly.
"It won't be long until he won't have to run any longer," Dumbledore countered. Snape and Dumbledore continued their trek towards Dumbledore's office with only the sound of their footsteps accompanying them. Once they arrived at the Headmaster's office, the light snoring of Fawkes, Dumbledore's pet phoenix, was the only sound about. Dumbledore walked into his domicile slowly, stroking Fawkes' brilliantly colored plumes as he removed his gaudy hat from off his snow-white hair.
"I want you to look after Potter, Granger, and McGonagall, Severus." Dumbledore said as he slowly took a seat in his favorite chair. "Even Mad- Eye can't be watching them all the time." Snape grumbled a bit upon hearing his latest assignment. The idea of following those meddlesome troublemakers was hardly the most important thing he could do with his time.
"Are you afraid of doing this, Severus?" Dumbledore said with a jolly smile. "I'm sure that the worse thing they could do to you is make you smile. I'm sure you will be able to survive their company."
"And what will you do with the children, Albus?" Snape asked.
The aging headmaster gave a wistful glance at the full moon before replying. "They must be prepared, Severus. They are capable of doing things that the world has not seen in hundreds of years. We will let them see their own way for now. They will begin their formal training when the time is right."
Snape thought he saw a tear running down Dumbledore's face, but he just chalked it up to a trick of the light.
"I just wish it didn't have to be this way, Severus."
Another wild chapter comes to an exciting close. Well, at least I hope you thought it was exciting anyway. Quite a few things were revealed here, probably a bit more than I wanted to reveal at this stage of the game, but I'll just have to roll with the punches as they came. Once again, thanks for reading my humble work and I would appreciate it if you could review my story. I promise that I will reply your review with one of my own. Scouts honor. Anyway, how about the next chapter preview?
The 24th of February has rolled around and its time for the second task! Matt and Hermione will take a backseat as The Boy Who Lived takes center stage. Will he shine again for the entire wizarding world to see as he challenged the tricks and traps of the merpeople? Will he be able to keep up with Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor? Find out the answers to this and more in the next stirring installment of Harry Potter and The Scholar of Mystery: The Second Task. Coming soon to a computer screen near you.