Self-Writing Parchment
…the weak – af-ah-th-chew – betrayal of the discontented…
Sybill Trelawney
Is it 'the weak betrayal of the discontented' or 'the week of betrayal of the discontented?
Too bad Sybill had a cold when she'd made the portents to Severus.
Firstly I abhor violence and abuse toward children – anyone actually. I know that the abuse if hard to read – it is hard to type – but thank you for sticking with me.
I'm sorry for any and all typos – I'm owning up to them.
~beaweasley2
~o 48 o~
Betrayal of the Discontented
~H~
That Monday morning, Hermione had been Cruciated in Muggle Studies thrice: first 'for insolence' when she'd given an answer precisely how Alecto had phrased the information last week in class; then again being accused 'of insubordination' for not raising her hand to another question which she hadn't even been called upon to answer; and finally, for deliberately not answering a third question 'in an insolent manner' again even though she hadn't been called upon for that one either.
She'd missed Potions because Cillian insisted that she be checked out by a Healer and get some potions to revive better.
Then on the way down the stairs to get to Transfiguration, at least fifty students were pushing and shoving, all clamoring to get up the stairs in a frightful hurry and she could hear the muted sounds of cracks and bangs from spells being fired below. Another fight in the castle.
However, Cillian and Draco wanted to intercede, so once she, Cillian and Draco reached the landing, Hermione saw several of her friends, firing spells down the corridor at Millicent, Crabbe and several sixth years as the fight progressed in their direction. Farther down corridor behind the fight, the VanHala and Rowle were trying to reach the Slytherins, forcibly shoving students out of their way.
More students not caught up in the foray in the corridor, crouched down along the walls and in doorways trying to evade being hit or ran in her direction as they tried to get away, but some of them did get hit by the various spells being cast. Behind her, many other students stopped and took cover along the wall of the staircase while others tried to go back up, warning others to go back up also. To make things worse, the corridor leading from the other side of the landing was covered with thick, slimy, undulating goo and across the landing the downward staircase also had sounds of fighting as well – so the stairs she'd come down was the only option of escape.
Cillian quickly shoved Hermione behind a suit of armor casting a Shield Charm to protect them. Nevertheless, Draco fired defensive spells down the corridor, at whom Hermione couldn't see, but cursing and shouts were heard, and the explosions of spells that hit the walls and floors.
As the fight drew closer, the spells being cast became aggressive and a few of the sixth years crouched along the walls began to cast equally aggressive spells around friends' shield charms.
"Get Hermione out of here," Cillian shouted at Draco.
"I – can't," Draco spat back at him, firing another hex and ducking back for cover. "We're cornered!"
He was right, as Travers with Messer Carmichael and Zabini entered the fray from the upper level, shoving and stunning the scared students in their way down to the fight. Hermione risked a peek; learning out from behind the armor, and from her angle she thought she saw Parvati behind a tapestry and Seamus and Michael were trying to hustle the students behind the tapestry as well. "Stop them, Gwynek, don't let them get away!" Travers shouted.
Hermione felt a fiercely strong Disarming Spell hit the wall beside her and she quickly drew back into the space beside the suit of armor.
"Stupid Mudblood," Carmichael sneered above the shrieks of other students, intermixed with the cracks and bangs of repelled and deflected spells.
"Tell your friends to give up," another girl snarled.
Sharp bits of rock fell as bangs hit the wall above her. She pulled herself tighter into the small alcove and transformed into her ferret form. She counted to three and jumped around the armored legs and scurried as fast as she could for the downward stairs.
"Aw, Weasley rolled down the stairs," a boy said as Hermione slipped by him and down the steps, hoping she'd not tumble.
No such luck. A ricochet Stunning Hex hit her in the back and the legs of Ginny and Tinko hurrying down the stairs beside her, and they fell the last few stairs, taking down a few other students with them. Hermione quickly transformed herself back as the others started to sort themselves out, scrambling to their feet. The students that could ran for shelter.
But Hermione couldn't flee; she felt the sharp excruciating pain in her legs and one arm and cried out in pain. Someone touched her gently and she opened her eyes to see Mr. Schlinder and Immodine Clearwater, still in her Healer training robes, leaning over her, both with their wands out. Behind them on the stairs, Hermione saw Nott and Breanna fighting with Garrett Shadwell, Wilberforce Wodehalle and Isabel McDougal, while Gerald and Ernie crouching on the top steps, were firing spells into the commotion still going on from the floor above.
She turned her head to look at her friends; they'd been hit hard by the spell that had tripped them. Ginny and Tinko remained on the ground, dazed and hurt: Ginny, one hand holding her shoulder, had a broken nose, cut lip, and one of her knees had reversed position; Tinko's head was mutating and growing intensely large, and both of her knees were reversed as well. "Amycus' Mutatio Skullus and the Knee Reversal Hex!"
"Hermione stay down, I'm trying to mend your legs," Immodine said, her attention on her left leg as Schlinder held a Shield Charm to try and protect them. She could still hear some fighting from above. "Hermione, your leg is broken, possibly the other ankle – please keep still."
"Who?" she asked, covering her head as a spell hit the floor near them.
"I'm not sure… but Nott stunned someone before you appeared under the pile of sixth, fifth and fourth years," Schlinder said.
"I'll sort out our friends next, I promise," Immodine said, the glow of her wand showing her fracture. "Not too bad. I can fix this in a jiffy."
"What is going on here!" Professor McGonagall said, before she came into Hermione's view. "Will she be all right, Miss Clearwater?"
"Yes, but the commotion wasn't helping," Immodine stated, then said, "Ferula," and bandages wrapped around her leg, splinting he newly healed bones and Hermione felt immediate relief in her left leg, but her other leg really hurt.
Suddenly the stairs flattened into a slide and the students who'd been fighting on them slid down, landing in a heap. "All of you are to have detention," Professor McGonagall said. "The rest of you are to move along to your lessons unless your injured. Anyone still loitering when I count ten, will also have detention." The students cowering along the walls quickly scrambled away.
Hermione's right leg suddenly snapped into place, making her cry out. Immodine repeated, "Ferula," again, and Hermione's ankle and lower leg were bandaged as well. "Thank you, Immodine."
"You're welcome, but you should thank Schlinder, he's the one who shielded you and the others from the misfired spells."
She turned to look at Nott's friend. "Thank you, Schlinder. I appreciate it," she said.
"Marek," he said softly. "Maybe you can reciprocate later," he whispered to her and helped her sit up.
"Ow, my arm," she gasped, and he quickly apologized, supporting her arm more delicately.
Immodine immediately healed it and used the Bandage Charm again. "I've done what I can for now – but you'll need to come with me once the up there fighting stops so that I can fully heal your bones."
"Take her to my classroom, I have the relevant potions in my cupboard where I keep the animal provisions," Professor McGonagall said, returning the stairs to their original state. "Roseus Equidae will open them."
"Yes, Professor," Immodine said, and she and Marek helped Hermione to her feet and supported her as they went to the Transfiguration classroom. Hermione sat down at her desk, Marcus beside her as Immodine went to see what Professor McGonagall had in her stores.
"Thank you for helping me," Hermione said to him.
He glanced over to where Immodine was searching in the pantry-sized cupboard "I have been helping you," he said, softly, his German accent discernable.
"You have," she said, affirming his statement.
"Ja, I have, most of the year," he said, softly.
He has? She thought back, remembering moments, times he'd been with Nott. He had helped her – discreetly – avoiding notice, but he had helped and protected her. She realized she'd not noticed at the time. Gryffindors are not subtle – Slytherins are, and sly. She understood what Cillian meant. And they are proud. Marek obviously hadn't wanted his actions seen or known.
"Are you from Germany?" she asked instead of making him explain further and embarrass him.
Her question seemed to surprise him. "Ja, my family are. We moved here because my mother wanted to have me and my sister going to Hogwarts," he said, shyly. "Little did she know how dangerous a school Hogwarts is: a corridor that would cause a most painful death; a basilisk let lose in school to petrifying students; a demented prisoner who escaped Azkaban got into the castle to attack someone; a dragon was escaped and flew over the school and Cedric Diggory died in the tournament. Then the Dark Lord came back, and Death Eaters attack the school killing the Headmaster. But this year – this year is the worst. I hope I survive."
"You have so far," Hermione said giving him a weak smile.
Immodine walked over with two potions. "These will help you," she said, giving Hermione doses of both. "I need to check on Miss Weasley and Miss Wang. Will you be all right here until McGonagall comes back?"
"Ja, she will be safe," Marek said, and Immodine nodded and left, leaving them alone in the classroom. Marek's posture relaxed. "Theodore is my friend," he said. Hermine nodded, and then he nodded. "He tells me I should trust you. May I trust you?"
"Of course," Hermione said. "Marek. I thought…? I overheard Nott calling you Marcus."
He huffed a laugh. "He does. My name is Marek, but Crabbe and Goyle – and Malfoy – couldn't remember that so they called me Marcus. It stuck. Even Theodore calls me Marcus around them," he said. "I suppose Marcus is my Englishcised name."
"Well, Marek, I'm honored; please call me Hermione," she said.
He shook his head. "Nein, Marcus is better around others." He turned to look at the door. "I have wanted to tell you, but I hadn't the opportunity – Theodore said we should. Maybe I have time. I don't—" He turned to look at her and exhaled. "I agree with Theodore. I don't like this Dark Lord. He frightens me and my family."
Hermione felt sympathy for him. "I'm surprised you didn't return to Germany?"
He shook his head. "Nein. We moved to Richmond when I was ten, because my mother has an older sister who came here before the war – the Muggle war – on the Kindertransport. She needed assistance – we live with her. My mother loves the parks and open spaces, especially Richmond Park, the Yorkshire Dales and the conservation areas. My sister went to The German School in London, Deutsche Auslandsschule, but I started Hogwarts. I tell you this because I am not a supporter. My father was representative for the Internationaler Verband der Zauberer – the International Confederation of Wizards." He looked down at his clasped hands. "My father works in International Magical Cooperation now – head of Prussia and Austrian-Hungary relations."
He turned his head, looking at her earnestly. "We moved here only to find that we were targeted by his followers, wizards our family thought were friends, who made their support known when the Dark Lord returned and expected my father to support them. Now my father is trapped, and I'm going to be too, unless… well…"
"Unless Harry defeats the Dark Lord," she said for him.
"Ja, I heard the stories of his surviving the Killing Curse, and I read the articles about him – he being the Chosen One. I have heard you saying that Potter can defeat him. I heard he has faced him and survived – more than once. He must be a very powerful wizard," Marek said, looking at her with hopeful eyes. "You believe Potter can win."
"I do, yes," she said earnestly. Another Slytherin who wanted Harry to win? She felt hope and exuberance swell in her chest. Another one. I've converted another one!
"Count me in, I want to help Potter win," he said, still keeping his voice low.
The door opened and the students began to file in, preventing them from speaking further. "Attention please," Professor McGonagall said, walking to the front of the class. "As you can see, quite a few students are missing because of the disturbance and our class time has been shortened. So, I'll have you all write a three-foot paper on the Transfiguration on the board. Please include two modifications and the proper incantations and wand movement. You may reference your notes from your previous lessons."
~S~
Severus checked the clock and put away the papers on his desk in preparation for attending lunch. Hermione would be out of her lesson in a few minutes, and he should go and retrieve her. He hadn't heard from Cillian or Draco and assumed they were still in the hospital wing.
Already he'd had to deal with the fallout of the fight on the third-floor corridor. VanHalal and Rowle had both claimed that the students they'd been after had magically disappeared behind a tapestry which had hung near the staircases. However, even though they'd torn the priceless thing in half – there had been nothing there except solid stone wall. Nevertheless, they'd persisted that the students had taken refuge there. Severus had asked Filch to take the tapestry down so it could be properly repaired, then had turned on the two men and told them, "This will come out of your stipends, unless you wish to make recompence for the damage yourselves. Either way, this is considered defacement, and I will have to report it to the school governors along with all the other damage done in the castle this week."
Not wanting to have it reported, Rowle had immediately suggested that a donation to the school to repair the tapestry would be sent forthwith. Severus had given him until Friday, when the weekly report had to be sent.
The bell tolled, and Severus granted entry, hoping it was Cillian back from the hospital wing.
Instead, it was Alecto. "I'm still waiting for your report. As Deputy it is your responsibility."
"Professor McGonagall did it, I'm sure," she said, walking over.
Without looking up he said, "That is irrelevant – it is your responsibility."
"That's not why I'm here," Alecto said, sitting in the chair in front of his desk. "I'm tired of all the years having their own lesson time. I want to combine classes on same day to make my lessons more efficient."
He looked up at her, hardly amused. "You're joking?"
"No. I have too much to do, and I spend all my time in my classroom or marking homework," she replied, checking her nails on one hand. "Twice a week would be acceptable – first to fourth years in one class and fifth to seventh in another."
"You're a professor – professors teach. And it's much too late in the school year for such requests, which would be denied, regardless," he said dismissively, mentally cursing her. "And I have reported my wife's abuse to the Dark Lord. Or did you forget that she has been Marked – by him – as his?"
Alecto sat up strait, gripping the armrests. "She has been—"
"Nothing but compliant. She gives Cillian and Draco no problems and obeys the restrictions I have imposed on her without complaint. You on the other hand – I get hundreds of complaints about your conduct every week. You and your brother. Now if you will leave, I need to check on the condition of the castle stairs and corridors, and report that to the Dark Lord as well."
She rose in a huff, still mouthing off at him. He hexed her, a sharp Stabbing Hex, and she turned, on him furious. "I have been lenient – too lenient. I suggest you get out of my office and – do your job."
He slammed the door behind her and returned to his desk.
"Severus."
He looked up Dumbledore's image. "You must be careful; you cannot show your hand to them yet. Be patient. Things will come together when the timing is right."
"And when will that be?" he asked.
"Soon enough," the old wizard soothed. "Oh, and Mr. Schindler, Miss Greengrass and Miss Whitehall are waiting for Mrs. Snape and will likely escort her to the Great Hall for lunch although the chamber across form the Entrance Hall would be preferable."
"Peren will sees to it, painted Headmaster, sir, rights away," Peren said and left with a quite pop.
"Lovely house-elf, that one," Dumbledore said, then added, "Oh, and Mr. Gareth Fawley and Mr. Marcus Flint are approaching the school."
Outstanding. Now what? He left, heading for the Entry Hall.
~H~
Hermione received a note from Nott before Wizard Language and Literature class. She opened the note and read it, keeping it hidden below her desk.
Too many of your friends are going missing. I'm supposed to get you to tell me where they are escaping to.
I also have to ask you where Potter is, and we need to have that conversation.
Please, its important. Theo
The next second it burst into yellow confetti and vanished.
After class Nott and Marek took her to another small classroom and shut the door. They grilled her about Potter, except she really didn't know where Harry and Ron were. The threatened to curse her, Confounded her, tried the Imperious which Hermione pretended to take a while to repel but confessed she'd met up with Harry at the River Thames under the Richmond Bridge. "They were going to the Forest of Dean," were the only locations she'd remembered.
"But where did they say they were going?" Nott persisted.
"Somewhere there was skiing, but I didn't see the postcard image," she admitted.
Nott tried Belinda's Inception Spell, one she knew the effects well, but he only used it to ask the same questions.
Neither tried Legilimency.
Suddenly they stopped. "Fine, we'll take you to the Headmaster, now," Nott said coolly.
"We're done?"
"For now," Nott said. But when they reached the stairs behind the phoenix, Nott stopped her from opening the door. "I appreciate all you do for Glenwynn and her friends. Marek told me he told you, and yes, he and I agree," he said softly.
She nodded, understanding him.
"You know, my father was there in the graveyard when he returned. At his Muggle father's grave," he said in a hushed tone. "Here he is spouting his pure-blood mantra and he's a bloody half-blood, even if his mum was supposedly a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself."
"She was," Hermione replied softly. "I believe the Gaunt family were descendants of Salazar Slytherin, their family line certainly went back centuries, and they were all Parselmouths. His mother had a locket that belonged to him."
"I'd like to see that locket," he said, and she replied, "Okay, I'll try and get it."
Nott looked at their knees, then back up. "I want to court Glenwynn – properly – but her family is not in good standing at the moment. I… when this is over and if Potter defeats him for good, I don't want to end up in Azkaban." She tilted her head, but he held out his arm and pulled up his sleeve. Even in the dim light, she could see the golden lion in the embrace of the snake. "I want this to mean something – that I chose the right side even though I was forced to take the Dark Mark. I had no choice; I was going to be Marked anyway. I chose to have the lion – to watch over you."
She smiled and touched his fisted hand. "The symbol itself shows what you're saying – the snake isn't strangling the lion – it is embracing it. See."
He looked at his Mark and watched the snake undulate, but the lion didn't seem to move. Suddenly Hermione's arm burned. She looked up at him worried. "Is this a summons?"
Nott waited, his jaw clenched. "No, but he's angry." He pulled down his sleeve. "Let's go inside – I need to see Professor Snape."
She opened the door and greeted Severus, then headed upstairs to give Nott privacy with Severus out of respect to Nott.
~C~
Cillian had said Peren's name and had asked the house-elf if Hermione was all right. The little elf had appeared at his bedside and had assured him that she was fine. He'd relaxed his head back on his pillows as she'd asked him if there was anything she could do for him. "Sweet elf," he'd murmured, as he'd started to doze off. He'd been thinking about Ammonites, those black snail-like fossils found around the lake, and how Dianne would love some, before he'd fallen asleep.
When he woke up again there was a pretty bowl full of them on his bedside table, a few cards and some… daffodils? Who'd send me flowers…? Dianne?
The first card was from Bell. He vanquished the card not caring about Larissa Roquewood's betrothal or that Bell had moved onto another feckless witch. The next was a get-well card from Hermione which made him smile because she'd had Severus sign it as well. He'd keep that one. Another one from his brother, Justin, asking if the job was too strenuous.
He picked up one of the Ammonites, wondering about sending them. He'd already sent Dianne a gift on February fourteenth for Valentine's Day: a necklet of Scottish pearls that had a large aquamarine stone surrounded by pears at the center. It had three dangles suspended from the center piece, each a heart-shaped aquamarine with a large pearl drop. The aquamarine stones had a very nice, rich color. It had belonged to his mother and her mother before that and considering what Bell had done to their parents and Ol' Ben, he didn't want her to have it.
And he had picked up a beautiful strand of golden South Sea pearls for her birthday coming up. The pearls' interspaced knots were magically covered with tiny gold spacers. Both would be beautiful on Dianne. He redressed into his robes, apparently not the same one's he'd had on when he'd arrived. Did Peren take my robes? He pondered. And she must have brought the ammonites. He'd ask her to take them and the necklace to Dianne on her birthday. It is getting too dangerous to leave Hermione unprotected now to ask to go myself… unless I go at night? He really wanted to see Dianne, spend time with her.
He pocketed the cards and asked another house-elf carrying bedpans if the bowl, daffodils and stones could be taken to his room and of course the elf said yes. As he approached the moving staircases he saw Alecto and Amycus trying to get to Mr. Longbottom, apparently not above shooting horrible hexes at the boy – well, young man, Mr. Longbottom was his height, extremely agile and dexterous. And fast.
Amycus shouted at Cillian to, "Stop him! Geet the boy, Gwynek." So, Cillian chased after Mr. Longbottom – fighting the staircases as he did so. Only he was faster, by far more fit than the Carrows having followed Hermione all over the school since September, and he knew the secret of the stairs from Severus on how to make them pause for him, but he refused to hurt the boy. His curses missed their mark. Still, he was winded when he'd reached the seventh-floor landing.
Unfortunately, Amycus was on the stairs behind him as Cillian stepped off. Luckily the stairs shifted, leaving Amycus cursing behind him and shouting, "Get the boy, Gwynek! Stop him! Don't let him get away!"
He took off running, following Mr. Longbottom. He'd just turned the corner, going down the corridor Mr. Longbottom had taken, when he spied the boy open a door. Cillian ran to catch up but heard the door close. However, when he drew near it wasn't there. The wall was solid. No magic he tried revealed the door. He turned and leaned against the wall and looked at the tapestry of the wizard with some ballerina trolls. I've been here before. This same spot. What is the significance of this spot?
He pushed off the wall and headed for staircases that didn't move.
~H~
Hermione was in the lab brewing the Memory Potion and reading the Black Fire Potion from Severus' potions journal during her revision time before her Herbology class. It was Tuesday, which was always a nice reprieve from Mondays' tortures, just as Thursdays were after a grueling Wednesday.
Beside her the Mandrakes were stewing, in preparation for the Mandrake Restorative Draught. "Planning on starting your own surgery?"
She jumped and spun around still holding her knife. "You startled me!"
"Apparently," Draco said as he looked over her shoulder at the contents of her cauldrons. "Mandrake, Memory Potion and… Severus' Black Fire Potion—" He stepped back. "Is that the next obstacle for the Carrows – Black Fire?"
"No, I need them… and I wish I could speed up the process. Mandrake takes three weeks to prepare before brewing the Restorative Draught, and Memory Potion takes nine days to mature properly if you want full strength – but I need them right away."
"And the Black Fire Potion – what is that for? Are your friends going to use the Black Fire spell on the corridors?" Draco asked. When she hesitated to answer, he got angry. "It's a Dark Arts spell, Hermione, and dangerous to use. The portraits are going to hate your friends if they singe their canvases."
But she didn't know why Harry wanted that one; she was still waiting for the opals, silver and pyrite he promised to send. "Harry needs it," she relented. "I don't know why."
Draco seemed to consider her confession. She bit her lip, then realized she needed to add her ground gingko to the Memory Potion.
"You have spoken to Potter," Draco stated.
She nodded.
Draco waited, starring at her. "I have the Mandrake Restorative Draught and Memory Potion in my chest. And I can get the ingredients you need for Severus' Black Fire Potion. Some which are in my chest as well."
"You'd do that – for Harry?"
He shook his head, "No – yes, but mostly for you."
She replied, "Thank you," as she turned to stir in the red wild poppy petals into the brew.
Draco turned and walked over to his cupboard and the chest he stored there to retrieve the things she needed. He has no idea how she'd send them to Potter, but he was beyond caring at this point. He hated his life and what his family had been reduced to. And Hermione and the Weaslette kept his secrets as far as he knew, something even his previous friends didn't do – especially now that his family were in disfavor.
Potter needs some Memory Potion and Severus' Black Fire Potion—" Mandrake Restorative Draught meant he must have run into something nasty; the potion was used on those who had been transfigured or cursed to change them back to their original state when other potions and Healing spells failed.
Potions and a cup. But what cup are they searching for?
He was going to find out.
~S~
Coming down the stairs, Severus heard the argument between Alecto and Filch, he paused at the top of the second landing and was unfortunately spotted by the witch. "The Headmaster will tell you – there are no excuses."
"Professor McGonagall," he called out and asked her to escort Hermione to lunch, then proceeded down to deal with the disturbance.
"The students escaped!" Alecto shouted at Filch.
"I locked the door, Professor. I always lock the door, you know that," he said in his defense.
"I told you to secure it properly. I even told you the spell," Alecto persisted.
"Does this conversation have to happen now – and right here?" Severus asked.
Alecto turned on him. "You were not in your office. That bloody conceited eagle-gargoyle wouldn't let me pass."
Severus suppressed a smirk, but his lips did quirk slightly. "I was obviously otherwise occupied."
"Alecto wants me office secured magically," Filch said, angrily. "Even the magic key is of no good."
"You lost the keys!" Alecto snarled.
Filch stared at her, his hands in fists. "Them was to the shackles and straps – Not the door. And they is a spare set. I have my keys to them in my pocket!"
Severus couldn't believe that he had to reminds Alecto, again, that Filch is a squib. "Mr. Filch does not do magic. If the door had been secured by a magical lock with a magicked key, then I suggest you, Alecto, change the lock and provide Mr. Filch with a new key."
Filch thanked the headmaster, but Alecto was still furious. "After you fix the lock on the door and create a new key, Alecto, you may then provide it to Filch in his office. It is time for lunch."
He turned heel and walked away ignoring her protest.
~D~
Draco overheard Ginny and Hermione talking about 'the cup' again in the library. Herbology class had been suspended because of a mishap in the previous class with the Euphorbia milii-dualis plants which when became angry were extremely poisonous and half the class had been sent to the hospital wing. He had no idea the importance of the cup, but it had to be if both girls were still talking about it. But his ears pricked up when he heard the Weaslette mention that she thought it might be in the Chamber of Secrets as their best bet.
He put the book he'd been reading back on the shelf and approached them. They immediately clammed up. "Good thing I cast the warding barrier – you both whisper loud enough to be overheard by anyone standing in the isles next to yours." He raised a hand to spell off their retort. "I heard you in the ghost's loo talking about the secret passage, so I know where it is but know you can't get in there, right?"
Both stared at him in shock. "You were not exactly being quiet. So, tell me the details," he said.
"I can't open it, I've tried," Miss Weasel answered.
"And I know more about the Dark Arts and Dark Spells than you do," he replied. "Show me."
"Not here," Hermione said.
Reluctantly they led him back to Myrtle's restroom. "It's here, the one with the snake is on the tap," the Weasel said, pointing at the same faucet as before. The one with the snake that didn't work.
"Myrtle said you had used a funny language – just as Harry had to open it," he said, fingering the serpent.
"Tom Riddle did," the saucy ginger stated.
He turned to face her. "No, you did, but under a spell. The memory must still be there – in your head. I can help you remember it, but you'll have to trust me."
"How?"
Fair question. "I'll give you a Memory Potion to help you focus, then use Legilimency on you. I'm not as strong as my aunt or Severus, but I'm pretty sure you don't want to ask Professor Snape."
"I don't know about this," she said, looking at Hermione.
"The Memory Potion is to help you recall the voice you used – the Legilimency is to find the memory if its suppressed," he said. "The odd language is most likely Parseltongue, since both Harry and the Dark Lord are Parselmouths. If I can get you to remember the sounds, the way you said it, I can help you repeat it."
"Or you can," she said suspiciously.
So much for trust. "No, I cannot. I'd be looking for the memory of you doing it, it's not the same as hearing a Parselmouth say it. Parseltongue is difficult that way – you must know it to speak it. But Tom Riddle made you say it – so you can do so again. I'll be back, wait here."
He ran all the way to the lab and back, hoping they'd still be there when he returned. They were, thank Merlin. Ginevra was still apprehensive, but Hermione had her hand on her friend's arm. "Here, take a good swallow of the potion, one mouthful," surprised she swallowed a potion labeled by Severus.
"Ready?" he asked, and she nodded, still uncertain. "When I enter your mind, you'll feel me. Don't fight me, just guide me to a time you were in here talking to the sink. Only the memory of when you were in here. I'll do the rest."
He tried, gently entering her mind, but the memory was befuddled. He asked for another memory, but the image was confusing. He probed it harder and exited her mind. "Take another swallow of the potion." She did, and he entered her mind again. This time the memories were a little clearer but had possibly been altered.
"Relax Ginny," Hermione said. "I taught you Legilimency and Occlumency; you can push him out if you need to."
He pulled out and stared at them. "You're a Legilimens and you can Occlude as well?"
"Yeah," she said, proudly.
"That's what's blocking me." He ran his hand down his face, then looked at her. "You need to let me see the memories. I promise I won't probe deeper. Only the memories you show me."
This time it worked, he saw her memory and a second one and a third. He asked to see the third once again, and it was clear and the hissing sounds discernible. He pulled out of her mind gently.
"Try saying it," he said. "Think what you want and say the sounds." It took a few times, but she managed it and the sink sank revealing the opening to a tunnel.
"And now we slide down," the Weaselette said, going first.
Hermione followed next. Draco could see her starting to stand before he slid out, making her fall over beneath him. "Sorry," he apologized, rolling off her.
"It's fine, I'm not damaged," she said, taking it like a god sport.
They followed the tunnel. Ginevra tried to ignore the long basilisk skin, but it impressed, then shocked Hermione at how long it was. Draco cut off large pieces on the way, shoving them into his pocket. "What, it's a potions ingredient."
"And how are you going to explain having it?" Hermione asked. "Plan on telling the school how to get in?"
"I can't, remember? Not a Parselmouth." He cut another off and shoved it in his pocket, too.
The Weaselette had reached the huge door and was getting it to open, this time without needing Draco's assistance, so she and Draco hurried to catch up to her.
Hermione stood in awed reverence once inside, Draco pausing for a moment as well. The chamber was huge. A very long, dimly lit chamber with towering stone serpentine pillars under a ceiling so high it was lost in darkness. Each snake head of the pillars lined the walkway, mouths open, forked tongues out, fangs taller than they were. "Scare you?" Draco asked.
"Intimating," Hermione responded in awe.
He was getting used to the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place. Water trickled on either side of the walkway, like a slow-moving creek. The basilisk carcass lay stretched out along the walkway and was larger and longer than the skin outside. And it smelled.
"Down here," Weasley called out. Hermione and Draco approached a large arch in the wall off to the side that hid the entrance to a penultimate chamber with four connecting chambers, two on either side.
The one he checked first contained small trolls, giant slugs and rats, and he closed that door quickly.
Hermione opened one finding animated suits of armor inside. So far neither were impressive at all.
However, the end of the chamber, the other chambers they opened were more impressive. "This seems to be where the old wizard may have practiced his magic and potions," Hermione said, looking at the items displayed.
"You think? Of course, it is," Draco said.
Hermione ignored his snark.
On the shelves were ancient Roman and Byzantine era style terracotta oil lamps, daggers, scrapers, late Bronze Age clay pilgrim flasks and covered jars, bowls of different sizes from many regions in Europe, rimmed plates, several Iranian potteries and spouted vessels.
On the tables were pitchers, mortars and pestles made from marble, granitic rock and African pearwood and an indented slab of rock used for the same purpose. Laid out on a tray were his spoons, rods, ladles, for stirring made of bronze, silver, iron, and in a jar, many implements carved from hardwoods: snakewood, dalbergia, hickory, mahogany, Bubinga, maple, oak and walnut. Persian, Greek, Roman household items and jars made of ceramic, stone, Snakewood and glass lined the back of the table against the wall and filled shelves. There were numerous magically bound books as well. Vessels carved from many of the hard woods: amaranth, pink ivory, rosewood, mahogany, maple, bocote zebra wood, African blackwood, and ebony.
Under the tables were ancient Roman amphorae, Greek oinochoe and loutrophoroi, Egyptiancanopic chests that held stone jars… of foul-smelling liquids, and a selection of cauldrons that ranged from Egyptian to medieval times, stacked by sizes.
Casks, boxes, and chests, dating from early Roman, Egyptian, Persian eras and older, were stacked along the other walls, several of the largest sitting on the back wall. These were all locked, and the Unlocking Spell didn't work… Nonetheless, it was a treasure trove of artifacts.
And everything was perfectly preserved, nothing broken or chipped. Only the ancient potions in the jars and the contents in various containers had turned to dust, remnant sludge or were too dried out to use.
To Draco it was the most amazing collection he'd ever seen; Slytherin's potions laboratory and magical work room, the Founder of his house.
They left and entered the last chamber. "It's a library!" Hermione exclaimed in excitement rushing in.
She was right. Papyrus and animal vellum scrolls so carefully magically preserved they were still pliable and felt as if they'd never aged. Stacks of cuneiform and hieroglyph tablets, each hard as steel, obviously magically preserved to last without breaking or chipping.
Hermione picked up three and smiled. "They are written in ancient Byzantine, ancient Greek and Mesopotamian. He was obviously well traveled," Hermione said in awe.
"And quite the collector," Draco added, looking at the items on another shelf.
"Listen to this. 'The basilisk has grown more than I expected, possibly due to its protected environment – so large it is now difficult to control. I have noticed that it could come out through the tunnels at will. I have sealed the chamber door with magic, but the basilisk, being a snake, can still get out. Thus, I have created a huge steel interlocking door and locked the creature in for good. Only I can open it.' Wow, I thought he could control it?" the ginger menace said, lowering a handmade book to her lap.
"Parseltongue allows the Parselmouths to speak to snakes, not necessarily control it," Hermione said.
He glanced over at her and shook his head at the skull she held in her hand, examining a small but obviously old skull.
She turned to Weasley, still holding the skull. "After Lockhart's dueling session our third year, Harry told me he'd tried to control the snake," she glanced quickly at Draco, "you conjured," then back, "but had difficulty keeping it from biting Justin. The only other time he'd spoken to a snake was when he was ten, at the zoo when he'd helped it escape."
"You do know that's a house-elf skull you're holding?" he asked, and she put it down immediately.
"But if Salazar sealed the chamber when he left the school so no more occupants would be petrified by the basilisk or be taken as food, then how did Tom know about the chamber?" Draco asked.
"He came down here when he was a student. And he killed Myrtle Warren… you know – the diary."
"It was opened before that," Hermione said. "Corvinus Gaunt – he'd claimed that he was a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin and wrote that he knew how to find it in his old schoolbook. The concealed trapdoor and the series of magical tunnels below the castle. It's on Severus' shelves in the sitting room. Supposedly he was a Parselmouth, and apparently his family linage had passed on the knowledge of the location for generations."
They looked at her in shock. "You knew how to get in?" Draco asked.
"No. Remember, I had been petrified," she said. "And Harry only spoke Parseltongue that one time in Lockhart's Dueling Club demonstration."
Weaselette shook her head. "No, the original entrance was demolished when proper plumbing was installed throughout the castle. Corvinus Gaunt hid the entrance to the tunnel in the restroom. Tom told me."
"I found letters. This is from Rowena Ravenclaw!" the ginger-head said, holding a binder full of mismatched parchments. She was looking at one that seemed to be a leaf the size of writing paper. "She was angry about his decision regarding accepting only students from magical families. 'I thought you understood the necessity of teaching all children who possess magical ability for their safety and for the communities in which they live. It's imperative they are taught to harness and to control their powers least their magic becoming unstable and uncontrollable, a dark force that slowly poisons and kills them…' I think she's referring to an Obscurus?"
"Let me see that," Draco said, striding over to where she'd been reading the letters.
"Salazar argued with Godric and Rowena numerous times because he would not accept students from non-magic families. It's not blood – it's arrogance. From the letters it is clear that the Founder didn't want to be bothered teaching what the students should already know – to read and write in Latin and Greek, have a notion of mathematics, and already know fundamental spells," she said, and looked down at the book in her hands. "Here, listen to this one. It's a draft copy, I think, of his response. 'Helga is more than willing to take those ill prepared children and spend her time teaching what they should already know, so why should I care. There are half-bloods who are better educated. I won't do it. They've too much to learn in a five-year period.'"
She turn the parchment. "Helga had written back, 'Salazar, dear, I understand your position, but you must also understand our dilemma. You want the more capable students to teach, to further their learning. I have spoken with Godric and Rowena and I have stated I'll take the others, gladly. I don't mind teaching the children the fundamentals that their station in life has not prepared them…' So, Helga did say she'd take 'the rest' so to speak."
"This is utter nonsense!" Draco said, reading over Weaselette's shoulder.
"Here you read them, then." She handed him the bound letters. "According to the letters he'd received, the other Founders are calling him on not taking serf or students from craft families or merchants, who did not have a proper education. So, he only wanted the children from wealthier families of the time who educated their children in languages, even if some of the others could do simple maths and make marks – they were just not up to Salazar's standards. That's why he wanted only witches and wizards from wealthy and wizarding families. It had nothing to do with blood – it was that he didn't want to teach them what he thought they should already know."
"But some of the wealthier Muggle families taught their children in those subjects," Hermione said.
"Not all of them – maybe the boys," Draco said. He turned his focus to Hermione as she faced him.
"They may have been taught in Latin and Greek as well as French, Spanish and possibly other languages, have a notion of mathematics," Hermione argued.
"Maths, Hermione, not the needed mathematics, and they would not know fundamental spells," Draco said, turning a page to another letter.
"Just don't be rough with the letters—"
"I know their historical importance, Weaselette, I won't damage them," Draco snapped, turning the page to another letter. As he read the girls looked through some of the other writings.
"Aren't you glad you took Ancient Runes and Language and Literature," Hermione asked her.
"I'm not adept with cuneiform and hieroglyphs, though. But Salazar was right, I was taught to read and write in Latin and Greek, and I was taught maths – for calculating volume, weights and mass, measurements, currency… and I learned the fundamental spells, and a few advanced ones, from watching my parents and brothers. I know you weren't taught all that, but you did know a lot – Ron said so."
"I knew some Latin and Greek from my father. He was impressed with how fast I learned it, so he'd challenge me. The more I got right, the more he expected. I loved pleasing him. I used to love helping my Mum cook, so she taught me weights, volume and measurements… the rest I learned at school."
"So, Ginevra, if you weren't so feisty and a troublemaker, you'd be in Slytherin," Draco said, closing the book a little harder than necessary. "Everything I was told is a lie."
"Not a lie, Draco," Hermione said, sting down beside him. "Maybe distorted a bit over a few centuries. Salazar was secretive, he kept knowledge of this place from the other founders, but he was an amazing wizard, and all of this proves how incredible he was. I don't know what made him want to have a basilisk as a pet, but otherwise…"
"I wasn't a pet," he said, "He wanted to get magical creatures caged up in the school to use as potion ingredients. From what I read he made a chamber behind his statue to hold it in." He looked up from the book cover. "We should take all of this. I want to read all of it."
"We can, however, we'll make copies. The originals must go to the Classical Antiquity of the first Millennium department of the National Archives at the wizarding museum in London! But we should copy everything for the school library," Hermione stated.
"Not a good idea," he started to say, adding quickly, "We'll discuss it; if the School gets a copy I want one as well."
"We'll discuss it," she retorted.
"But how are we getting it out?" Draco said, sweeping his hand, indicating the room. "It'll take at least fifty trips."
"Same way we collected the potions equipment for Severus," Weaselette said with a wink.
Hermione called for Peren to empty her beaded purse and bring it to her.
Peren called out to her a moment later, sounding terrified. "The basilisk corpse!" Hermione said, running out to her house-elf. He followed her.
"Peren comes, Mistress, but I not likes it here," she said, so nervous her ears and legs were shaking. "This is a bads place, Mistress," she added, cowering from the basilisk, clutching the purse to her chest.
Hermione held out her hand and Peren grasped her fingers. "I takes you to someplace safer," she said, but Hermione said, "No."
"Come with me" she said to Peren, and the elf obeyed, trusting her completely.
"You're going to get all this in that handbag?" Draco asked in disbelief as Hermione took the handbag and opened it.
"You'll see," Hermione said as Ginevra started to carefully hand over the tablets and small jars.
"I think we should leave the stuff in the other room here, for now. We can come back for it," Miss Weasley said. "Unless you feel the urge to come back."
"I told you I can't open the entrance without you," Draco said, stuffing a few books into his pockets. "I can't open it! I'm not a Parselmouth, remember?"
They discussed where to keep the artifacts: Draco suggest a room where things were hidden, but Weaselette said no. Hermione didn't want to have them in the Headmaster's tower because people could get in there. Weasley suggested a room on the seventh floor, that Draco declined. Finally, Peren suggested a place she found by mistake. "I haves the key," she said. "You haves to tickles the stone to make its mouth opens so you cans unlock it."
"And how did you find the room?" Draco asked.
Peren blushed. "I hads a itches and it spats the key at me."
"Where is Hermione, I can't find her anywhere?" Cillian said, barging into the room.
Severus extracted his head from the Pensieve as he stood up, then closed the cabinet. Freck! That damn blasted witch! Sybill Trelawney's head cold made two segments of the prophecy indecipherable because the bloody woman sneezed. And using Legilimency on the witch had been fruitless – she'd been in a trance when she'd given her portents and came out of it with no recollection of her lapse. He'd found her scatterbrained thoughts incoherent and muddled, and she had no memory of making the prediction.
The weak betrayal of the discontented… or possibly the week of betrayal of the discontented if the 'af' was a word.
Professor Camelia Reding-Rakepick, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were her only friends, but the two students were among the missing within the school, and he couldn't confide in Camelia.
"Did you hear me?"
"Yes, I heard you. I haven't seen her since this morning. I asked her to stay close to her friends and eat lunch here in the sitting room," Severus replied. He'd had an urgent owl from the Ministry and had been gone for several hours and had to eat lunch at the Ministry. He glanced at the clock and realized he was late for dinner. Time flies when you're preoccupied, Lily used to say. He cursed himself for being so distracted he'd not paid heed to the time. "I had assumed she had been with her friends from Slytherin since you and Draco were in the hospital." He rang the bell without the clapper, and Chiara Signorini, once a pretty witch of Renaissance Italy, floated into the office.
"May I help you, Headmaster?" she asked serenely.
"Have you seen my wife in the library today?" he asked, knowing that was her favorite haunt.
"Not since this morning. She was with Miss Weasley," she replied, the hem of her skirts swept through a chair leg as she came closer.
"Please ask the other ghosts to look for her," he asked.
She bowed her head, and said, "At once, Headmaster," and floated out of his office.
"Draco was discharged before me," Cillian stated.
"Maybe she's with him," Severus said and called for Peren.
She popped into the room a few seconds later. "Yes, Master, Headmaster, sir," she said, bowing. "Peren comes."
"Have you seen, Hermione?" Severus asked. Cillian leaned against his desk and crossed his arms.
"I haves, sir! She was with Mr. Malfoy and Miss Weasley, sir," Peren said, and laced her fingers together in front of her. "She is on her ways here, Master, Headmaster, sir. She is with Mr. Malfoy."
Satisfied, he turned to Cillian. "Let's eat here, I have a few things to discuss."
~G~
It was mid-week and Ginny was flustered that she still had no clue as to the possible location of the cup or the diadem. She entered the shelves in the library to look at Hogwarts A History. She knew that Hermione could quote the book, but there had to be some reference to Hufflepuff's cup or if she ever married somewhere. And Rowena's lost diadem was a dead end as well.
Helga and Rowena had been best friends, that she knew, but Helga's portrait in the basement near the kitchens had no idea the diadem had gone missing. "She didn't wear it all the time. Only on occasions," the Founder's image had said.
But as she approached the section on Hogwarts history and the founders, and the books on past headmasters and headmistresses she Draco holding the book. "Hello, Ferret, light reading?"
"No, Weaslette, I'm looking for an image of the cup," he said, but he was holding the page as if he were going to tear it out.
"No, wait, stop, don't rip it – copy it!" Ginny said, amazed at his audacity, but he let go of the page. "Here, Let me," she said, pulling a spare parchment sheet from her pocket and copied it. "The original is better," she said offering him the copy.
"Surprised you know that spell so well," he said, examining the copy. "I suppose you copy books instead of buying them."
"Yes, Draco, I use the library and sometimes copy pages to keep. Buying old books or new releases was not in the budget," she said, slightly annoyed.
"You've seen it?" he asked.
The question threw her for a moment. "Oh, portrait. Of course, it's in the corridor to the kitchens, before where you turn to go to the Hufflepuff dormitories."
"Naturally you know that?" he scoffed… but then asked her to show him.
"What – you've never been to the kitchens?" Ginny asked, and he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "Okay, okay, let's go."
Except he wanted to know the entrance and not be seen walking together. She smirked at his need to keep up appearances. "Go to the Entrance Hall as if you're going to your dormitory, then wait and follow as if you suspect something."
He nodded and left first, but she walked around the back of the bookshelf and excited from a different isle. Ginny turned into her Animagi form to avoid anyone seeing her, not that squirrels were common in the castle. Before reaching the last staircase, she found an inconspicuous place to transform back and hurried down to the door entrance. Glancing to see if he was there, but not seeing him, she entered the stairs to the basement. She stopped in the wide stone corridor waiting for him to catch up to her.
"Yeahhh, that wasn't conspicuous at all," he said.
She tilted her head and gave in an annoyed look, then said simply, "Let's go."
She walked past the huge painting of a bowl of fruit and stopped in front of Helga Hufflepuff's portrait. "Hello, Miss Weasley, have you come to see Luna? I'm afraid she's not in school. I am worried about her."
"I am too, I miss her," Ginny said, sighing. "I wanted to ask you about your beautiful cup."
Helga proudly held up the cup and told her the story of how it was gifted to her by Rowena and Godric, while Draco stared at the cup, taking in the details Ginny supposed.
"And who is this young man?" Helga asked. "A beau of yours?"
Before Draco could scoff at the idea, Ginny replied, "No, we're working on a project together."
"My family found a goblet we were told belonged to you. Obviously, they lied. It doesn't look anything like this one."
"Oh, I had many goblets, hundreds of them," Helga replied. "They are used in the Great Hall during meals with my plates and platters as well."
"Well thank you for obliging us," Ginny said and bid her farewell. Back in front of the picture of the bowl of fruit, Ginny asked if she could modify the picture she'd made. He handed her the parchment and she tweaked the image of the goblet to better reflect the one in Hufflepuff's hands. "Here, this should help, right?"
"Yeah, but show it to Peren, maybe she'll recognize it."
Ginny cocked her head.
"Peren belonged to my family; she was my mother's elf, and Peren's mother belonged to my grandmother and her mother before her and generations before," he quickly explained.
Ginny nodded. "Peren's ancestors – I get it. I'll find Hermione and ask her," she said and hurried away to find Hermione.
~H~
So far, Hermione's Wednesday was not so bad. After the fight which broke out Monday, the Carrows favorite students, especially Pansy, Millicent, Crabbe, Carmichael and Zabini, had been hexed or cursed (often both) frequently during these last two day. Consequently, they were in the hospital wing. And Peeves had joined in on the fun tormenting the Carrows at every opportunity, even in Alecto's class. Nobody who were in Hermione's class seemed to mind.
Moreover, the sixth years who'd sided the Carrows were also being attacked: five from Ravenclaw, three from Gryffindor and four from Slytherin, although Hermione only knew the three from her house: Garrett Shadwell, Wilberforce Wodehalle and Stephanie Adams, albeit not well.
And in Dark Arts, with his favorite students gone, the others attending refused to use the Cruciatus on each other. They wrote essays on why they should side with the Dark Lord instead. Hermione barely had enough reasons to fill a parchment.
Nott and Goyle waited for Hermione to pack her bad and walked with her into the corridor. Nott pulled Hermione into a boys' loo with them and forced the three boys already there to leave, then magically barred the door. "I want to talk to you," Nott said. "I'm supposed to ask you about the writing on the walls and the missing students. But I'm not."
"Where did Hanna Abbot go?" Goyle asked.
"What?" she asked. Goyle didn't like her – he was always harassing her.
Nott nodded, and Goyle looked at the floor. "I don't want to be… like my dad," he confessed. He looked up at her but didn't make eye contact. "I don't like the Dark Lord, he's – you know – and I'm terrified of him and the Death Eaters' ruling the United Kingdom. Father and my brother, Richard, are different… now. It was better before, you know, when he was gone. We were happier; now they aren't, they're like how Mr. VanHala, Mr. Rowle, Mr. Travers and Mr. Lestrange are."
"Okay," Hermine said, wondering why he said this to her.
"I wanted to tell Hannah, but she's gone. But I want to help Potter win. I want to be in Dumbledore's Army, but I can't appear to be a traitor. Father will kill me; the Dark Lord will kill me. But I… I'm Marked."
"He has the lion like Marek and I do – the same as Draco." She opened her mouth to defend Draco, but Nott held up his hand. "I already know. I see how he behaves, and he lets you get away with stuff – you and your friend Miss Weasley."
Hermione nodded. "Do you want me to talk to Neville and Ginny about this?"
Both boys said "No!" adamantly. "Glenwynn and I – our friends are part of an underground," Nott said. "You already know we've been helping you and the others whenever and however we can. Chiara Signorini, she's in the library a lot, the Italian witch ghost, she passes messages to your friends, so does, the Grey Lady. That's worked so far. But we are supporting you. We wanted you to know that."
He cast the Disillusionment Charm on Hermione and unbarred the door. "Just follow us out."
Hermione mulled what they'd said as she quietly followed them out. Slytherin is divided, and they have an underground group working behind the scenes helping my friends. Wow!
~H~
Hermione entered the office, finding Severus pondering the cloudy liquid glowing in a stone basin. "What are you looking at?" she asked. The stone basin was beautiful with delicate carvings, and runes and symbols adorning the rim, interspaced with gems. "Is that a Pensieve?"
"Yes," he said, and moved to close the cabinet, then stopped. "I want you to look at the image inside."
Hermione did and watched as Professor Trelawney went into a trance and gave what she was sure was a real prophecy. "Is that—?" she started to ask, but Severus said to observe it again. When she stood up again, he handed her a piece of parchment with the prophecy carefully written out, but without the sneezes.
'For seventy-two minutes, the earth shall be cast in ruddy shadow…'That happened in December, the night of the Dark Lord's Winter Solstice ball. 'For seventy-two days the Dark Lord will reign…'"
She calculated the days by subtracting the last ten days of December, fifty-eight for January and February from seventy-two, leaving … "That brings us to March, and the Ides of March is next week. So, this is theweek, something, 'betrayal of the discontented…'"
"Or the weak betrayal of the discontented," Severus said, hating the phrase. It didn't make sense.
Hermione put her face back into the Pensieve, watching the portents again and again and listened to Professor Trelawney. "… the weak – af-ah-th-chew – betrayal of the discontented…" She stood up. "Af-ah-th-chew," she said, and looked again.
"It's a sneeze, Hermione."
"It's different from the other two – it's in syllables. "Af-ah-th… Af. Ah – Of. The – of the!" It's the week of the discontented – this week!
"The weak – of the – betrayal of the discontented," he said, sounding it out in his head."The betrayal bothers me."
"I'm far more concerned about the 'what the seventy-two more is…' That missing word could be days, weeks, months?"
"At least the ides of March shall cast light in the darkness," he scoffed.
Thursday after breakfast Draco pulled Hermione aside. "I think I have an idea where the cup might be."
"Cup?" Hermione asked, but he chuffed a laugh at her and said, "Yes, the cup. Hufflepuff's cup – the one you and Ginevra have been obsessing over. I think I might know where to look."
"You do? Where?" she asked sounding hopeful.
"Either my house, my aunt's home, which I doubt, or in one of my family's vaults."
She looked up at him stunned. "Do you think so?"
"It's a possibility and quite likely. My aunt is a zealous sycophant and worships the Dark Lord. She'd do anything for him. Hiding something important to him would only a simple favor to her. It's worth a shot. But being gone for a day – that is going to be trickier because the other Death Eaters here can't know I'm gone."
"Okay, I have revision time before lunch, let's talk then," she suggested, and he agreed.
After Charms, Hermione asked Nott and Marek if they really wanted to help Harry.
"Ja, you know I do," Marek replied.
"I have a problem that I am going to need your help. Can we meet up tonight during revision?" she asked. "I need to work out something and I need your advice."
They both agreed. Great, now to let Ginny know to meet us, too.
~G~
Ginny walked into the classroom where Hermione asked her to come and froze. Nott, Draco, Schlinder and Hermione stood in a circle around a table. She almost walked out.
"So, what we need is the sword," Draco said. "Hello, Ginevra, glad you could make it. My aunt bragged at Winter Solstice that the sword of Gryffindor is in the Lestrange vault in Gringotts – Hermione told me it's here in the castle."
"Was, it returned to the castle when I came back," Hermione said. "I haven't seen it lately, but I'm sure the Sorting Hat knows how to get it – it gave the sword to Harry to kill the basilisk. Thing is we need be able to communicate to each other to pull this off."
"I'm not giving up my mirror," Ginny said.
"We made mirrors to communicate," Nott said to Ginny. "We copied the idea from the ones you and your friends use."
"So, if the item we need isn't in my house, it may be in my aunt's house or in her vault," Draco said.
"Ja, I have been to the house, I can go check there," Marek said. "You said the Lestranges are living at your house, so it will be empty."
"Take Goyle with you, he's good at watching your back," Draco suggested.
Ginny stepped up to the table. "What connection does the Dark Lord have to her house? All the artifacts we've found were in places he'd chosen before his fall."
Draco looked at Ginny. "She was always a zealot, more so than either Uncle Lestrange or his brother. I do believe if this cup is that important she'll have it."
"And how are you going to get into the Lestrange vault?" Ginny asked.
"Aunt Bella and Uncle Rodolphus don't have kids, so I'm the listed heir to the vault. When my Aunt, Uncle and Rabastan were sent to Azkaban, my name was added to the records of the account. I can get in. We can also use Polyjuice to get one of you in. It'll be tricky, but as Hermione said, the sword will return to the castle and my aunt won't be the wiser."
"It should be Harry," Ginny stated.
"We'll also convince Harry to bring his invisibility cloak with him. Harry, if Polyjuiced to look like Rabastan Lestrange might make it easier," Hermione suggested.
"Do you honestly think Potter will go with me to my aunt's vault? Him and me – work together?" Draco asked and shook his head. "Won't happen."
"Leave that part to me," Ginny said. "Destroying the cup is a priority."
"And how are you going to get Rabastan Lestrange's hair?" Ginny asked.
"Bewitched Sleep Charm, maybe? It will induce a magically charmed slumber on the target – and the Mandrake Restorative Draught will wake them up afterwards. I've a batch simmering," Hermione suggested.
"Or we can use the Draught of Living Death," Draco suggested.
"That's an extremely powerful sleeping draught, putting the drinker into a death-like slumber, similar to a suspended coma," Nott said.
"The Wiggenweld Potion will wake him," Draco replied.
"We don't have those potions," Ginny pointed out.
"Want to bet?" Hermione and Draco said at the same time. She let Draco answer Ginny and Nott's shocked expressions. "What do you think I do in my spare time – read? I have them. They were made as a precaution if Hermione was too badly abused."
"And she isn't?" Ginny nearly screeched.
"They haven't broken her yet," Draco said proudly, looking at Hermione. "Our Know-It-All is a tough sort."
~~~o0o~~~
Author's Notes:
Chiara Signorini was arrested in 1519 towards the end of the Renaissance when her practice of magical arts had become general knowledge. There was a long inquisitorial process on her behalf, and it became very obvious that her only spiritual knowledge was of witch culture that she was eventually prosecuted. After confirming this through torture, Chiara was convicted of witchcraft. Rather than being executed, she was sentenced to life commitment to the Modena hospital for the poor.
