A/N: Thanks to my reviewers: Ayla Pascal (I've read Ch. 4 of GaS at Schnoogle and am desperately trying to find the time to read and review more!), DJ ("The Nowhere Man"? You should know that -- what did Remus call him all through that year? Yep! I've got to convert you to the Beatles...) Julia (girl, busy as usual or just fallen off the face of the earth? :-) La Chat Qui Garde La Lune (I think we've talked... *grin*), Lavander Ice (ditto... emails several pages long...), Lily Evans, Sorensen (sorry, I still have to reply, I know!), Tess (I know there's new chapters of "Love On the Quidditch Pitch" I've got to reivew...) Thanks for the encourgement and criticism. :-)
I also can't promise the next chapter will be up within a week. School is cruel, man. *grin* By the way, it looks like Sirius pretending to be Severus was someting that most of you liked... *wicked grin* Hey, we needed a nice dose of humour to balance the depressing stuff out...
Chapter 15: Of the Nowhere Man, New Year, and A Nimbus
31 December
When I left off writing, Carquel was showing Sirius and I to the Artifacts Wing. Once we finally got there… it was quite an impressive sight. I felt just as overwhelmed as when I first stepped into Diagon Alley. I wished I could look sixteen places at once. The Wing was nearly as large as Gryffindor Tower - well, perhaps not quite that large, but as large as a Hogwarts corridor. The shelves were filled with… things. Spirally things and solid things and not-so-solid things and large things and incredibly small and squirmy things surrounded me. One thing that sticks out in my mind is a jar of gold replicas of eyeballs. Whose, I don't want to know.
See this Eselilnac Eye? I asked Sirius through my MS Peppermint… which was wearing out.
No, but this thing is the size of the Santrax Sea! In his panic, Sirius sounded a little snappish.
How do I eat another MS Peppermint without Carquel getting suspicious?
Even through telepathy, I could hear Sirius sigh silently. I wish I had thought of this beforehand… don't unless the Golden Opportunity comes. He'll figure out what they are at a glance. Bet he invented them sixty years before I did. Wish I thought ahead as much as you - His voice slowly faded, and my peppermint dissolved.
Carquel seemed gruffly pleased at my incredulous expression. I was dumbstruck. "So, Miss Genius, recognize anything?"
Even if I had, between nerves and being overwhelmed I couldn't have placed it. I shook my head mutely before realizing I was playing "genius" and should act it. I pointed at one table in which a cat-shaped talisman stood. "W-What's that?" I asked. "It resembles something from the early Egyptian period…"
Carquel sort of smirked as he walked over to it; I followed. He began a long explanation which I didn't follow. I was fascinated, yes, but nervous. I glanced sideways at Sirius, silently begging to know what to do next. I slipped another peppermint into my mouth desperately.
"What's that?" Carquel demanded sharply.
"A - A peppermint," I replied. "Sorry. I have an allergy."
Carquel's eyes lit up. "To what?"
I was cornered for a moment before Sirius communicated to me: Say dogs, please. Less of a chance of him guessing. Obediently, I replied: "Dogs", wondering how Sirius had managed the slight of hand to get the peppermint in his own mouth. I hadn't seen him do it.
Carquel squinted, apparently confused as to why peppermints would help such an affliction. "It's a new development," I continued, "I'm not sure if you've heard of it, here. It… the, erm, essence of the peppermint calms the nerves that get worked up when I'm around dogs."
"Who says I have any here?" he demanded sharply. Uh-oh!
"That's a point I wanted to bring up," Sirius said casually. "There were some interesting claw marks outside, by the northern entrance…"
What? I asked in confusion. Sirius explained that he was lying, but had noticed the path to that entrance trampled and that he was playing on a hunch.
"Were you snooping?" Honestly, Carquel took the standoffish neighbour to a whole new level.
"No, dear sir, I merely glimpsed it and was curious; you're renown for breeding…"
Carquel's eyes narrowed. "Those were marks from a griffin." Obviously, Sirius was right about something on his "hunch".
Liar, Sirius thought disgustedly.
What if he's telling the truth? I asked him. If he is telling the truth, then the Death Eaters… they're pretty rare, and they'd love to get their hands on one. That could be really important to find out - to protect unsuspecting Muggles, I added to myself.
Sirius was silent for a moment while he asked Carquel about griffin habits and diet, apparently enthralled. You're too clever; I must be getting cynical.
"Griffins are fascinating; I've studied them forever but have never got a chance to get a firsthand experienced with one," I said earnestly. "Mightn't I see it?"
"That wasn't part of the bargain," Carquel said bluntly.
"Please," I begged, making my eyes as big as possible.
"No."
Git, Sirius communicated.
"How'd you remain sane for so many years? Tell me," Carquel turned to Sirius, ordering him sharply. I remembered his expression when I addressed him two years ago in the Shrieking Shack, as though no one had spoken a polite word to him in years. But then, I had a feeling Carquel did that to everyone.
"I was innocent," Sirius said simply. Hermione, act like a brat. Beg to see that griffin, and I'll cover for you if needed.
I don't want him to think - I stopped mid sentence, looking at the disagreeable man before me, and decided I was being stupid. "Can I see the griffin?"
"No."
Sirius took this opportunity to check about the room, walking as softly as possible.
"What are you looking for?" Carquel demanded, turning back to him.
Hermione, remember that map? Run!
I hesitated for one moment, before he said the magic words: Are you a Gryffindor or not? This is crucial to the war effort; any lead on the Death Eaters! The combination of the thought of being a worthy Gryffindor and that nagging fear of Mum and Dad dying because of this war - it caused me to duck from behind the two men and to pretend to meander through the artifacts while Sirius repeated: "I am innocent." I suspect they are the most important words in his life. At the moment, they were the most important in mine, as well.
I reached the door and slipped out into the corridor. Then I shot like a bullet when out of earshot - although at that moment I heard Carquel saying what sounded like a curse, followed by: "Where is that blasted girl?!" I ran for all it was worth, fumbling with the map as I moved. I managed to rip it pretty well and nearly ran into a wall as I tried to make sense of it.
While figuring out that the wing you would think he'd keep a griffin in didn't seem to even be on the map, a huge bang and explosion of blue smoke appeared right beside me. I managed not to scream - a dead giveaway if I had an angry Carquel on my back - but I was rattled and my heart seemed to go straight up my throat. Choking, I continued to run like a dragon with its head cut off, not even quite sure where I was going, just making sure to check around for a griffin, covering as much ground as I could. I choose the leftmost fork at every place I had to make a decision and must have run ten minutes or so when two things happened at once: I heard a sudden burst of noise, accumulating in a caw-caw-caw sound, and Carquel appeared behind me.
I reached for my pocket and found my wand. In a split second, I had cried the Jelly-Legs jinx. Not much in the way of elegance or showmanship, but highly effective… except that Carquel blocked it. Nevertheless, it gave me enough time to dig in the other pocket. This one, thankfully, held the Portkey. It jerked me and the world swirled around an instant before I blearily found myself in a living room of a Tudor-style house. Even with the sudden distance I had put between myself and Carquel's stronghold, Sirius's voice rang in my head: Good girl. I'm glad you didn't try to play brave Gryffindor too long.
I'm not, I retorted. Are you all right?
I'll live; now, no offence, but I need to concentrate!
"So you must me Miss Granger," said an older female voice. My head suddenly pounding (I had taken a nice blow by banging my head on a railing in flight), I glanced around to see - a ghost of a very pretty woman in about her eighties. "Nice to see you're all right; what about Sirius?"
"Sirius - Sirius is still there - negotiating, I think - er, who are you?" I asked confusedly.
She smiled, beaming brightly. "I'm Kat Mead. Nice to meet you."
Somehow, I felt as though all my history books had cheated me. This couldn't be the dark, cynical, temperamental, and snappish werewolf who killed Darmintry. This was more along the lines of the Fat Friar, Episode Two. "The same here," I managed weakly.
"Good thing you're here," she grinned. She had been leaning across the couch with a book practically upside down and now rightened herself. "Gives Patty and Al upstairs something else to do other than hang out in the bedroom." She winked obviously and I felt my cheeks redden at the implication.
Patty Millry - plumb, dark brown hair, and a kind face, no disappointments from textbooks there - came down almost instantly. "Kat, stop scaring the girl, for heavens' sakes! Give her a chance to catch her breath. Hermione Granger, dear, isn't it?" She knelt down and healed a few bruises I had picked up before straightening. "Ah. You're all right and probably full of a story. Some hot cocoa?"
Somehow, I had the impression that Ms. Millry had been quite a popular teacher.
"Erm, yes, please, if you don't mind."
Ms. Millry did so after quickly using variation of the Floo System to contact Professor Lupin. Then she sat me down and had a steaming cup in front of me in a matter of blinking, but somehow I didn't feel too rushed. That's about all that can be said for Ms. Millry, no deep dark things to get into, no oddities of character, just simply Patty Millry, ready as a Girl Scout and quite as nice as any grandmother you ever met… she reminded me a lot of Mrs. Weasley.
It was mind-boggling to think that Alastor Moody hadn't been the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher last year. Crouch did quite an acting job. The first thing Moody asked Patty was: "Are you sure this is actually Hermione Granger?"
Patty rolled her eyes. "Yes, Al. Any cocoa?"
"No, thanks, Patty. Where's Kat?"
"Alastor, sit."
It was amazing - Moody followed orders and sat obediently, as docile as anything. (He didn't drink the cocoa, but he pretended to fiddle with it before making it disappear into thin air after a while. Ms. Millry raised an eyebrow, rolled her eyes tolerantly, and it wasn't brought up again. It was odd to see such a hero of mine is henpecked… no, henpecked is the wrong word; Moody can't be henpecked. But worked with a whip and chair when necessary? Yes.) It was also odd, just sitting down to hot chocolate with some of the best former Aurors in the world. Just there. Me. I had been in some pretty elite company that day.
I grew worried, however, when I received no word from Sirius, even after eating another peppermint. I didn't want to send him a thought, in case I distracted him at a crucial moment, but my nerves were jangled as he remained silent and didn't Apparate. After an hour Lupin Apparated, however, and his first words were: "Hermione? Are you quite all right?" and secondly: "Isn't Sirius here yet?" I suppose since I wasn't bleeding to death in front of everyone, he didn't sound terribly concerned as he said the former, but he sounded very worried at the latter. By this time I had exhausted my peppermints and regretted it. "Wait a while, Remus. Sirius thinks he's invincible at times, but isn't too far off the mark," Patty assured him. "Drink some cocoa, I made it on purpose for company."
"Thank you, but -"
Patty cut him off by practically shoving a cup into his hands and staring him down until he submissively finished it off. She had some sort of cocoa fixation here. But the second two o'clock come 'round Lupin insisted on Apparating to Gilonean Wood, although Patty warned him that if he didn't return within half an hour, she and Moody were coming over.
Katrina pouted: "You had better not be leaving me out of this!"
Lupin had no sooner left than Sirius appeared with a small popping noise, looking considerably worse for wear. Patty had her wand out and was administering healing charms before blinking. Even after they healed, I could tell by the marks of recently healed cuts that Sirius had gotten a large thin one nearly all around his forehead and an almost perfectly round bruise right on his left cheekbone, and his left shoulder was bleeding through his robes.
"Carquel can almost best me at dueling," he grinned faintly, "and he's just as stubborn." That's all he would say; even Patty couldn't force him to say another word about what had happened, only what the end result was: "Well, I discovered for a fact that Carquel was attacked by Death Eaters one week ago. I would have tried to confirm more, but I decided that I didn't really want to die just yet."
"It's not all that bad, really," Katrina said brightly.
Sirius looked wryly at her. "But I'm not yet thirty-six, Katrina."
I winced. I was just wondering when Arisuis Black was going to get dragged into this when luckily Patty swiftly changed the subject and within a few minutes Sirius was ready to Apparate me over to where he and Lupin were living at the moment. ("Absolutely not," Patty and Moody decreed, "she's using Floo Powder and that's final!") While, yes, I did end up doing so, the point is that we arrived at a small cabin much more quickly than we would have any Muggle way. It wasn't as in good structural condition as Patty's, but due to the fact that Patty needs assistance to walk, it was a lot nicer inwardly. Stark and threadbare, it was yet a place that an effort to be made comfortable had been tried. Sirius grinned at me. "I suppose after however long at Patty's, you won't need any hot chocolate." I laughed and replied no, but I still felt shaky from the recent events of the day.
Sirius glanced sideways at me and asked casually how I'd been doing in school lately. I tensed; I could tell where this was going already. He was going to ask about my recent behaviour to Harry. "Fine," I shrugged with feigned indifference, "really, really busy."
Sirius stared intently at me for a moment before saying, not unkindly, that I was a lousy liar when Playing Auror wasn't part of the bargain.
"I'm fine…" I felt like Dad was cross-examining me again. How exactly was I supposed to tell Sirius that I was trying to protect his godson and friends? How must Sirius have felt to know Harry was all alone at Hogwarts now, and not even being able to be there for him due to cruel circumstance? I blinked furiously, drowning in confusion.
He held up his hands. "Yes, yes, you are completely well and fine and splendid; don't get snappy with me, Miss Granger. However," he added gently, "if you ever need to talk to anyone…"
I don't know where this came from, but suddenly I burst into tears. Perhaps "burst" is too explosive; but they just sort of whelmed up and I put my head down on the dining room table. I didn't even understand why. And then Sirius came over, looking highly hesitative, and said something indistinct, hand hovering over my shoulder uncertainly, and I turned around and just buried myself in his chest. I desperately needed someone for support at that moment. Hesitantly he patted my hair, looking completely bemused. "I'm… I'm sorry," I managed at last. "I'm just… scared… the… Carquel's…" Well, I certainly didn't seem like the genius he had made me out to be. Right now I was a complete crybaby for no reason, and my face still burns remembering it.
"'S'okay," he said quietly as I dried my eyes, still looking lost and glancing at me like I might explode.
It was shortly after that Lupin Apparated, white-faced, and thankfully saw Sirius (and pretty much into one piece, into the bargain). Mum always says that it's a knee-jerk reaction when your fears are relived after being worried: You'll immediately get snappish. That's what happened here: Lupin said faintly "You're here", and within an instant was thoroughly telling Sirius off.
Sirius smiled offhandedly through the duration of the short lecture, obviously not paying it an iota of mind, and after a moment when Lupin had sufficiently calmed down, asked brightly: "Want to know what happened?" He related it carefully, up to the point where I had left. I then asked about the sudden burst of odd noises right before Carquel had nearly captured me. I was asked to try and relate as closely as possible where I had run, after which Lupin tried to reenact it in his mind through a process of shutting his eyes to pretend he was walking ("Running madly," I murmured) down the same corridors, scribbling quickly on a scrap piece of parchment, and repeating until he showed me a new sketchy map and asked if that looked half-right. I examined it, feeling worried before both assured me that they truthfully weren't expecting me to have memorized my route, and said it looked about right. Lupin then grinned: "Oh, you were awfully near the Animal Wing, then."
"Right near the supposed griffin," Sirius added. "Wish I could have confirmed that much. I do think he's lying, though."
I wish we could have, too. But for right now, since I am home safe and sound, I've got to put this down a while and join Mum and Dad and Amanda and Thomas. We're doing the countdown for 1996. I just pray it isn't half so confusing as the last few years! Happy New Year.
1 January, 1996
I'd really rather not go back to school tomorrow and take up my post of Public Enemy Number One, which is an expression Amanda uses a lot. On the other hand, as I'm sure our dear Society for Purity would point out, I have a choice. But between losing all self-respect and putting up with all their shenanigans… I'll take the latter. I refuse to live with the knowledge that some smirking, self-satisfied, rich prig has driven me out of the one world that has accepted my oddities and me. I don't suppose Wydown School is accepting me again anytime soon, thanks to the fire incident. Personally, I think the only reason Mum let me attend Hogwarts is because she secretly thought they would cure me of my "abnormality", not encourage it. But that's another musing.
Thomas is definitely disgruntled about me going back to school - "We could have got quite far on the guitar!" - but Mum is secretly worried about the Roberts, because Thomas lost his mother recently. She says they'll be better off when they leave and have time to grieve properly, and that the guitar lessons were merely a chance for Thomas to devote his mind to something other than his loss.
2 January
How annoying! My dire prediction came true, so I suppose Trelawney's happy, but it's disgusting to my eyes. Apparently Harry and Sara survived the holiday and are now on friendly terms. Sara chatted with Ron today when he came back and finished last-minute homework with the boys for a time. While she hasn't been with them constantly, it makes my blood boil. Here I am trying to protect my best friends, and they turn around and replace me with someone they know I don't like. I seriously wish I could throw something, but luckily Crookshanks has convinced me to do something more constructive, like reviewing my Potions notes. What would I do if it wasn't for Crookshanks? Through it all, he's always there for me. Right now he's curled up on my feet, preventing me from doing any stupid thing to vent steam that comes into my not-so-rational-at-the-moment mind. My darling Crookshanks.
And then there's the broomstick. Sara greeted all of us in the Gryffindor fifth year with Christmas presents. Well, granted, they were wonderfully charmed ornamental roses that'll never wilt or die, which are lovely for the more romantic Friday Night Flings. (I'll never wear mine.) Of course, I couldn't help feeling a little guilty, because after all that no one gave Sara a present, and she goes around playing saint and not even mentioning it while Lavender and Parvati and I are trying desperately to say something that's not grossly awkward, and Malfoy came over to taunt her about it - and then the owl drops from the sky and delivers a Nimbus Two Thousand! It was really weird, really, and I felt a strange sense of haven't-I-seen-this-before as she examined the white box and couldn't find a name or card. It was secondhand, with a large scratch on the handle, but in excellent flying condition.
She had to hand it over to the teachers to make sure it wasn't cursed or whatnot, and then, funnily enough, Dumbledore caught her on the way out of the Hall, saying that he had been assured it wasn't cursed by the sender. "Who?" Sara asked eagerly, in unison with a good portion of Gryffindor, but Dumbledore merely smiled and shook his head, saying she'd find out son. Well! Just who could that have been? I suppose the Gryffindor Team pitched in so that Snape couldn't kick her off the team like he threatened before holiday, but still, it was odd. Perhaps they didn't want her to think she was accepting charity…
I couldn't find out what Ron and the Weasleys did over the holiday, which is quite as annoying as the Sara deal. What were they doing? I wish I could just ask him outright! But Ron is going around putting his snubbed-sort of nose (I never noticed it was that snubbed before) in the air whenever I approach, and Parvati and Lavender don't know either. So hopefully if this blows over I'll find it. "If" - I hate that word. I definitely prefer "when". I'm also most certainly watching my back, it would only be too predictable for comfort if the Society for Purity is enraged that I came back to contaminate their precious school.
4 January
Well, they most certainly did something. They ripped all of my holiday assignments - and they were in my dormitory! How are they getting into Gryffindor Tower? I'm going to look into that as soon as I finish writing; surely there's a case of House rivalry in Hogwarts: A History. It's all ripped to pieces, and yesterday I didn't discover it until Transfiguration started. I'm apparently the only Muggle-born this happened to. (Why are they only targeting me on this? I expect it has something to do with my marks… and there's a certain satisfaction in knowing they're jealous.) Since it was all ripped and my reputation is clean, the teachers bought the excuse that it was a practical joke on someone's part. I had to re-do it all, but at least I wasn't in trouble. I felt like crying, however. I didn't, remembering that Sirius had been a little… scared by it. I'm serious (no pun intended) about that, I overheard him and Remus talking a little after we confirmed that I had been near the Animal Wing. They suggested I call my parents and say I would be home after dinner, and I did so (yes, they have a telephone, Lupin has apparently been pretending he's a Muggle in that village as of late). When I returned, I heard the following conversation:
"No, Moony, I mean it. I tried to ask about it tactfully, but all the sudden she just started crying on me. All I said was that if she needed to talk, I was there."
"Hmm." Remus sounded grim. "Obviously she does need to talk about something, then." (Hmm… that obvious, eh?)
"I just wished I could have comforted her," Sirius continued, sounding annoyed with himself. "I simply had no clue what to do. And then, I always had the impression that Hermione was far too sensible… I dunno." (Splendid… now I felt guilty for putting him in that position.)
"You did fine, Padfoot, and there's little you could have done beside not make her feel ashamed of it. Hermione's fifteen, and going through a range of emotions. Furthermore, she's in the midst of a dangerous war effort. I'd be surprised if she was functioning with complete normality." (I'm grateful to hear that.)
"All fifteen-year-olds?" Sirius asked with slight amusement. "I thought that was limited to Julia McGuffin." He spoke the name with slight scorn.
"Sirius." Remus sounded stern. "Julia had been a captive of a Darmintric Order. She had been tortured. That's a traumatic experience."
"And I'm sure it wasn't traumatic for you at all. It was a nice happy holiday, right?"
"That's different."
"Why's it different for you? You were three years younger, and you returned to school without everyone thinking you had some mental illness." (When exactly did this happen?)
"I was also playing the part of a stupidly stubborn Gryffindor. Julia was cleverer in that way. She pretended to have broken down, and the Darmintrics let their guard down with her, thinking she was too weak. It was a good strategy. By the time they thought I was too weak I really was, so it didn't do any good then."
"It's so nice of you to pretend that's what she did, but we both know she just blanked out."
"Still, it's probably a good idea if ever needed."
"Perhaps a warning for Hermione the next time she's cornered by Carquel?"
"She's outside the door right now, having heard everything we've said since you brought up her bout of emotion anyway, so perhaps she'll keep it in mind."
"Oh." I sheepishly entered, but neither seemed annoyed. "Sorry Sirius, Professor Lupin."
"I haven't been your teacher for a while now, Hermione, and I doubt I will be again. I wish you'd call me Remus," Remus said, "and that's more our fault than yours. Sit down."
I wondered if they were going to change tacks and start cross-examining me on my appalling behaviour to their friend's son as of late. I was half-right, since Remus asked me the same question Sirius had, if there was anything wrong that I needed to talk about. I shook my head and said I didn't need to talk about it right then.
"Fine," Remus said nonchalantly, "any bruises collected at Carquel's? Sirius said you played quite the heroine, but those trick floors can be annoying." Luckily, I hadn't run into any of those. "Good. Now we're going to have a snowball fight."
I stared at Remus, who was completely straight-faced, and Sirius, who was grinning with appreciation at the idea. "Excuse me?"
"A snowball fight. There's time before dinner and a lovely snowfall out there that we ought to be enjoying instead of wring our brains over Carquel."
"I - I haven't got a change of clothes."
"Well, what's the point of being with two wizards over holiday if not for Drying Spells?" Sirius asked cheerfully. "Come on, you heard Professor Moony, and I personally like that idea."
Well, I have to admit I had fun. Generally I ganged up with one of them on the other (as I think they could have reduced me to snow powder had they felt so inclined, even if Sirius had to go as Padfoot). I was soon wet and cold but laughing and enjoying myself more than I had for two weeks. Even after Remus, with a wistful glance around, said that he was going to have to go inside (which I think was a simple precaution due to scientifically-like effects of werewolf transformations and symptoms so close to the full moon I was having far too much fun to muse over) we produced a sled. Sirius had fun with that, especially when I wasn't able to drag it up one of the steeper hills near the cabin. He would give me an amused, superior dog-glance and grab the rope in his mouth. I'd have to tear after him furiously up the hill, and so the trips up were almost as much fun as going down.
The oddest thing of all was that after that, while I felt a little tired, I felt better emotionally and physically than I had for a long time, and I didn't feel overly exhausted at all.
(And, of course, Dad teasingly asked about the lovely colour in my cheeks when I returned home. He's awfully interested in "Snape". Thomas was a little put out merely because Amanda was definitely looking at Sirius with appreciation.)
