Chapter V: Shady Meetings
"Hermione, do you think this has something to do with the Death Eaters? They hate Muggle-borns and with all the news about them—"
"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. There is no way any of them could have access to the mail delivery. However, what if there are more Death Eaters? Or perhaps a friend of theirs?"
"Maybe. What about that Marcus Malfoy? Isn't it strange he just comes here right when his family is being persecuted for being Voldemort supporters?"
"Yes… Listen, Harry, I'll look into this Marcus fellow. I want you to start reading all the news articles and listen to as many conversations around the school. If McGonagall won't investigate then we have to."
"Right. Where are you going?"
Hermione spun around, letting her frizzed hair gently curl beneath her shoulder. She pointed to a library book in her hand and twitched her eye to the right of Harry. Quickly, she ran off in the opposite direction, leaving Harry standing outside McGonagall's office.
"Potter, may I speak to you?" the Professor's voice cracked wryly.
The gray-haired witch poked Harry's right shoulder and tugged him slightly backward. Before he responded, she trotted back into her office and waited for Harry to follow her lead. As he entered once again, fire snapped around him from flickering candles that melted down their rims. Each one puffed a different color and chocked the air with toxic smoke.
"Ignore them; they are just hungry," McGonagall advised, sitting in her chair once again. "Harry, dear, I must be honest with you."
"Why not with Hermione?"
She sighed and released her left palm grasping her upper lip. "I'm afraid it regards her and others like her."
"You mean other Muggle born wizards and witches?"
She nodded. "I already sent notice to the owl mail services before speaking with you. That loathsome letter was sent from," she paused and stared at a miniature version of the castle on her desk, "Hogwarts."
"How can that be?" Harry asked.
"Either someone is playing a rather disgusting practical joke or something… Never mind. Harry, I want you to promise me you won't go investigating this event. If the person responsible for these threats is in Hogwarts, we don't want them doing anything foolish because of your prying. Do you understand?"
Harry nodded, but knew Hermione was already doing the research. He didn't want to make a promise that he couldn't keep but that was exactly was he was doing.
"Yes. Um, Professor… You never mentioned your brother… I'm sorry, but it's in all the news and—"
"It's quite all right. I have had many questions asked of me lately. Go ahead."
Harry hesitated, and then asked, "If Theodore, that is his name I believe, goes to Azkaban, will you still be teaching here? Is he really a supporter of Vol—"
"Heavens no, don't even suggest it. My brother is a kind old fool mixed in with the wrong crowd. He would never support Him, but that won't stop the law from doing its injustice. He is in Azkaban Prison now and won't be coming back for a long time."
"I'm sorry."
"For what? You didn't send him there, dear. Now, if there isn't anything else, you may go."
Harry turned away and headed out the door whispering, "I did send him there. I sent all of them there…"
As hours passed by, Hermione struggled through thick textbooks encased in horrid dust and mildew. Anything or anyone that hated Muggles was on her list of suspects. She started writing down names and groups with invisible ink. On the top of the list was Malfoy, knowing fully well they supported Him.
Slowly she scribed the name Black. Not Sirius of course, but his relatives were known to hate anyone with impure blood. As she continued listing the surnames, a nasal voice interrupted her concentration.
"Very interesting," the boy said, making Hermione jump slightly out of her seat.
"What do you want?"
The red-glassed boy peered over at the blank piece of parchment. "What are you hiding?"
"Nothing," Hermione snapped back. "Shouldn't you be somewhere else?"
He shook his head no and grabbed the paper away from Hermione. After a few seconds, he tossed it back onto her table. "You better not be doing anything bad."
"Ha! Are you threatening me, Chad, is it?"
"Oh no, never would I threaten a Prefect. Merely, well, I am concerned."
Hermione's eyebrows lowered from their angry position. She motioned forward and peered into Chad's eyes. Something was different about his face than earlier before. It was much more pale, although quite white already.
"I don't like my House very much. They played a rather mean prank on me." He paused and scratched his arm. Gradually, he rolled up his torn right sleeve and revealed a horrible maroon rash, puffed out and bumpy. It spread from his wrist up to his elbow and seems to stop the blood flow underneath it because the surrounding skin was bright red.
"They did that to you? How? When?" Hermione questioned staring intensively.
Chad turned his head and checked the area before responding. "About an hour ago. I was in my new room, unpacking my things, when I saw a silver light outside my window. Curious, I went over to it and found a note."
"A note?"
"Yes, just a piece of paper. I picked it up, and it floated in the air. Then, I heard a voice mumble something, but I couldn't understand what it said. Suddenly, black liquid dropped onto my arm and ate away the cloth that was there. I screamed and when the other Ravenclaws came to my room, they laughed at me."
"Are you sure they did this to you?"
"Who else could have done it?"
Hermione's heart pumped faster. Perhaps this was just a prank, but it sounded so much like what had happened to her… A note, a voice and an unknown substance… Abruptly, Hermione closed the book she was looking at and raced toward the exit of the library.
"Wait! You aren't gonna tell on them, are you?" Chad asked in the background.
But, Hermione didn't respond to him. Instead, she rushed out of the library very quickly and ran down the corridors with her face red, hair a mess and several thoughts flowing through her mind.
"This sounds serious," Ron said as he petted Pig's ruffled neck.
"Very. I know Hermione is researching now. If Professor McGonagall catches her, she may get in deep trouble."
"She'll have a whole lot more to worry about if these threats continue."
"You're right," Harry responded and sighed. "That reminds me. Have you seen Hermione?"
"Probably in the library… Or not…"
Ron's head tilted toward a young lady rushing into the Gryffindor common room. She rubbed her hands through her already puffy hair and glared her confused eyes over at Harry.
"There's been another threat," she muttered.
"To you?" Ron exclaimed.
She shook her head. "No, to Chad from the Ravenclaw House."
"I didn't know he was part Muggle."
"Neither did I," Hermione went on, "until he came up to me in the library and described to me what happened to him just a few hours ago. Look, it won't be long until another threat appears at this pace."
"Hermione, McGonagall talked to me after you left. She doesn't want us prying ourselves into this mess."
"A little too late for that! She's hiding something and just doesn't want us finding out what it is."
"You've never accused a professor liked McGonagall of hiding something… This isn't like you," Harry said.
"It's not like me to be called Mudblood and then covered in," Hermione's voice tightened, making it hard for her to continue.
"What are we supposed to do?" Ron interrupted.
They turned to each other, thinking about whom they could trust. Dumbledore obviously was the first choice, but he would tell McGonagall. They couldn't tell other Gryffindors since they were the upper class wizards now and didn't want to make them fear. Hermione suddenly looked up as if she had an idea.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"This may sound strange, but I think we should ask Professor Snape for help. He knows a great deal about potions and should have analyzed the brown substance from before by now."
"But you guys told me that McGonagall didn't want others to know. Why does Snape know?" Ron asked.
"Good point, Ron. Maybe she thought about telling others before, but changed her mind. In any case, Snape could see Chad's arm and make a logical reasoning to what is happening. He's quite smart."
"Smart?" Harry laughed. "Oh please, Hermione. You could figure out a hell of a lot more stuff than he could ever."
"In time, I might, but we don't have that luxury right now. I'm going to Professor Snape's office. Are you two coming with me?"
Ron nodded his head, but Harry shook his. Hermione rolled her eyes and murmured a 'fine' under her breathe. She grabbed Ron by the collar and hurried off to Professor Snape's office. Harry was left alone in the common room, reflecting what was happening.
"Shush."
Harry heard a man's voice from the distance. He looked quickly outside the door but saw no one in sight. As he moved back into the room, he heard it again, yet much more scarce. Gradually, he limped toward the window and spotted three men in black robes underneath a canopy. The opening faced Harry's window, and in a panic, he ducked so he would not be seen.
Rising a few inches, Harry peered through a little crack just above the windowsill. He tried to make out the men he saw but most of their faces were covered up. As he studied the man talking, he noticed pointy cowboy boots poking out from underneath the floor length robe.
"Marcus," Harry whispered to himself as he continued searching for the identities of the others.
The man on Marcus's right was a little bit taller with long blonde hair falling from his robe. A glimmer of the man's blue eyes made it clear that it was Lucius Malfoy. Had he passed his trial already? Harry asked himself. Perhaps… And the third person was much shorter than rest. He or she's back was turned to Harry now, so he could get any good details.
"What are you looking at?"
"What?" Harry turned about quickly to see Kimberly Hooch.
"I said what are you looking at?"
"Oh," Harry paused and looked back to the window. The three robed wizards were gone. "Nothing. I was just thinking."
"I don't believe you," she said quickly as she hurried off to the girls' dorm rooms. Right after she disappeared from sight, Harry returned his attention to the window, frantically searching for the robed strangers. But there was no one at all.