Part 3: Sticks and Stones
Their first class for the day, Potions, was cancelled due to lack of interest from both the Slytherin students and their head of house. This, of course, was hilarious to Harry and Ron. Neither could be cajolled into revealing their secrets, despite all of Hermione's best efforts.
"Just wait," Ron said finally. "You will see soon enough."
The bulk of the morning past quickly, Professor McGonagall pushing them into line before too long. By the time lunch arrived, Hermione had no hopes of seeing any Slytherins as they had yet to appear all day.
Clearly, though, she was wrong.
The Slytherin table was full, full of sour faces and grim stances. Hermione's eyes wandered down to their hands and, to her surprise, most of them were bandaged to the point of just being stubs. None of them looked happy.
A lot of focus was given to the centre of the table, where Malfoy sat. His hands, too were covered neatly in white linen. He was looking at his plate disdainfully. At first Hermione did not understand but then she realised it was because the boy could not eat his food. Malfoy was unable to hold any cutlery.
Hermione looked at the bandages with horror as her friends began to laugh, for she could see another colour there. It was deeper and stood out firmly once you could see it. Red. Blood. It was blood.
Hermione stopped dead, three feet from her seat and looked numbly around. She could not believe this. What they did. They did this? Such a major act of... terrorism? She turned on her heels and walked briskly out of the hall, hoping to catch Harry and Ron before they entered.
She was in luck. There they were, walking slowly, keeping away from the main crowd and talking softly as they did. Hermione stalked right up to their faces, with out saying a word.
At first the boys were confused but from the look on her face, they could tell they were in trouble.
"What did you do?" Hermione asked accusingly.
The boys smiled suddenly and looked at each other approvingly.
"So they're in there then?" Ron asked, looking over her shoulder at door.
Hermione did not answer. Harry smiled.
"So it worked then?" Harry asked but before she could answer, he was walking away from her to the Great Hall.
Hermione ran up and stooped him, a foot from the door and spoke in hushed tones.
"Tell me."
Harry grinned and looked at Ron, who shrugged and tried to look inside.
"I thought you would have figured it out by now. Not as smart as everyone thinks?"
Harry paused and let his words sink in. Ron stopped smiling and looked at his friend in shock.
"I... Well, we. I can't really take all the credit. We charmed the Slytherin's front door. If they tried to get out, it would cut them. If the same person tried once too often, off comes a finger or two."
"Fingers? You never said..." Ron stammered as he looked at his friend in a new light.
"Morality takes the fun out of most things Ronniekins. That would be why I didn't till little miss suger and spice here. Too moral. Would have run and told a teacher."
Hermione looked at Ron.
"Ron, you are a prefect!'
"I didn't know..."
"He knew enough," Harry interrupted.
Hermione looked at Harry and felt a tear fall down her cold face. Anger and resent bottled up inside her. She could barely talk, yet she managed to utter a single word.
"Why?"
Harry stopped smiling at stared straight at his best friend. The world slid away, Ron disappeared as Harry looked at her with anger and hate. Too much.
"Why? WHY? Because they killed him! Hermione, you were there, you saw. They killed him, their families killed him. There is nothing left in me now, everything is gone. All I see is red eyes, snake eyes,in my dreams, in my waking hours as well. Why, Hermione? Because they deserved it. I would kill them if I could. Every last one of them."
His voice choked at the last. But only from whispering. The words were not shouted. It was worse. They were hissed at her, in a language she could understand.
He spoke in hate and those words cut like splinters.
Their first class for the day, Potions, was cancelled due to lack of interest from both the Slytherin students and their head of house. This, of course, was hilarious to Harry and Ron. Neither could be cajolled into revealing their secrets, despite all of Hermione's best efforts.
"Just wait," Ron said finally. "You will see soon enough."
The bulk of the morning past quickly, Professor McGonagall pushing them into line before too long. By the time lunch arrived, Hermione had no hopes of seeing any Slytherins as they had yet to appear all day.
Clearly, though, she was wrong.
The Slytherin table was full, full of sour faces and grim stances. Hermione's eyes wandered down to their hands and, to her surprise, most of them were bandaged to the point of just being stubs. None of them looked happy.
A lot of focus was given to the centre of the table, where Malfoy sat. His hands, too were covered neatly in white linen. He was looking at his plate disdainfully. At first Hermione did not understand but then she realised it was because the boy could not eat his food. Malfoy was unable to hold any cutlery.
Hermione looked at the bandages with horror as her friends began to laugh, for she could see another colour there. It was deeper and stood out firmly once you could see it. Red. Blood. It was blood.
Hermione stopped dead, three feet from her seat and looked numbly around. She could not believe this. What they did. They did this? Such a major act of... terrorism? She turned on her heels and walked briskly out of the hall, hoping to catch Harry and Ron before they entered.
She was in luck. There they were, walking slowly, keeping away from the main crowd and talking softly as they did. Hermione stalked right up to their faces, with out saying a word.
At first the boys were confused but from the look on her face, they could tell they were in trouble.
"What did you do?" Hermione asked accusingly.
The boys smiled suddenly and looked at each other approvingly.
"So they're in there then?" Ron asked, looking over her shoulder at door.
Hermione did not answer. Harry smiled.
"So it worked then?" Harry asked but before she could answer, he was walking away from her to the Great Hall.
Hermione ran up and stooped him, a foot from the door and spoke in hushed tones.
"Tell me."
Harry grinned and looked at Ron, who shrugged and tried to look inside.
"I thought you would have figured it out by now. Not as smart as everyone thinks?"
Harry paused and let his words sink in. Ron stopped smiling and looked at his friend in shock.
"I... Well, we. I can't really take all the credit. We charmed the Slytherin's front door. If they tried to get out, it would cut them. If the same person tried once too often, off comes a finger or two."
"Fingers? You never said..." Ron stammered as he looked at his friend in a new light.
"Morality takes the fun out of most things Ronniekins. That would be why I didn't till little miss suger and spice here. Too moral. Would have run and told a teacher."
Hermione looked at Ron.
"Ron, you are a prefect!'
"I didn't know..."
"He knew enough," Harry interrupted.
Hermione looked at Harry and felt a tear fall down her cold face. Anger and resent bottled up inside her. She could barely talk, yet she managed to utter a single word.
"Why?"
Harry stopped smiling at stared straight at his best friend. The world slid away, Ron disappeared as Harry looked at her with anger and hate. Too much.
"Why? WHY? Because they killed him! Hermione, you were there, you saw. They killed him, their families killed him. There is nothing left in me now, everything is gone. All I see is red eyes, snake eyes,in my dreams, in my waking hours as well. Why, Hermione? Because they deserved it. I would kill them if I could. Every last one of them."
His voice choked at the last. But only from whispering. The words were not shouted. It was worse. They were hissed at her, in a language she could understand.
He spoke in hate and those words cut like splinters.