Besides the constant fights between Hermione and Malfoy, the first week of school went well. All of the professors were the same as the years before, except for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He was a stout man, with brown hair and graying patches above his ears. His nose was small, forming a slightly flat tip at the end. His name was Tom Truman, and as far as anyone could tell, he was kind and considerate. Although he was nothing like Remus Lupin, he did a fair job; not giving out to much work and letting the students try spells instead of writing them down.
To Harry's surprise, there weren't many whispers of Voldemort. He came to the conclusion that people just wanted to leave that to the outside world and keep it out of Hogwarts. To them, Hogwarts was a world of it's own.
It was the Saturday after the first week, and the trio was sitting at the Gryffindor table for an early breakfast. Hermione was still fuming about the fight she had with Malfoy about who was to use their adjoining bathroom first. Evidently, Hermione was there first, but Malfoy but a binding spell on her while she was brushing her teeth and pushed her back into her room. Every few minutes during breakfast, she would bite her bottom lip and make a growling noise that sounded much like her cat, Crookshanks.
"Alright there, Granger?" a smooth voice came from behind Hermione and Harry. Ron, who was sitting across from them, tensed in his seat.
"Thanks Zabini, but I'm fine," Hermione answered without even turning to see who it was.
"If you're sure," he replied, gliding back over to the Slytherin table. Once he was seated next to Malfoy, Ron burst with rage.
"Since when does Blasie Zabini ask if you're alright? He is a Slytherin, Hermione! Probably a Death Eater on top of that! Or his dad is one at least!"
"He doesn't have a father, Ron. Well, he does, but not a biological father," Hermione said calmly. It was a surprise to Harry that she hadn't smacked Ron the second he opened his mouth. She was already in a bad mood, and Ron was stacking bricks onto a leaning tower.
"And why do you know this? Oh Gods Hermione! Don't tell me you actually talked to the guy!"
"No, I didn't. There are other ways of getting information. Some of the perks of being Head Girl," Hermione smiled a mysterious smile that envied the smile she gave them in their fourth year, after she had her teeth shrunken by Madame Pomfrey. "You see, there is a filing system for the school. Well, it's sort of a filing system. Anyway, you just say the password, tap the box with your wand, say the name you want, then a file comes up. Everything you ever wanted to know is in that folder. I suppose it goes to ministry after that person graduates, but while you're here, it is to."
"That still doesn't explain why you were looking at Zabini's file," Ron sulked. Harry nodded in agreement.
"I'll tell you when I have everything I need. It shouldn't take much longer," her eyes moved between the two, her voice hushed.
"But Hermione, you can tell us," Harry persisted. He felt left out not knowing what Hermione was up to, but then again, so did Ron.
"I promise I'll tell you Harry. You too Ron. I just need to make sure I know my hypothesis is true," she reached under the table and touched Harry's hand lightly. An odd feeling jumped through Harry when she did this. The feeling was not foreign, but unexpected.
"As long as you fill us in the second you can," Ron said sternly. Hermione nodded to him then stood from her place, pulling her hand away from Harry's.
"I've got to get to the library. Only a matter of months before the N.E.W.T.s are here," she smiled then headed for the Great Hall doors. The moment she was gone, Ron leaned over the table and began talking in a whisper.
"I'm don't know about this, Harry. Hermione's never kept anything from us before," he stated nervously.
"Yes she has, Ron. Her time turner in 3rd year. But I'm sure whatever it is, she knows what she's doing," for some reason, Harry trusted Hermione more than he had before. The feeling came back again, but he pushed it down, knowing full well what it was.
"Alright, Harry. But if she doesn't tell us soon, I'll find out for myself," and that was all that was said on the matter. Ron stuffed a forkful of eggs into his mouth and Harry continued on the waffle he had been eating before Blasie had walked over. To his surprise, it was still hot.
~*~
"Harry! Ron!" Hermione burst through the Gryffindor common room later that evening. A few studying students cast her hateful glances, but she took no notice.
"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry asked, coming down the boys' staircase.
"Just fine. Where's Ron?"
"Right here. Everything alright?" Ron appeared at the bottom of the boys' stairs beside Harry.
"Fine. I need to show you something," she said quickly, turning to go back out the portrait. The boys looked at each other, but thought better against disobeying their bushy haired friend.
When they stepped out of the portrait hole, Hermione was already a good twenty steps ahead. Their long legs took one step for her two, so they caught her quickly.
"I never thought I would be right on this," she mumbled, "I actually hoped I was wrong," she continued. Harry and Ron shared another look and kept quiet. A few turns later, Harry knew where they were going. Hermione's sanctuary: the library.
They reached the large oak doors and Hermione turned and pushed the door open with her backside. The boys followed her in and over to a table out of earshot in the Charms section.
"This is big," she kept mumbling. Ron reached out and grabbed one of Hermione's hands that was rummaging through her bag. She stopped and smiled at him. This small action made Harry's stomach turn in jealousy.
"Mione," Harry broke the silence, "What's going on?" She took a breath, signaling a long story was coming on.
"Ok, Harry, do you remember on the train, when I asked to see your picture of Sirius?" he nodded. "Well, a few minutes before that, Blasie Zabini was leaning against the door frame. There was something about him that looked familiar, but I couldn't place it. But I found it in your photo. Mind you, I needed proof. So I went looking in Blasie's file. It said he had no registered biological father, but he did have a step father. His mother was never married before his current father, but by the dates in the file, his mother was three weeks pregnant when she married his dad." She stopped, waiting for a signal that they understood.
"What does this have to do with anything?" Ron asked.
"Everything. His mother attended Hogwarts, she was in Slytherin. She came from a pureblood family, as did his biological father. Here, look," she pulled a picture of Blasie from her bag and set it on the table. It had to have been taken that year, he looked the same. He was talking with Draco Malfoy about something. His hair fell into his face and he brushed it away with a graceful wave of his hand.
"I don't see what you're getting at, Hermione," Harry stated, pushing the picture over so Ron could look at it.
"Really look at him, Harry. Don't you see it? He's the spitting image of Sirius."
To Harry's surprise, there weren't many whispers of Voldemort. He came to the conclusion that people just wanted to leave that to the outside world and keep it out of Hogwarts. To them, Hogwarts was a world of it's own.
It was the Saturday after the first week, and the trio was sitting at the Gryffindor table for an early breakfast. Hermione was still fuming about the fight she had with Malfoy about who was to use their adjoining bathroom first. Evidently, Hermione was there first, but Malfoy but a binding spell on her while she was brushing her teeth and pushed her back into her room. Every few minutes during breakfast, she would bite her bottom lip and make a growling noise that sounded much like her cat, Crookshanks.
"Alright there, Granger?" a smooth voice came from behind Hermione and Harry. Ron, who was sitting across from them, tensed in his seat.
"Thanks Zabini, but I'm fine," Hermione answered without even turning to see who it was.
"If you're sure," he replied, gliding back over to the Slytherin table. Once he was seated next to Malfoy, Ron burst with rage.
"Since when does Blasie Zabini ask if you're alright? He is a Slytherin, Hermione! Probably a Death Eater on top of that! Or his dad is one at least!"
"He doesn't have a father, Ron. Well, he does, but not a biological father," Hermione said calmly. It was a surprise to Harry that she hadn't smacked Ron the second he opened his mouth. She was already in a bad mood, and Ron was stacking bricks onto a leaning tower.
"And why do you know this? Oh Gods Hermione! Don't tell me you actually talked to the guy!"
"No, I didn't. There are other ways of getting information. Some of the perks of being Head Girl," Hermione smiled a mysterious smile that envied the smile she gave them in their fourth year, after she had her teeth shrunken by Madame Pomfrey. "You see, there is a filing system for the school. Well, it's sort of a filing system. Anyway, you just say the password, tap the box with your wand, say the name you want, then a file comes up. Everything you ever wanted to know is in that folder. I suppose it goes to ministry after that person graduates, but while you're here, it is to."
"That still doesn't explain why you were looking at Zabini's file," Ron sulked. Harry nodded in agreement.
"I'll tell you when I have everything I need. It shouldn't take much longer," her eyes moved between the two, her voice hushed.
"But Hermione, you can tell us," Harry persisted. He felt left out not knowing what Hermione was up to, but then again, so did Ron.
"I promise I'll tell you Harry. You too Ron. I just need to make sure I know my hypothesis is true," she reached under the table and touched Harry's hand lightly. An odd feeling jumped through Harry when she did this. The feeling was not foreign, but unexpected.
"As long as you fill us in the second you can," Ron said sternly. Hermione nodded to him then stood from her place, pulling her hand away from Harry's.
"I've got to get to the library. Only a matter of months before the N.E.W.T.s are here," she smiled then headed for the Great Hall doors. The moment she was gone, Ron leaned over the table and began talking in a whisper.
"I'm don't know about this, Harry. Hermione's never kept anything from us before," he stated nervously.
"Yes she has, Ron. Her time turner in 3rd year. But I'm sure whatever it is, she knows what she's doing," for some reason, Harry trusted Hermione more than he had before. The feeling came back again, but he pushed it down, knowing full well what it was.
"Alright, Harry. But if she doesn't tell us soon, I'll find out for myself," and that was all that was said on the matter. Ron stuffed a forkful of eggs into his mouth and Harry continued on the waffle he had been eating before Blasie had walked over. To his surprise, it was still hot.
~*~
"Harry! Ron!" Hermione burst through the Gryffindor common room later that evening. A few studying students cast her hateful glances, but she took no notice.
"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry asked, coming down the boys' staircase.
"Just fine. Where's Ron?"
"Right here. Everything alright?" Ron appeared at the bottom of the boys' stairs beside Harry.
"Fine. I need to show you something," she said quickly, turning to go back out the portrait. The boys looked at each other, but thought better against disobeying their bushy haired friend.
When they stepped out of the portrait hole, Hermione was already a good twenty steps ahead. Their long legs took one step for her two, so they caught her quickly.
"I never thought I would be right on this," she mumbled, "I actually hoped I was wrong," she continued. Harry and Ron shared another look and kept quiet. A few turns later, Harry knew where they were going. Hermione's sanctuary: the library.
They reached the large oak doors and Hermione turned and pushed the door open with her backside. The boys followed her in and over to a table out of earshot in the Charms section.
"This is big," she kept mumbling. Ron reached out and grabbed one of Hermione's hands that was rummaging through her bag. She stopped and smiled at him. This small action made Harry's stomach turn in jealousy.
"Mione," Harry broke the silence, "What's going on?" She took a breath, signaling a long story was coming on.
"Ok, Harry, do you remember on the train, when I asked to see your picture of Sirius?" he nodded. "Well, a few minutes before that, Blasie Zabini was leaning against the door frame. There was something about him that looked familiar, but I couldn't place it. But I found it in your photo. Mind you, I needed proof. So I went looking in Blasie's file. It said he had no registered biological father, but he did have a step father. His mother was never married before his current father, but by the dates in the file, his mother was three weeks pregnant when she married his dad." She stopped, waiting for a signal that they understood.
"What does this have to do with anything?" Ron asked.
"Everything. His mother attended Hogwarts, she was in Slytherin. She came from a pureblood family, as did his biological father. Here, look," she pulled a picture of Blasie from her bag and set it on the table. It had to have been taken that year, he looked the same. He was talking with Draco Malfoy about something. His hair fell into his face and he brushed it away with a graceful wave of his hand.
"I don't see what you're getting at, Hermione," Harry stated, pushing the picture over so Ron could look at it.
"Really look at him, Harry. Don't you see it? He's the spitting image of Sirius."