Ron, who had been slouched in an easy chair gazing into the fire, sat up eagerly as he saw Hermione climb in through the portrait hole and dust the remaining snow off her shoulders. He slumped back down, however, as he saw her ruefully shake her head.
"No good," she said. "Sorry, Ron."
"Oh well, at least you tried," he replied, trying to sound grateful. Hermione pulled up an armchair of her own and offered him the bag of Pick-And-Mix she had stopped in Hogsmeade for on her way home.
"There's some new ones in there," she said. "Honeydukes were open late, showing a troupe of potential investors from Luxembourg their latest stock. Those bright blue ones are for Halloween – they turn you green, or you grow fangs. Try one."
As everybody else was still out at the Hop, Hermione and Ron had the Common Room to themselves. They were still there, thoughtfully eating sweets by the fire, when Harry staggered in through the portrait hole.
"Harry!" said Hermione with some difficulty. "You're in early."
"What's the matter?" asked Ron. "You look like you accidentally drank a bottle of Hagrid's home-made Firewhisky."
Harry was indeed so shell-shocked that he had failed to noticed Ron's long curly horns, or Hermione's impressive set of sabre-toothed mandibles. "Went to... Room of Requirement," he said faintly. "Professor Sinistra... McGonagall... scented candles... mood lighting... soft music... I don't want to talk about it."
"Ouch," said Hermione in sympathy. A small jet of flame emitted from her nostrils. "Have a sweet, they'll make you feel better. Or, different, at least."
"No thanks," said Harry. There was a haunted look in his eyes. "I feel nauseous. I'm going to drink that sleeping draught Madame Pomfrey whipped up for Neville and hope it knocks me out. Night." He made his way slowly up the stairs, leaning heavily on the rail.
Hermione turned back to Ron. "You think you've got problems," she said meaningfully.
"I see what you mean," said Ron. "Poor bloke." A neat black goatee was sprouting on his chin, and his ears were in the process of becoming longer and pointy. He offered her the bag again. "Bonbon?"
Hermione was a little nervous as she came downstairs to breakfast the next morning. Not all the effects from last night's sweets had worn off, and she wasn't sure of the reaction she'd get. However, on her arrival in the Great Hall (which had been restored to its former glory), she found that most students were too sleepy after their late night to even look twice at her. Professor Flitwick was the only one that noticed.
"Excellent sideburns, my dear," he complimented her, a little wistfully. "I grew a pair myself, back in the seventies, but they were nothing like as bushy as yours."
"Er, thank you, Professor," Hermione muttered, taking a seat next to Ginny, who passed her the toast.
"How was the dance?" she asked, buttering. Ginny rolled her eyes.
"You didn't miss anything," she replied. "Nothing good, anyway. Except for when Dumbledore did a big dance solo in the middle of the floor, splits and all. That was amusing enough. No, mainly it was, 'Naedine, you're so fabulous, isn't Naedine stunning, Naedine, will you marry me?'" She sighed in disgust. "When Michael Stipe asked for her autograph, that was enough as far as I was concerned. Me and Luna and Neville took some bottles of Butterbeer and went down by the lake and had a bubble-blowing contest. Some of the bubbles are still down there, I think. The giant squid seemed to like them. What'd you get up to? You left early."
"Nothing important," said Hermione, pulling her hair over her ears. "Pass the orange juice there, will you?"
As Hermione was on her second cup of coffee and reading the Daily Prophet, Harry and Ron entered the hall and took the seats nearest her. Harry looked pleasantly dreamy.
"I worked a Memory Charm on him," Ron leaned across the table and hissed at Hermione. "Not a very good one, I'm afraid, but hopefully it'll hold for a while. He was having nightmares and keeping everybody awake." He ladled himself out a bowl of porridge, and then got another for Harry, who didn't seem aware there was breakfast available, and was staring enthralled at a spoon.
Hermione laid down her paper and sighed. "I think you overdid it slightly," she said. "Oh well, at least he got himself dressed okay." She took the spoon out of his hands, and mimed eating the porridge, to the amusement of the Hufflepuffs at the next table. Harry stared blankly at her. "Mmm, porridge! Nice porridge, Harry... nah, Ron, this isn't going to work." She took a spoonful of the cereal and aimed it at Harry. "Here comes the Hogwarts Express... choo choo choo choo!"
It was while Harry was obediently allowing Ron and Hermione to take turns feeding him, that a noise could be heard from the Entrance Hall. The screams and thumping noises were definitely coming closer, and most of the people eating breakfast broke off their conversations and turned towards the door enquiringly.
"MORE!" shouted Harry, pointing at his mouth. Hermione, who had become distracted, hurriedly put another spoonful of porridge there, just as Argus Filch strode in the door with a screaming, kicking, and biting Naedine in his arms. His cat followed him.
"Sir!" he bellowed, grabbing the girl's arms as she attempted to poke his eyes out. "I found her in your office, going through your desk! Then she called me a filthy name and tried to put a hex on me!" He held up a beautiful 11-inch mahogany-and-Manticore-sinew wand that had been snapped in two. "I had to stop her, sir!"
"That'll do, Argus, thank you," said Dumbledore calmly, wiping his mouth with a napkin and standing. "Put her down, there, and we'll talk about this in my office-"
"But sir, look!" Filch, knowing he had the attention of the entire school, grabbed Naedine's arm with a flourish and rolled up her lacy black sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark.
A collective gasp was heard. Harry grabbed the (empty) pumpkin-juice jug next to Ron and put it over his head. Naedine struggled out of Filch's grasp and stood up, rearranging her robes and giving a look of proud disdain to the assembled school.
"Yes," she proclaimed, "it's true. I have become a Death Eater! Though you may have interfered with my plan this time, Squib," she said, giving Filch a look that caused him to flinch, and Mrs. Norris to hide behind his legs, "you may rest assured that once I've joined my master, you will never have any power over me again."
She crooked a finger, and her broken wand floated out of Filch's hand and into her own. Frowning as she examined the break, she scrunched up her beautifully modelled features and horked up a large mouthful of phlegm onto the wand, which healed itself.
Looking around at the enthralled and disgusted faces of the onlookers, she said in irritation, "Well, wandless magic may not be very pretty, but I'd like to see any of you do it!"
Smoothing her hair down, she tucked her wand into her pocket and turned to Dumbledore, who remained motionless at the staff table. Calmly she said, "So now I take my leave of you, old Muggle-loving fool, and go to join the Dark Lord."
"That doesn't make a lick of sense," Hermione groaned, quietly, to Ron.
"But first," Naedine added, glowering with fury, "I'm going to get even with that grammarconsciouspossum bitch for what she said about me."
"Go ahead," said Dumbledore, smiling. "I think you'll find leaving Hogwarts isn't as easy as you anticipate."
Naedine laughed, an evil laugh that Hermione realised she'd overheard her practising in one of the girl's toilets. "Oh no? Well, your pathetic enchantments may serve to restrain this bunch of remedial candidates, but I have my Apparition License! So there!" In a flash, she was gone.
Hermione lost it completely. "HOW MANY TIMES?!" she howled, hurling a plate at the spot Naedine had just left. "HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY IT? YOU - CAN'T – DO – THAT – IN HOGWARTS!" She fell to the floor, gasping and hiccupping, and had to be revived by Ron and Harry (who had regained his wits just in time). The onlookers, delighted at this new turn of events, crowded round.
"Calm yourself, my dear Miss Granger," said Dumbledore kindly, seating himself again and polishing his spectacles. "You are indeed correct about the rules regarding Apparating. Anybody who attempts to do so within the grounds of Hogwarts finds themselves locked in a broom cupboard in the West Tower. In fact, Argus, Hagrid, Professor Flitwick, if you'd be so good as to pop over there now... oh, and take some of the stronger house-elves with you, if you don't mind. And some chains."
Hermione fainted.