"Please – stop it!"
It was definitely Hermione, and she sounded really upset.
"Come on, Granger...you know you want to. You can't resist me for long. Just tell me. "
"That's Malfoy!" Harry realized, and putting his back to the wall of the archway, he leaned around the corner to see what was going on.
"I – I don't w-want to tell you!" Hermione forced out contemptuously. It sounded like she was having trouble speaking, somehow. Harry felt really uncomfortable – was he hearing something he shouldn't be hearing? It sounded like Hermione might be in trouble, but then again, maybe he shouldn't interfere – she'd gotten really mad at Ron the last time he'd stepped between her and Draco. And she did say that he had a "saving people thing..."
A nauseating thought occurred to him – what on Earth was Hermione doing under the bleachers, with Draco Malfoy, alone? Had she lost her mind?
"Well, that's [I]true[/I] enough," came Draco's oily sneer, "But you won't be able to avoid me for long."
Harry stepped away from the wall, and sneaking closer to the bleachers, put his ear close to the fluttering tarp so he could hear better. The sides of the bleachers were covered with a red and gold fabric bearing the Gryffindor seal that had been stretched taut, and was supposed to be tied to bolts in the woodwork, but Harry could see that someone had unlaced the bottom corner, and ducked underneath. In the small gap, Harry could just dimly make out Hermione's bushy hair. She had one of her arms pressed up against the wooden framework at an odd angle...but where was Draco?
"Is it Weasley, then?" Malfoy hissed, "It's him, isn't it?"
"Nnnnn....nnnnNo."
"Then who is it? I know you know! [I]Tell me[/I], you filthy little Mudblood, is it you?"
"I already told you," Hermione sobbed, "It's not me!"
Suddenly, Harry realized with a sinking feeling what Draco was asking about, and he grabbed the edge of the fabric and heaved, snapping several more of the ties.
"Then who!" Draco yelled, and Harry saw Hermione's hair jerk roughly to one side as she was slapped by an invisible hand...he noticed the wooden framework in front of her seemed to bend and distort – he could just make out Draco's outline.
"Tell me! [I]Who is Harry Potter's Secret Keeper?![/I]"
But Harry had arrived, ducking under the red and gold fabric. He struggled to climb through the criss-crossed structural support of the bleachers, and get his wand out from beneath his Quidditch gear at the same time.
"[I]Draco![/I]" he shouted, "Leave her alone!"
"Harry!" cried Hermione, "Harry, he's Disillusioned!"
Harry finally had freed his wand, but the woodwork in front of him was distorting and bending as though seen through a bead of water—
-- Stars and colors flashed before his eyes, and before he knew what had happened, he was tumbling to the ground, his head bursting with pain.
"[I]RON![/I]" screamed Hermione, "HELP! [I]SOMEONE HELP![/I]"
Harry heard a loud smacking noise, and Hermione's shrieking was muffled, as though someone had a hand over her mouth. Suddenly there came a quiet "pop" and a sickening squelch, and Draco Malfoy let out a screech of agony.
Harry lifted his head, and through the haze, saw Draco's invisible arm spattered with the blood dripping from his bitten hand. Hermione was spitting and retching on the ground.
Harry lifted his wand, and aimed it at the place he knew Draco had to be.
"[I]STUPEFY![/I]"
He heard a loud thunk, and some dust fell from the bleachers above them – Draco must have fallen against a support. Harry heard the commotion of voices – the flap was pulled back, and he could hear the sound of shoes scraping against the dirt.
"[I]Hermione![/I]" shouted Ron, "[I]Harry![/I]"
"Ron!" bawled Hermione, and Harry saw two Rons kneel down and gather up two sobbing Hermiones. Several other people wearing shin-guards were walking towards him.
"Ah, good," Harry thought. And he allowed himself to black out.
"[I]ENNERVATE![/I]"
Harry found his head was still splitting, and he could feel the coarse dirt under his cheek. He could taste grit and blood in his mouth, and his tongue felt three sizes too large. He realized he must have bit his tongue when Draco hit him over the head.
He moaned groggily, and sat up. He opened his eyes to see Professor McGonagall's white face, peering into his, her lips a taut line. Sloper, Kirke, and one of the Hufflepuff Beaters were holding on to the now visible Malfoy, who sulked with a reddening bandage around his hand. Ron was sitting in the same place with Hermione as she sobbed and sobbed onto his shoulder. Harry felt his stomach wrench – Hermione never let anyone see her cry that way. Ginny was holding up the red and gold fabric, and Harry could see a hushed crowd of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Quidditch players congregated over in the alley between the bleachers and the locker room arch, peering in at them.
"What – happened," McGonagall snapped through gritted teeth, panic and fury fighting for dominance in her voice.
"Draco," Harry said, feeling like he was speaking in slow motion, "Heard him...and Hermione...asking..."
The world seemed to be spinning again. McGonagall put a hand on the back of his neck and held his head up for him.
"Alright, Potter, it's alright."
She wheeled around at the frightened Quidditch players gathered near the archway. "[I]MOVE![/I]"
They scrambled out of the way.
"Potter, can you walk?"
"Sure," Harry said, "Sure." He struggled to get up, and he felt as though his head would split in two.
McGonagall knelt down, and struggled to lift him. The Hufflepuff beater hurried over and grabbed his other side. Between the two of them, they managed to get Harry out from under the bleachers, followed by Ron with Hermione, and Sloper and Kirke with Malfoy.
Harry saw Dumbledore, Madame Pomfrey, Snape, and Lupin running across the Quidditch pitch, followed closely by Neville.
"Harry!" shouted Lupin, "Harry, are you alright? Where's Hermione? Where's Ron?"
"We're right here," Harry heard Ron say from behind him, "We're alright."
"Set him down. Set him down!" Madame Pomfrey ordered, and Harry felt his knees give under him as McGonagall and the Hufflepuff boy lowered him to the grassy turf.
"[I]Lumos![/I]"
Madame Pomfrey was shining the light from her wand in his eyes, and he closed them tight, his head pounding.
"Open," she barked. Finally, she put her wand down, and half-blinded, Harry blinked owlishly as she held up a finger and moved it back and forth in front of his face.
"Follow with your eyes – no, don't turn your head," she ordered brusquely.
"Harry," Lupin said, kneeling down next to him, worry etched deeply into the lines on his brow, "Harry, what—"
"When I'm through, Remus!" barked Madame Pomfrey. She gave a tricky little flick of her wand and aimed it at the growing lump on Harry's head.
"[I]Glacius![/I]"
Harry suddenly felt a soothing coolness pressing wetly on his head.
"Your mouth is bleeding," Madame Pomfrey said, "Say 'Ah.'"
"Mr. Weasley. Can [I]you[/I] tell us what happened?" McGonagall asked.
"Give them a moment, Minerva," Dumbledore said in his soothing bass. Harry couldn't see around Madame Pomfrey's head, but it sounded as though Ron and Hermione had seated themselves a few feet away from him. He could see Malfoy out of the corner of his eye, scowling at the turf while Sloper and Kirke stood over him.
"I can, sir" came Hermione's trembling voice, "I'm still under the influence of the Veritaserum."
"What?!" McGonagall sounded as though she was either going to faint or expell somebody.
"Please, Professor...before it wears off."
"Are you sure you feel able, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked gently. Harry tried to peek around Madame Pomfrey's head to check on Hermione, but she jerked his head back over by the chin.
"Swish with this, and spit a few times," she commanded. Harry took a mouthful of the potion and found it tasted like moldy oranges and stung his tongue. He spat it out, and Madame Pomfrey forced him to take another swig.
"Yes, sir," Hermione said, her voice regaining some of its old sound, "I'd gone to watch Harry and Ron practice – Ron and I had a row the other day, and I wanted to make him feel guilty so he'd apologize."
Harry felt a little embarrassed for Hermione – after all, the Veritaserum would force her to be totally honest.
"I got there late and they were already nearly done with practice. I sat on the lower level of the Gryffindor bleachers, watching. There were only two people on the Hufflepuff bleachers, across and down the field from me, and they were watching the game also. I heard someone behind me whisper the Silencing spell. I tried to ask who was there, but I found I couldn't speak. I was about to stand up, but..."
Her voice trailed off, and she took a shaky breath.
"Someone pulled me from behind, by my clothing. I felt the bleachers digging into my back. I tried to scream..."
Hermione's voice was trembling. Harry felt furious. Somebody had to stop this. It wasn't right.
"Headmaster," said Lupin, "We should really do this—"
"I can keep going," Hermione interrupted hurriedly, "I felt somebody grab me around the neck and shoulders...they pushed me down sideways, and pulled me through the gap in the bleachers. I fell on the ground, hard...I think I hurt my hip and my shoulder a bit. I couldn't see who it was, because they had a Disillusionment charm on them, but I could tell it was Malfoy from the smell of his hair potion – he always uses Sleakeazy's..."
"And is it not possible, Miss Granger," came Severus's oily voice, "That there was some other reason you were under the bleachers?"
"What are you suggesting, Severus?" said Lupin. Harry could hear the threat in his dangerously calm voice.
"I have no intention of calling into question Miss Granger's character," Snape said slickly, "I only mean to suggest that Miss Granger may have arranged to meet Malfoy...or she may have confronted him and gotten involved in some argument..."
"We found this on the ground," Ron said angrily. Madame Pomfrey leaned over to fish around in her bag, and Harry could see around her that Ron was holding up a small blue bottle to Snape, his ears burning red.
"I think she's telling the truth," he glared.
Madame Pomfrey blocked his view again, as she began painfully dabbing the lump on his head with cotton balls.
"That could be any kind of potion," Snape said, "We have to test it to be sure. Miss Granger – please tell us your name and your house."
"Hermione Granger, Gryffindor."
"Are your parents Wizards or Muggles?"
"Muggles," Hermione said.
"And tell me," Snape continued silkily, "Did you, or any of your friends steal Boomslang skin from my cupboard of private ingredients in your second year?"
"Severus, really!" Professor McGonagall reprimanded, "You don't need to answer that, Miss Granger."
"Headmaster, what happened three years ago is over and done with," Snape said, as though this were a waste of time, "But I must ask something that Miss Granger would otherwise lie about in order to determine whether she is still under the influence of the Veritaserum."
"You can test the bottle later, Severus," Dumbledore said, "For now, I think—"
"Yes," Hermione said, ashamed, "Yes. I - We did."
"Ah," Snape said, and Harry noted with disgust the slight smugness in Snape's voice, "Very well, Miss Granger, continue."
"He picked me up and pushed me against the bleachers," Hermione said, "I went for my wand, but he grabbed my wrists and held them over my head. I think I sprained them trying to get away."
Harry felt his hands shaking, and he realized he'd clenched them into fists.
"He told me he had some questions he wanted to ask me, and that if I called for help, he'd hex me. He took the Silencing Charm off, and I told him it would be a cold day in hell before I told him anything. He told me he'd been expecting me to say something like that, and he reached into his robes and took out that blue bottle. I closed my mouth, and tried to turn my head away, but he held my nose until I had to breathe. I spat it out, but it only takes a few drops to work. He asked me where Harry Potter lived. I told him I didn't know, and that even if I did, I would never tell him. He figured that if I really didn't know, it had to mean that Harry had a Secret Keeper. I – I begged him to stop..."
Hermione's voice cracked, and she stopped for a moment.
"He asked me who it was. I told him I didn't want to tell him, which was the truth, but it was getting harder and harder to resist. He asked if it was Ron—"
"Stop," Lupin interrupted hurriedly, and Harry noted the edge of panic in his voice, "That's enough, Hermione."
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, and he paused a moment. "Did you, at any point, name someone as being Harry Potter's Secret Keeper?" Dumbledore asked carefully.
It seemed everyone was holding their breath. Harry looked over to his right, and saw Neville standing at the edge of the crowd, white-faced, clutching his hands together.
"No," Hermione said, "I didn't name anyone...Harry arrived before I could answer."
"And did you, in fact, tell Mr. Malfoy whether Harry had a Secret Keeper or not? Or did he just assume?"
"He just assumed," Hermione said, "I never told him Harry Potter had a Secret Keeper."
Harry risked darting another glance at Neville. They made eye contact, and they shared a brief look of mingled horror and relief.
Suddenly, Draco looked up from the ground and glared at Harry. Harry snapped his eyes away from Neville and met Draco's as fast as he could, but it wasn't fast enough. Draco's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he glanced at Neville before he returning his scowl to the ground. Harry thought he saw some of his signature sneer return.
"He knows," a panicked voice in Harry's head whined, "He knows." He wanted to make eye contact with Neville again, to warn him, but he didn't dare risk it. Madame Pomfrey had packed up her bag, and moved over to Hermione's side.
"What happened then, Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked firmly.
"Harry told him to stop. I warned Harry that Malfoy had the Disillusionment charm on him. I think Draco hit Harry over the head. He fell to the ground. I tried to call for help, but Draco covered my mouth. I bit him," she said strongly, hatred and disgust contorting her face, "I bit his hand really hard. I could taste his blood in my mouth...his [I]pure[/I] blood."
Snape wrinkled his nose uncomfortably at Malfoy's reddening bandage. "Serves him right," Harry thought fiercely.
"He started screaming. He backed away, and I tried to spit the blood out – it made me gag a few times. Harry must have been able to tell where he was, because he called out the Stunning spell. That's when Ron and the rest arrived. I told them to find Malfoy...and they cancelled the Disillusionment spell. He woke up a few seconds later, but Sloper and Kirke already had him. Harry wouldn't wake up, though, so Ginny told Neville to go for help. And the rest you know," Hermione finished, exhausted.
She shuddered, and hung her head. Madame Pomfrey reached into her bag, and took out a small vial.
"Here you are Miss Granger. The Draught of Peace. Calm your nerves, and then I'll take you to the hospital wing, but first, let me give you a once- over. Where does it hurt most?"
Hermione swallowed the Draught of Peace, and sighed deeply, handing it back to Madame Pomfrey.
"My back," she said calmly.
"Hold down your front," Madame Pomfrey ordered, and she carefully rolled up the back of Hermione's shirt. Several of them gasped.
There was a thick, deep red mark making a diagonal line across Hermione's lower back, with another bruise blooming above her hip bone.
"Contusions seem to match the description," Madame Pomfrey said, tracing a finger over Hermione's back, and Harry noticed a tiny Quickquill was jotting notes in a small log book that had jumped out of her bag.
"A long, red mark, approximately fourteen centimetres long, possible fracture in the right floating rib...That was probably the bleacher...a few scrapes here, and another bruise above the right ilium...plus the dirt on her right side – that's where she hit the ground. A lot of force was exercised here," she added, glaring at Malfoy above her glasses, who continued to scowl at the ground. "You said your wrists were sprained?"
Hermione nodded, and Madame Pomfrey took her hands, and began to gently move them up and down. Hermione winced a few times.
"Wiggle," she demanded, and Hermione wiggled her fingers.
"Finger-shaped contusions in the wrists, fracture unlikely, but definitely a sprain. [I]Petrificus Carpi[/I]" she added, and Hermione's wrists went stiff.
"Well! What do you have to say for yourself, Malfoy?" Lupin demanded, grinding his teeth, "What's your brilliant defense?"
"Oh, don't worry, Professor Lupin," Severus Snape said casually, looking down his hooked nose at Malfoy, "I will be taking his statement personally. And if everything is corroborated, as I'm sure it will be, I will see to it that he is appropriately...punished."
From the tone of Snape's voice, Harry felt quite sure Malfoy wasn't going to enjoy what Snape had in store. Harry was forcibly reminded of a teenage Snape, being struck by that dark, angry man, diverting the blows from his mother...Harry had a feeling Snape wasn't going to be too lenient on a student who was beating up a girl, even if it was Malfoy.
Suddenly, though, the awful thought occurred to him – what if Snape had put Malfoy up to it? What if he was being punished because he failed to figure out who the Secret Keeper was? Harry turned to Dumbledore mentally pleading for him to catch his eye. But he must not have noticed.
"Come with me, Miss Granger," Madame Pomfrey said, closing her bag with a snap, "We'll get a full report in the hospital wing." Dumbledore politely offered her a hand, and she stood stiffly, brushing the grass from her robes, as Ron helped Hermione to her feet.
"Wait," Harry said, "I'm coming too." He tried to get up, but found he was a little dizzy yet. Lupin walked over, and wordlessly gave Harry his arm. As Harry wobbled after them, he made fleeting eye contact with Dumbledore again.
"Rest, Harry." He heard Dumbledore's voice as though he were whispering in his ear: "The Order will sort this out. I'll contact you."
Harry nodded, and closed his eyes, stumbling slightly. Lupin quickly caught Harry, and slung Harry's arm over his shoulders. Harry could see the dirt covering the right side of Hermione's clothing as she and Ron followed behind Madame Pomfrey, and he burned with anger.
"He's dead," he said quietly, "A dead man. I'll kill him."
Lupin said nothing, but Harry knew the furrow in his brow meant he was worried.
"I'm not kidding," Harry said, "They'd better put him in Azkaban, or I'm going kill him myself."
"I believe you, Harry," Lupin said, "Try just to relax for now. You were very brave...you've done enough for one day."
Harry felt the anger start to melt away, but in its place came churning, bubbling guilt.
"It's my fault," the nasty refrain began in his head, "It's all my fault. I put Sirius in danger, Ron's house, now Hermione...I'm going to get us all killed. Everything I touch...Everyone I care about..."
He hung his head, and squinted his eyes shut against the painful throbbing of the lump on his head.
It was definitely Hermione, and she sounded really upset.
"Come on, Granger...you know you want to. You can't resist me for long. Just tell me. "
"That's Malfoy!" Harry realized, and putting his back to the wall of the archway, he leaned around the corner to see what was going on.
"I – I don't w-want to tell you!" Hermione forced out contemptuously. It sounded like she was having trouble speaking, somehow. Harry felt really uncomfortable – was he hearing something he shouldn't be hearing? It sounded like Hermione might be in trouble, but then again, maybe he shouldn't interfere – she'd gotten really mad at Ron the last time he'd stepped between her and Draco. And she did say that he had a "saving people thing..."
A nauseating thought occurred to him – what on Earth was Hermione doing under the bleachers, with Draco Malfoy, alone? Had she lost her mind?
"Well, that's [I]true[/I] enough," came Draco's oily sneer, "But you won't be able to avoid me for long."
Harry stepped away from the wall, and sneaking closer to the bleachers, put his ear close to the fluttering tarp so he could hear better. The sides of the bleachers were covered with a red and gold fabric bearing the Gryffindor seal that had been stretched taut, and was supposed to be tied to bolts in the woodwork, but Harry could see that someone had unlaced the bottom corner, and ducked underneath. In the small gap, Harry could just dimly make out Hermione's bushy hair. She had one of her arms pressed up against the wooden framework at an odd angle...but where was Draco?
"Is it Weasley, then?" Malfoy hissed, "It's him, isn't it?"
"Nnnnn....nnnnNo."
"Then who is it? I know you know! [I]Tell me[/I], you filthy little Mudblood, is it you?"
"I already told you," Hermione sobbed, "It's not me!"
Suddenly, Harry realized with a sinking feeling what Draco was asking about, and he grabbed the edge of the fabric and heaved, snapping several more of the ties.
"Then who!" Draco yelled, and Harry saw Hermione's hair jerk roughly to one side as she was slapped by an invisible hand...he noticed the wooden framework in front of her seemed to bend and distort – he could just make out Draco's outline.
"Tell me! [I]Who is Harry Potter's Secret Keeper?![/I]"
But Harry had arrived, ducking under the red and gold fabric. He struggled to climb through the criss-crossed structural support of the bleachers, and get his wand out from beneath his Quidditch gear at the same time.
"[I]Draco![/I]" he shouted, "Leave her alone!"
"Harry!" cried Hermione, "Harry, he's Disillusioned!"
Harry finally had freed his wand, but the woodwork in front of him was distorting and bending as though seen through a bead of water—
-- Stars and colors flashed before his eyes, and before he knew what had happened, he was tumbling to the ground, his head bursting with pain.
"[I]RON![/I]" screamed Hermione, "HELP! [I]SOMEONE HELP![/I]"
Harry heard a loud smacking noise, and Hermione's shrieking was muffled, as though someone had a hand over her mouth. Suddenly there came a quiet "pop" and a sickening squelch, and Draco Malfoy let out a screech of agony.
Harry lifted his head, and through the haze, saw Draco's invisible arm spattered with the blood dripping from his bitten hand. Hermione was spitting and retching on the ground.
Harry lifted his wand, and aimed it at the place he knew Draco had to be.
"[I]STUPEFY![/I]"
He heard a loud thunk, and some dust fell from the bleachers above them – Draco must have fallen against a support. Harry heard the commotion of voices – the flap was pulled back, and he could hear the sound of shoes scraping against the dirt.
"[I]Hermione![/I]" shouted Ron, "[I]Harry![/I]"
"Ron!" bawled Hermione, and Harry saw two Rons kneel down and gather up two sobbing Hermiones. Several other people wearing shin-guards were walking towards him.
"Ah, good," Harry thought. And he allowed himself to black out.
"[I]ENNERVATE![/I]"
Harry found his head was still splitting, and he could feel the coarse dirt under his cheek. He could taste grit and blood in his mouth, and his tongue felt three sizes too large. He realized he must have bit his tongue when Draco hit him over the head.
He moaned groggily, and sat up. He opened his eyes to see Professor McGonagall's white face, peering into his, her lips a taut line. Sloper, Kirke, and one of the Hufflepuff Beaters were holding on to the now visible Malfoy, who sulked with a reddening bandage around his hand. Ron was sitting in the same place with Hermione as she sobbed and sobbed onto his shoulder. Harry felt his stomach wrench – Hermione never let anyone see her cry that way. Ginny was holding up the red and gold fabric, and Harry could see a hushed crowd of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Quidditch players congregated over in the alley between the bleachers and the locker room arch, peering in at them.
"What – happened," McGonagall snapped through gritted teeth, panic and fury fighting for dominance in her voice.
"Draco," Harry said, feeling like he was speaking in slow motion, "Heard him...and Hermione...asking..."
The world seemed to be spinning again. McGonagall put a hand on the back of his neck and held his head up for him.
"Alright, Potter, it's alright."
She wheeled around at the frightened Quidditch players gathered near the archway. "[I]MOVE![/I]"
They scrambled out of the way.
"Potter, can you walk?"
"Sure," Harry said, "Sure." He struggled to get up, and he felt as though his head would split in two.
McGonagall knelt down, and struggled to lift him. The Hufflepuff beater hurried over and grabbed his other side. Between the two of them, they managed to get Harry out from under the bleachers, followed by Ron with Hermione, and Sloper and Kirke with Malfoy.
Harry saw Dumbledore, Madame Pomfrey, Snape, and Lupin running across the Quidditch pitch, followed closely by Neville.
"Harry!" shouted Lupin, "Harry, are you alright? Where's Hermione? Where's Ron?"
"We're right here," Harry heard Ron say from behind him, "We're alright."
"Set him down. Set him down!" Madame Pomfrey ordered, and Harry felt his knees give under him as McGonagall and the Hufflepuff boy lowered him to the grassy turf.
"[I]Lumos![/I]"
Madame Pomfrey was shining the light from her wand in his eyes, and he closed them tight, his head pounding.
"Open," she barked. Finally, she put her wand down, and half-blinded, Harry blinked owlishly as she held up a finger and moved it back and forth in front of his face.
"Follow with your eyes – no, don't turn your head," she ordered brusquely.
"Harry," Lupin said, kneeling down next to him, worry etched deeply into the lines on his brow, "Harry, what—"
"When I'm through, Remus!" barked Madame Pomfrey. She gave a tricky little flick of her wand and aimed it at the growing lump on Harry's head.
"[I]Glacius![/I]"
Harry suddenly felt a soothing coolness pressing wetly on his head.
"Your mouth is bleeding," Madame Pomfrey said, "Say 'Ah.'"
"Mr. Weasley. Can [I]you[/I] tell us what happened?" McGonagall asked.
"Give them a moment, Minerva," Dumbledore said in his soothing bass. Harry couldn't see around Madame Pomfrey's head, but it sounded as though Ron and Hermione had seated themselves a few feet away from him. He could see Malfoy out of the corner of his eye, scowling at the turf while Sloper and Kirke stood over him.
"I can, sir" came Hermione's trembling voice, "I'm still under the influence of the Veritaserum."
"What?!" McGonagall sounded as though she was either going to faint or expell somebody.
"Please, Professor...before it wears off."
"Are you sure you feel able, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked gently. Harry tried to peek around Madame Pomfrey's head to check on Hermione, but she jerked his head back over by the chin.
"Swish with this, and spit a few times," she commanded. Harry took a mouthful of the potion and found it tasted like moldy oranges and stung his tongue. He spat it out, and Madame Pomfrey forced him to take another swig.
"Yes, sir," Hermione said, her voice regaining some of its old sound, "I'd gone to watch Harry and Ron practice – Ron and I had a row the other day, and I wanted to make him feel guilty so he'd apologize."
Harry felt a little embarrassed for Hermione – after all, the Veritaserum would force her to be totally honest.
"I got there late and they were already nearly done with practice. I sat on the lower level of the Gryffindor bleachers, watching. There were only two people on the Hufflepuff bleachers, across and down the field from me, and they were watching the game also. I heard someone behind me whisper the Silencing spell. I tried to ask who was there, but I found I couldn't speak. I was about to stand up, but..."
Her voice trailed off, and she took a shaky breath.
"Someone pulled me from behind, by my clothing. I felt the bleachers digging into my back. I tried to scream..."
Hermione's voice was trembling. Harry felt furious. Somebody had to stop this. It wasn't right.
"Headmaster," said Lupin, "We should really do this—"
"I can keep going," Hermione interrupted hurriedly, "I felt somebody grab me around the neck and shoulders...they pushed me down sideways, and pulled me through the gap in the bleachers. I fell on the ground, hard...I think I hurt my hip and my shoulder a bit. I couldn't see who it was, because they had a Disillusionment charm on them, but I could tell it was Malfoy from the smell of his hair potion – he always uses Sleakeazy's..."
"And is it not possible, Miss Granger," came Severus's oily voice, "That there was some other reason you were under the bleachers?"
"What are you suggesting, Severus?" said Lupin. Harry could hear the threat in his dangerously calm voice.
"I have no intention of calling into question Miss Granger's character," Snape said slickly, "I only mean to suggest that Miss Granger may have arranged to meet Malfoy...or she may have confronted him and gotten involved in some argument..."
"We found this on the ground," Ron said angrily. Madame Pomfrey leaned over to fish around in her bag, and Harry could see around her that Ron was holding up a small blue bottle to Snape, his ears burning red.
"I think she's telling the truth," he glared.
Madame Pomfrey blocked his view again, as she began painfully dabbing the lump on his head with cotton balls.
"That could be any kind of potion," Snape said, "We have to test it to be sure. Miss Granger – please tell us your name and your house."
"Hermione Granger, Gryffindor."
"Are your parents Wizards or Muggles?"
"Muggles," Hermione said.
"And tell me," Snape continued silkily, "Did you, or any of your friends steal Boomslang skin from my cupboard of private ingredients in your second year?"
"Severus, really!" Professor McGonagall reprimanded, "You don't need to answer that, Miss Granger."
"Headmaster, what happened three years ago is over and done with," Snape said, as though this were a waste of time, "But I must ask something that Miss Granger would otherwise lie about in order to determine whether she is still under the influence of the Veritaserum."
"You can test the bottle later, Severus," Dumbledore said, "For now, I think—"
"Yes," Hermione said, ashamed, "Yes. I - We did."
"Ah," Snape said, and Harry noted with disgust the slight smugness in Snape's voice, "Very well, Miss Granger, continue."
"He picked me up and pushed me against the bleachers," Hermione said, "I went for my wand, but he grabbed my wrists and held them over my head. I think I sprained them trying to get away."
Harry felt his hands shaking, and he realized he'd clenched them into fists.
"He told me he had some questions he wanted to ask me, and that if I called for help, he'd hex me. He took the Silencing Charm off, and I told him it would be a cold day in hell before I told him anything. He told me he'd been expecting me to say something like that, and he reached into his robes and took out that blue bottle. I closed my mouth, and tried to turn my head away, but he held my nose until I had to breathe. I spat it out, but it only takes a few drops to work. He asked me where Harry Potter lived. I told him I didn't know, and that even if I did, I would never tell him. He figured that if I really didn't know, it had to mean that Harry had a Secret Keeper. I – I begged him to stop..."
Hermione's voice cracked, and she stopped for a moment.
"He asked me who it was. I told him I didn't want to tell him, which was the truth, but it was getting harder and harder to resist. He asked if it was Ron—"
"Stop," Lupin interrupted hurriedly, and Harry noted the edge of panic in his voice, "That's enough, Hermione."
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, and he paused a moment. "Did you, at any point, name someone as being Harry Potter's Secret Keeper?" Dumbledore asked carefully.
It seemed everyone was holding their breath. Harry looked over to his right, and saw Neville standing at the edge of the crowd, white-faced, clutching his hands together.
"No," Hermione said, "I didn't name anyone...Harry arrived before I could answer."
"And did you, in fact, tell Mr. Malfoy whether Harry had a Secret Keeper or not? Or did he just assume?"
"He just assumed," Hermione said, "I never told him Harry Potter had a Secret Keeper."
Harry risked darting another glance at Neville. They made eye contact, and they shared a brief look of mingled horror and relief.
Suddenly, Draco looked up from the ground and glared at Harry. Harry snapped his eyes away from Neville and met Draco's as fast as he could, but it wasn't fast enough. Draco's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he glanced at Neville before he returning his scowl to the ground. Harry thought he saw some of his signature sneer return.
"He knows," a panicked voice in Harry's head whined, "He knows." He wanted to make eye contact with Neville again, to warn him, but he didn't dare risk it. Madame Pomfrey had packed up her bag, and moved over to Hermione's side.
"What happened then, Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked firmly.
"Harry told him to stop. I warned Harry that Malfoy had the Disillusionment charm on him. I think Draco hit Harry over the head. He fell to the ground. I tried to call for help, but Draco covered my mouth. I bit him," she said strongly, hatred and disgust contorting her face, "I bit his hand really hard. I could taste his blood in my mouth...his [I]pure[/I] blood."
Snape wrinkled his nose uncomfortably at Malfoy's reddening bandage. "Serves him right," Harry thought fiercely.
"He started screaming. He backed away, and I tried to spit the blood out – it made me gag a few times. Harry must have been able to tell where he was, because he called out the Stunning spell. That's when Ron and the rest arrived. I told them to find Malfoy...and they cancelled the Disillusionment spell. He woke up a few seconds later, but Sloper and Kirke already had him. Harry wouldn't wake up, though, so Ginny told Neville to go for help. And the rest you know," Hermione finished, exhausted.
She shuddered, and hung her head. Madame Pomfrey reached into her bag, and took out a small vial.
"Here you are Miss Granger. The Draught of Peace. Calm your nerves, and then I'll take you to the hospital wing, but first, let me give you a once- over. Where does it hurt most?"
Hermione swallowed the Draught of Peace, and sighed deeply, handing it back to Madame Pomfrey.
"My back," she said calmly.
"Hold down your front," Madame Pomfrey ordered, and she carefully rolled up the back of Hermione's shirt. Several of them gasped.
There was a thick, deep red mark making a diagonal line across Hermione's lower back, with another bruise blooming above her hip bone.
"Contusions seem to match the description," Madame Pomfrey said, tracing a finger over Hermione's back, and Harry noticed a tiny Quickquill was jotting notes in a small log book that had jumped out of her bag.
"A long, red mark, approximately fourteen centimetres long, possible fracture in the right floating rib...That was probably the bleacher...a few scrapes here, and another bruise above the right ilium...plus the dirt on her right side – that's where she hit the ground. A lot of force was exercised here," she added, glaring at Malfoy above her glasses, who continued to scowl at the ground. "You said your wrists were sprained?"
Hermione nodded, and Madame Pomfrey took her hands, and began to gently move them up and down. Hermione winced a few times.
"Wiggle," she demanded, and Hermione wiggled her fingers.
"Finger-shaped contusions in the wrists, fracture unlikely, but definitely a sprain. [I]Petrificus Carpi[/I]" she added, and Hermione's wrists went stiff.
"Well! What do you have to say for yourself, Malfoy?" Lupin demanded, grinding his teeth, "What's your brilliant defense?"
"Oh, don't worry, Professor Lupin," Severus Snape said casually, looking down his hooked nose at Malfoy, "I will be taking his statement personally. And if everything is corroborated, as I'm sure it will be, I will see to it that he is appropriately...punished."
From the tone of Snape's voice, Harry felt quite sure Malfoy wasn't going to enjoy what Snape had in store. Harry was forcibly reminded of a teenage Snape, being struck by that dark, angry man, diverting the blows from his mother...Harry had a feeling Snape wasn't going to be too lenient on a student who was beating up a girl, even if it was Malfoy.
Suddenly, though, the awful thought occurred to him – what if Snape had put Malfoy up to it? What if he was being punished because he failed to figure out who the Secret Keeper was? Harry turned to Dumbledore mentally pleading for him to catch his eye. But he must not have noticed.
"Come with me, Miss Granger," Madame Pomfrey said, closing her bag with a snap, "We'll get a full report in the hospital wing." Dumbledore politely offered her a hand, and she stood stiffly, brushing the grass from her robes, as Ron helped Hermione to her feet.
"Wait," Harry said, "I'm coming too." He tried to get up, but found he was a little dizzy yet. Lupin walked over, and wordlessly gave Harry his arm. As Harry wobbled after them, he made fleeting eye contact with Dumbledore again.
"Rest, Harry." He heard Dumbledore's voice as though he were whispering in his ear: "The Order will sort this out. I'll contact you."
Harry nodded, and closed his eyes, stumbling slightly. Lupin quickly caught Harry, and slung Harry's arm over his shoulders. Harry could see the dirt covering the right side of Hermione's clothing as she and Ron followed behind Madame Pomfrey, and he burned with anger.
"He's dead," he said quietly, "A dead man. I'll kill him."
Lupin said nothing, but Harry knew the furrow in his brow meant he was worried.
"I'm not kidding," Harry said, "They'd better put him in Azkaban, or I'm going kill him myself."
"I believe you, Harry," Lupin said, "Try just to relax for now. You were very brave...you've done enough for one day."
Harry felt the anger start to melt away, but in its place came churning, bubbling guilt.
"It's my fault," the nasty refrain began in his head, "It's all my fault. I put Sirius in danger, Ron's house, now Hermione...I'm going to get us all killed. Everything I touch...Everyone I care about..."
He hung his head, and squinted his eyes shut against the painful throbbing of the lump on his head.
