Reviewers! Angel, you raised an interesting point about McGonagall. In all honesty, I doubt she would ask Harry if something was wrong … not because she doesn't care, but because she has seven million things to do as an instructor and has other things to worry about besides a depressed teenager. Infall, thankees! I appreciate the support. And E.A.V., Ron was being rather Slytherin, wasn't he? LOL I thought it would be fun to let him go on a "mission" like that. Glad you enjoyed.
CHAPTER FOUR: Discovery
It was 7:30, and the Great Hall had emptied somewhat. Ron sat down at the Gryffindor table to find Harry tucking into his shepherd's pie and Hermione eating some lemon rice and salad. The rest of the Quidditch team was there too, most of them looking scrubbed raw and sitting in a row opposite Ginny. Hungry as hell, as usual, Ron made a space for himself on Harry's right by shoving little Marjorie out of the way. She squeaked and crashed into Frank. Hermione and Ginny both threw him dirty looks.
In the spirit of "acting natural," he pretended not to notice. He pulled four dishes within reach and grabbed a pie, some salad, rice, and a small bowl of soup in less than ten seconds.
"Hi, Ron," Harry said with his mouth full. It sounded more like "Ha, Raw."
Hermione, seated across from Harry, gave him a rather disapproving glance. Her mouth was also quite full. She swallowed just enough to talk and said, "Don't talk with your mouth full, Harry, it's rude!"
"Says you, you chipmunk!" Ron shot at her, and began to attack his pie.
"Pig," she volleyed back effortlessly, taking a deliberately dainty bite of salad. Only after swallowing did she ask, "Have a good practice?"
"Yeah, actually," Ron said.
He knew exactly what Hermione was doing. She was trying to keep the conversation light, to keep Harry from suspecting their investigation. So far, a combination of not seeing him much and sticking to safe topics (classes, Quidditch, the occasional bit of Snape-bashing, etc.) had worked like the proverbial charm.
"What do you think, Harry?" Ron asked, nudging his best friend. "Think we have a chance at the cup this year with such a young team?" (Marjorie, still miffed at being shoved, stuck her tongue out at him.)
"Course we do," Harry said. "You're captain. How can we fail?"
Ron, having known Harry for so long, took this as a compliment and a show of support, in spite of Harry's unsmiling face and deadpan voice. His bright green eyes looked a bit glazed behind his glasses and seemed to be stuck at half-mast. Ron ignored all three of these eerie details for the moment, willed himself not to panic, and beamed.
"There's the old team spirit!" he said, and clapped Harry on the back. "How's the homework coming?"
"All right, I guess," Harry said, still with that strange, calm tone. "I'm actually going out to the greenhouses in a few minutes to work with Neville. He needs some help potting a few plants and somehow he suckered me into doing it."
"Oh," said Hermione. "Think it'll take a long time?"
"Well, that depends on Neville's definition of 'a few plants.'"
Hermione smiled at Harry's gentle dig. Harry did not. Hermione's smile became rather fixed, and then she dropped it completely when Harry turned back to his plate. She took the opportunity to share a very concerned look with Ron.
After that, there was very little conversation between the three. A few agonizing minutes passed with Hermione and Ron shooting each other glances and Harry finishing his dinner before Neville came over and tugged him up from the table, prattling on and on about Sour Spimmifidae and how much Harry would enjoy the next few hours. Ron and Hermione watched them go. Neville's buoyancy was very striking against Harry's closed expression.
Ron surreptitiously felt the flagon in his pocket and looked to his right. All the Quidditch players were tucking into their food or laughing at each other (Jim had somehow managed to decorate his shirt with rice and Ginny was scolding him). He looked left. A few white-faced fifth and seventh-years were glumly focused on eating their treacle tart, watching their plates as though eyeing their last meal.
Mmm. Dessert, Ron thought. And then … No! Mustn't get distracted!
Ron looked back at Hermione.
"Library," he hissed at her, so quietly that only she could hear. "Now."
Hermione blinked at him, her honey-brown eyes wide and her mouth so full of rice that her cheeks were pooching out.
"Chipmunk!" he added at his usual volume, and was quite pleased when she knitted her eyebrows together and went pink in annoyance.
Harry was halfway to the greenhouses with Neville when his right arm began to shake. Clamping it to his side didn't help. Focusing on walking didn't help, either. As the twitch spread to his shoulder, Harry gritted his teeth.
"And the fruit they bear is bright pink and ten times more sour than a lemon!" Neville said. "Thanks so much for helping me with this, Harry."
"No problem," Harry said tightly.
Suddenly, the world tilted to the left and he stumbled. Neville, however, took no notice of this. He was talking again, about … something. Harry couldn't pay attention anymore. He knew he needed another sip. Damn. How many did that make today? Seven? Eight? That little voice inside him said that this couldn't be good.
But unless he wanted to show Neville his impression of an epileptic, he needed a quaff. Now.
"Be right back," he mumbled, and stumbled off towards Greenhouse 3, leaving a very confused Neville behind him.
"All right, what happened?" Hermione asked, as she sat down with Ron in the library.
Ron, most annoyingly, was grinning at her and saying nothing. If she knew Ron, and she did indeed know Ron, then this was part of his triumphant "I know something you don't know" routine. But she didn't have the patience for it right now.
Some of her inner snarl seemed to come through on her face, because Ron immediately stopped acting smug and plunked down a tiny flagon in front of her.
"I just solved our case," he said.
Hermione peered at the tiny flask. The liquid inside was violently purple, like nothing she'd ever seen. She scratched her head.
"What is this, Ron? Where did you find it?"
Ron took that as his cue and launched into his tale of thievery and derring-do.
"And whatever this stuff is," he finished, "It's changing him. He was so happy before, and now he just looks … so glum."
So glum. Ron's words echoed around in Hermione's brain for a moment. Ron finding Harry's hip flask (and getting a sample of its contents) was certainly a major discovery, but something about that phrase was tickling the edge of her mind. It was the key to figuring out what was in that vial, she just knew it. She felt her insides get very tight. Judging from Ron's concerned face, she figured some of her anxiety was showing.
"So glum," she repeated … and then her eyes flared open. Of course! That was it!
It had happened … a little over a month ago, now. The fourth day of classes had just ended, and Harry had been looking depressed, staring at the ground more than usual and not saying much. Hermione had an inkling of the reason, but Ron, being his usual obtuse self, had clapped Harry on the back.
"Come on, Harry, snap out of it. It's a beautiful day, classes are over, you're back where you belong, and Dumbledore reinstated you to play Quidditch. Stop looking so glum, it's bad for morale!"
Harry glared at Ron for a moment, and then put on a large, phony, million-watt grin that didn't reach his angry green eyes. "Better?" he asked through clenched teeth.
Ron frowned. "Look, you!"
Hermione quickly stepped between them before it escalated.
"Harry, Ron didn't mean that. Ron, shut up and go away."
"Wha…?" Ron spluttered.
"You heard me," Hermione said. "Stop talking. Go up to the dormitory and trim your toenails, or something. Shoo!"
Ron looked very annoyed with her, but finally did as he was asked. Hermione turned to Harry and smiled.
"I'm going to the library to start my homework. Would you like to come with?"
Harry seemed puzzled at the invitation, but nodded. They both set off down the stone corridor and fought their way through the throng of students.
"It's the perfect place, really, the library," Hermione commented. "Brilliant for finding a bit of solitude away from loud, silly Keepers."
Harry laughed quietly.
"Plus," she added, "It's got all the answers."
And Harry … it was so fast that she nearly missed it. In fact, up until this moment, she hadn't even given it a second thought. Harry had gotten a strange look in his eyes for a microsecond, like he'd just had a brilliant idea.
"Yes, it does."
Hermione shook her head, willing herself back into the present, and stared at Ron.
"I have to speak to Madam Pince," she said, and stood up.
Ron was baffled. First, instead of complimenting him on a job well done, Hermione had just spaced out for a few seconds. And now she was insisting on speaking to the Head Librarian, a woman everyone else in the school avoided at all costs.
"But … But …" was all he managed before Hermione jumped up and ran for the Reference Desk.
Ron swiveled around in his seat to watch her go. Hermione slowed to a respectful walk, stopped at the desk, and got the attention of Madame Pince. He wasn't near enough to hear the conversation, but Hermione appeared to be wheedling (quite effectively) with the librarian.
Madame Pince looked down her nose at Hermione, sighed, crooked a twisted, arthritic finger at her, and opened a gate behind her. Ron's jaw dropped. Madame Pince was letting Hermione into the Restricted Section … and then turning back around, sitting down at her desk, and continuing her work. She wasn't even watching Hermione! What in the hell was going on? He stood up for a better look.
Hermione looked to her left and right, mumbled something, and a little ball of yellow light zipped out of her pocket. It dashed hither and thither around the Restricted Section, and Hermione followed it around, walking slowly and keeping her eyes on it so as not to attract attention. It finally alit on a musty old tome on the back shelf, second rack, and vanished. Hermione wasted no time in picking up the book.
Ron saw her open the book and mumble something else. Clearly, this girl's spellwork was second to none when it came to subtlety. Madame Pince hadn't looked up once. This time, a little green light appeared, but vanished just as quickly. The pages of the book, however … it looked like a sudden wind had sprung up. They were turning by themselves, finally stopping about three-quarters through the book. There was a small burst of sparkles, which Hermione stared at for a moment as if analyzing them.
She gazed down at the book, then stiffened and turned very white. Even from where he was, Ron could see her eyes getting big as saucers. She mumbled one final spell, waited for a moment, and then put the book back soundlessly. He watched as she smoothed her hair back in a pathetic attempt to look calm, walked past Madame Pince with a nod of thanks and came back over to him.
Hermione sat down across from Ron, pale and shaking. What she'd just seen in the Restricted Section had really frightened her. She assumed Ron had figured this out, from the way he was staring at her. He'd want an explanation.
"This is not good," she said quietly. "This is not good at all."
"What's not good?" Ron asked.
But Hermione was hardly listening. Clutched in her hand was the MagiCopy she'd made from the book. Her Prosekwami and Legiskwat spells had never led her wrong before. And the entry she'd copied… The pieces were starting to fall into place, and the picture they painted was terrifying. But she had to make absolutely sure she was right before she told Ron anything.
"I need you to do something for me," she said, and he blinked at her. "Harry's …" she checked her watch distractedly. "It's only 8:15. Harry's still stuck with Neville, I presume?"
"P-Probably," Ron said. He sounded bewildered. "You know how he gets with Herbology. He'll keep Harry there for an hour at least."
"Good," she said, "Because you have to go to your dormitory, and I mean right now. Make sure you're alone, and see if you can Accio…" She took the MagiCopy out of her pocket and read, "Powdered Billywig stings, Firewhisky, and Opal sugar."
Ron stared. And stared.
It's official, he thought. Hermione Granger has lost her mind. First she was flipping out over some book, and now she wanted him to go into his own bedroom and search for what?
Billywig, in any form, was illegal. Firewhisky was such a strong spirit that three shots were guaranteed to produce a flame-belching drunk. And Opal sugar was supposed to be a great headache remedy if mixed into tea, but it was so ridiculously expensive that the cost outweighed the benefits. Why on earth did Hermione think he would find any of that rubbish in the dormitory?
"You're having me on, right?"
She was glaring at him. "Do I look like I'm having you on?" she hissed. "Take your satchel with you. And hurry, Ron! Harry's life could depend on it!"
Ron didn't like the sound of that. He thought it best to obey. Grabbing his satchel and standing up, he watched as Hermione pulled a giant tome out of her own bookbag, took some parchment from her pocket, and spread it over her book. Ron gave her one final glance before trotting out of the library.
Five minutes later Hermione was studying her MagiCopy, glancing back and forth between it and the tiny flagon of purple stuff at her right elbow and getting increasingly nervous. She looked up to see Ron walking back in. His satchel seemed to be thicker and heavier than usual, and he was completely white in the face. Hermione pointed at the back shelves.
He saw her signal, nodded ever so slightly, and kept walking away from her table. Hermione left her stuff out and waited for a few moments after Ron had left the scene. Then she got up and followed him, hiding her pieces of parchment under her school robes.
She found Ron pacing back and forth at the end of the very last row. There was only one faint light on back here, and it cast eerie shadows on both their faces as they looked at each other. Ron plopped down on the floor and sat down cross-legged. Hermione joined him.
With a shocked expression, almost like he was watching someone else do this, he pulled three things out of his satchel: a mason jar full of crushed Billywig stings, followed by a large bottle of Firewhisky and a small, clear sack of granulated, purply-blue Opal sugar.
"H-How did you know he'd be hiding this stuff?" Ron asked quietly, in a sort of awed voice. "I summoned it from the craziest places – the bed canopy, behind the wardrobe, in one of his shoes…" He hung his head and then looked up at her, totally lost. "And this was just a tiny bit of what he's got. I put most of it back."
Hermione looked at the items on the rug and felt her throat get tight and dry. She whispered "Lumos!" Her wand tip ignited, illuminating Ron's pale, terrified face.
"This is serious," he said, motioning at all the stuff spread out on the ground between them. "I mean, the Firewhisky and the sugar we can pass off, we can say Harry's got expensive tastes. But the bloomin' Billywig … What the hell is going on?" he finished, a bit too loudly.
"Keep your voice down!" Hermione hissed. "And put that rubbish away before Madame Pince pops round and sees it!"
Ron didn't need to be told twice. He put all three items back in his satchel and closed it in the blink of an eye. Hermione, seeing there was space in front of her now, tucked a strand of bushy brown hair behind one ear and spread out the MagiCopies on the ground. She looked up.
Ron was staring at her, his face hard, his arms crossed. "'Mione, explain. Now."
"All right," she replied. "I'll just … I'll just start at the beginning then, shall I?"
TBC
A tidbit: the spells that Hermione used in the Restricted Section will be explained later, but for you "I like to mess with language" geeks out there (Spell Inventors, Unite!), Prosekwami is a mess of two words, one of them misspelled – amicus (friend) and prosequi (to pursue). Legiskwat is also a blend of two words: legis (is read) and quam (how much). So it basically translates as, "How much was read?"
A trivial, small question, perhaps, but you won't be sorry that Hermione asked it … or that she found the answer.
The next chappie will be along by Friday, my lovelies. Until we meet again. :D