Chapter 7
Hermione hurried down the stairs and into the living room. Her brown eyes were ringed with dark and red; she hadn't been able to sleep at all. She pushed the portrait open, and hurried down the stairs at an alarming speed, nearly tripping over one of the broken steps.
She arrived at the Great Hall, to find the entire Gryffindor table in an uproar.
"What's wrong?" she asked a very somber Ron, who was sitting next to a sleeping Pandora.
Ron shook his head emphatically, his bright red hair flopping. "You won't believe what Professor Snape has assigned…"
"What do you mean? We haven't had Snape yet," Hermione said.
"Hufflepuff has," Ron replied darkly. "Hannah came out in tears; and some say she hasn't fully recovered yet."
Hermione stifled a frustrated sigh. "What's the homework?"
"We have to write an entire essay, ten pages, small handwriting, about the medicinal value of the Inksap plant," Ron said, groaning as he spread a huge pat butter over a large piece of white bread.
She sat down beside him, shaking her head. "If you'd paid attention at the beginning of fifth year, you would know quite a bit about the Inksap plant. It's really quite easy; I'm sure you'll be able to get ten pages on it."
"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed indignantly, dropping his bread. "Ten pages? No doubt he'll deem that my handwriting's too big, and that my ten pages is equivalent to four pages!"
"Then write more than ten," Hermione replied coolly. "I don't understand what all the fuss is about."
Ron continued to sputter. Hermione calmly took a couple pieces of bacon and a waffle. She generously spread maple syrup over the waffle, and proceeded to eat.
Harry sat down next to her presently, blinking rapidly.
"Something wrong?" she asked.
He shook his head. "I'm just really tired. I stayed up pretty late studying some spells for Transfiguration, I figure I really need to buckle down this year if I want to make Auror qualifications."
Hermione nodded, and passed him the butter.
"But," she began. "As an aside, do you think you could help me out in doing a little research on Santisi? We've got some doubts on him; we just want to do a little background check. For Pan's sake."
"Sure," Harry replied, and then took a bite of his toast. "Sounds fine to me, I mean, we need a project of some sort. Also, Hermione-" He paused, and then lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Can you help me find some decent spells that will work to repulse Voldemort, I can't help but think that he won't be dead for much longer."
"Definitely," she replied ardently. "We all need to brush up on our Defense and Offensive skills, hopefully Professor Santisi can help us with that."
Before dinner Hermione headed to the library for the most reliable of her usual sources: Madame Pince. Many of the other students hated her with a passion, but Hermione had found that Madame Pince was invaluable. The librarian had helped her when Draco had been dead, and had even told her a piece of little known gossip about Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange.
Madame Pince was stamping books when she arrived in the dimly lit Hogwarts library, muttering about a bunch of nasty bookworms that she had found in the set of Magic Encyclopedias.
"Hello Madame Pince," Hermione said politely, standing at the desk, the perfect image of proper primness. Madame Pince looked up fleetingly, and then returned to her stamping.
"Hello, Hermione," she replied cursorily. "Can I help you this evening?"
"Yes Madame Pince," Hermione said genially, leaning on the counter, tapping her foot. "I've really enjoyed Professor Santisi's class, and I was wondering if you knew anything more about him."
Madame Pince looked up, her wizened eyebrows rose an inch. "Hermione, you never seemed like the type."
"What type?" Hermione asked, genuinely confused.
"Well, I've had many young girls come here asking about the Professor, but out of personal reasons," Madame Pince replied, stamping the book in front of her with especial force, sending up a plume of dust. "You never seemed like that type of girl."
Hermione struggled not to laugh. "Oh, of course not. I'm asking for purely academic reasons."
Madame Pince nodded as if she believed the star pupil, and nodded slightly.
"Well, to be quite honest, there is nothing about Professor Santisi anywhere," Madame Pince said surreptitiously. "And the good man refuses to divulge any information of any sort about his past. I assume the Headmaster knows a great deal about his former jobs and the like, but he also does not wish to disclose any information what so ever."
"That's very strange," Hermione replied blandly. "Nothing at all?"
Madame Pince shook her head. "Nothing at all. It's as if he doesn't exist. But we all know that's impossible. Why would Dumbledore hire a man who would deceive us?"
Hermione plopped down beside Harry, Pandora, and Ron at the dinner table. They were already attacking the shepard's pie with such enthusiasm, you'd have thought they'd been starved.
"Guess what?" she said, poking Pan excitedly. Pan was busy shoveling food into her face, and barely noticed that Hermione was talking to her.
"Waassht?" Pan asked, her mouth full. Hermione recoiled in distaste and started filling her own plate.
"I'll assume you meant 'what'," she said coolly. "I talked to Madame Pince today."
They all stopped eating, and stared at her.
"What about?" Harry asked incredulously.
Hermione glared at him angrily, and made stabbing motions with her fork in his general direction. "Don't be so rude. She was a fantastic source of information."
"What about?" Harry asked again, this time with a tone that Hermione deemed more respectable.
"Well, I asked him about Professor Santisi…"
She could her Pan swallow all her food in one gulp.
"What did she say?" Pan gasped, practically drooling. "I want to know, please tell me, Hermione!"
Hermione grinned smugly. "She says that she couldn't find any information about the Professor at all. It's as if 'he doesn't exist.' And we all know what that means."
Pan was practically jumping up and down. "He's a fake! He's a fake! I can't wait to tell Dad!"
Harry grabbed her and shoved her down onto the bench. "Don't tell your dad anything! He won't approve of us interfering with school affairs, and we'd like to figure this out on our own," Harry growled.
"Oh fine," Pan replied sulkily. "But we should tell him."
"When we have more information," Hermione said, her eyes glinting mischievously. "And we'll find plenty of that. I think we should go straight to the source."
She, Harry, and Ron all looked at each other, grinning madly.
"His office," Hermione finished gleefully. "He'll never know what hit him. The Gryffindor Gang strikes again!"
A/N: Indeed, the Gryffindor Gang strikes again! Mwa-ha-ha! Yeah, and if you're still wondering what's going on with Draco, the reasons won't come up for another chapter or two. Please leave a review!
