Disclaimer: All characters mentioned in the Harry Potter books are under copyright of J.K. Rowling. Gertie Keddle and Count Vlad Drakul were taken from the Harry Potter Comic Relief books and Playstation games.
Chapter 5 – Harry's Discovery
Harry stared at Malfoy's cold sneer, smiling back at him. Malfoy? It...he... His thoughts swam in a pool of disbelief. Malfoy...
"Mr. Potter, kindly take your seat, please," Professor Flitwick instructed in his squeaky voice, climbing back on top of his pedestal of books. His small height made it rather difficult to address the class without them.
It was Hermione's gentle tug on his arm that made Harry blink, snapping himself back into reality. "Come on," she softly whispered, tearing his gaze away from the grey eyes and quickly guiding him towards his seat, where he sat down, dumbfounded and still.
This is what Hermione was trying to tell me...
He cast another look at Malfoy across the rows. The boy offered a small nod of the head in his direction, as if to say: "Hello again," but not in the way Harry liked. He turned away and focused on retrieving his Charms book from his schoolbag.
"Malfoy's back?" he shot a whisper across to Hermione. "But he - "
"Shh, Harry...we'll talk later," she said quickly, darting her eyes as a warning towards Flitwick, who was surveying them suspiciously. She was right...Harry couldn't afford any more of the teachers telling him to hold his tongue in class. They already were beginning to doubt how serious he was about this war.
Finding it an incredible urge to direct a message back across to the Slytherin row of students, he pressed his nose into his spell book and forced himself to read the passage there. From the corner of his eye he could see Ron, just as distraught and flabbergasted as he was.
The lesson was basically a reminder to all of the spells they had previously learnt in the last year. Flitwick's strategy was therefore different to McGonagall's. He preferred to "refresh the pupil's mind" before advancing to new outlooks. It should have been easy for Harry, if his mind didn't keep wandering...
Twice he had failed to achieve a perfect Summoning charm due to lack of concentration. Even though it was a little out of her way, Hermione quickly dove in to help him during Flitwick's inspections. Harry didn't even notice.
"Harry, please," she tried to reason with him. "I can't keep helping you...you know all this, we only went through it a few months back." Her voice was serious.
Harry ran a hand through his hair, letting his breath out in some frustration. "I'm sorry, Hermione."
"Just ignore him. Don't look at him...try and take your mind off - "
"I can't."
His last words were so harsh they were final. The lesson seemed to drag on and on...until it felt (especially to Harry and Ron,) that they had been there all day. Words passed through thin air...they were all but nonsense to Harry's ears. When he finally heard the bell ring, he almost couldn't believe it.
"Harry..." Hermione began, wondering for a moment that he was going to do something ridiculous – however, she had never seen him move so quickly in the opposite direction. Gathering his books, he walked fast towards the door without looking back, Ron and Hermione in pursuit.
"Wait, Harry!" Ron called out, catching up. His voice echoed around the corridor.
Harry knew why he was walking away. The last thing that he wanted to happen right now was to get involved in a confrontation with Malfoy, especially when all of the Slytherins were standing around the classroom door, whispering and waiting for a reaction. A girl cried out: "Slow him down, Weasley!"
"Get a load of this!"
"Hey, Malfoy – I don't think he wants to say "hi"!" Pansy Parkinson, a tight-lipped Slytherin laughed away behind the crowds.
No, I don't. No, I don't. All Harry wanted was to keep out of Malfoy's way, even if that meant stepping away from a good and proper comeback. What he wouldn't have given right then to turn around and show that he wasn't bothered by him coming back...if only he didn't care...
"Hey, Potter! Where are you off to?" Malfoy's voice, smug and slippery.
Hermione had at last caught up with Harry, but followed his lead, and did not look back. She took up her usual chant of: "Ignore him, ignore him..." perhaps to convince herself as well as the others. There were times when even she could not hold herself back from the likes of Draco Malfoy.
A long, pregnant silence followed, that was only broken by footsteps on the cold, hard floor of the corridor.
"Potter! Don't walk away! What's the matter? Aren't you happy to see me?"
Harry grit his teeth hard at the slimy comments. Damn him. Why has he come back, anyway? he thought. I can't believe that he wanted to. He would never...Thousands of questions brimming with anger clouded his mind. Everything seemed to make no sense recently.
"That's right!" another Slytherin boy shouted after him. "You're too much of a coward, Potter. What were you expecting coming back after what happened this year? Why waste your time when you couldn't even - "
"You what?" Ron snarled, interrupting him, and spinning around on his heels.
"Ron!" Hermione hissed, turning around too.
A mocking of whoops and fake shrieks rang out along the group of Slytherins. Two Gryffindor girls that had just exited the classroom stopped in their tracks for a second to watch, and then quickly picked up speed down the corridor, clutching their books to their chests.
"Don't get yourself uptight, Weasley!" Malfoy said, folding his arms. "This isn't even your fight, is it? What are you now, his bodyguard or something?"
"Stardom gone to his head, has it?" Pansy sneered, accompanied by a rowdy roar of gushing laughter from the group, mainly from the look on Ron's face.
He had gone to take another step towards them, one hand threateningly reaching inside of his robes, when Hermione's firm grip had halted him in his tracks. No, Ron... she thought beseechingly. He's impossible to deal with...they all are. Her fingers were tight and she hoped her message would come through.
"Come on, let's go," she whispered softly. At the sound of her voice, Ron stared back into her eyes, calmed down a little and turned his back on the Slytherins, although a scowl was still clear on his face.
An immediate hoot of laughter followed them.
"Poor Weasley! Granger has you under her thumb!" Malfoy joked in his snooty voice. "I never thought I'd see you being ordered around by a girl, especially a stinking, dirty, know-it-all Mud - "
The rest of his disgusting taunts were lost as Ron violently spun around, tearing his arm out of Hermione's grip. She tried to grab him again in vain, but it was hopeless.
"Ron!" she cried in exasperation.
"Malfoy, I'm serious – if you don't shove off..."
"Oh, and what will you do about it?" Malfoy struck back, his confident grin now replaced with an obnoxious frown. The other Slytherins around him sniggered and nodded towards Ron, as though mocking his temper. "We all saw you in Flitwick's. You're so backwards you couldn't even aim your Summoning charms...is it because you have no brain cells? Or can't you afford any?"
Pansy broke out into another batch of giggles. Ron made to lunge forward.
"No, Ron!"
Hermione reached out and caught his hand before he could do anything drastic, attempting to pull him back. Malfoy really knows how to wind him up, she thought. If he carries on, he'll do something he'll regret – even end up in serious trouble... The best she did was to calm him down...a little.
Both boys stood apart from one another, staring the other out.
"Listen here, Malfoy – I don't care what you say about me, but when you talk about my friends like that..." Ron mumbled, his cheeks burning pink with rage. As always, it caused his freckles to stand out enormously, making his appearance rather amusing. His right hand was still dangerously close to the inside of his robes. Just one word...
Malfoy sniggered, but it was difficult to tell why. "Weasley, you sad little - "
"Oh, stop it!" Hermione snapped, quickly stepping in between them, frowning. Her hair fell into her eyes as she turned her head, glaring at them both. "This is getting ridiculous." They're both arguing over nothing...none of this is important, she thought to herself, more annoyed than anything.
Malfoy was just about to snarl back a venomous reply when Professor Flitwick, unknowingly, stepped into the corridor and was rather startled to see so many people outside of his classroom.
The silence immediately fell into the corridor and everyone backed off, resuming their relaxed positions and watching their feet very carefully. Ron dropped his hand from his robes as quick as a flash, placing it on the back of his neck.
Flitwick stared up at them all, very confused, and asked them, "My, my...what's all this?" His shrill voice went even higher when he raised a question.
"Nothing," Malfoy murmured an inaudible response, offering Hermione a soundless scowl as he followed the others down the opposite corridor. He never looked back once, and it wasn't until every last Slytherin has disappeared before Ron made his move to depart too. Flitwick was looking back and forth curiously.
Quick, Ron thought as his footsteps hit the floor. Before he starts asking more questions...
Hermione gave her teacher an apologetic smile before catching up with Ron. Neither of them said a word to one another until they had turned around the corner, and even then it was uncomfortable conversation.
Ron was starting to feel slightly embarrassed that he had lost his temper like that, so sudden after Malfoy's return to Hogwarts. It was his fault, he reminded himself. He shouldn't have started on Harry like that...I was just defending him.
"Sorry," he said again for the seventh time, "but you saw why I fought back."
Hermione just rolled her eyes with a click of her tongue and stepped into the Grand Staircase hallway. "That was no excuse to badger him further, though," she said, matter-of-factly. "You could have just ignored, him...walked away! That would have shown him up more then actually giving him what he wanted."
How many times do I have to tell them? she wondered to herself thoughtfully.
"Well, yeah..." Ron said slowly, "but he's just so..."
"I know, I know, 'you can't help it'," Hermione quoted him, lifting her book bag over her shoulder. "Honestly – you and Harry are exactly the same. That's why I didn't bother telling you...I knew you would flip. Just let it go, now, please? Malfoy knew you would fight back as much as I did!"
Ron just frowned to himself and ruffled the crown of his head with his hand. There were sometimes when Hermione was just right, and there was nothing he could say to prove her wrong. This was one of those times.
"You didn't exactly turn your back on him in third year, did you?" he argued softly. "Now, you can't deny that you didn't "flip" yourself? You gave him your hardest slap!" Well, the hardest I've seen... Ron corrected himself.
Hermione had suddenly gone rather quiet, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Well...that was different – I was overworked, there was the Committee going on, and – and it wasn't over something as petty as this, so, yes...it's quite different..." She approached the portrait of the Fat Lady, keeping her face away from Ron and muttering the password under her breath.
Ron shook his head to himself as he followed. I can't win with her.
They found Harry in the common room, writing something angrily onto parchment, his face firm and set. Dean Thomas was in the left corner, playing a game of Gobstones with Neville, eyeing him worriedly. It was apparent that Harry hadn't fully calmed down yet, though he was dealing with it better than Ron had.
Hermione and Ron approached him from behind, her hand gently stroking his shoulder. "Harry?"
He jumped at her touch, spinning around, but settling and turning back with a sigh when he saw it was her. He placed his head onto his fist as he continued to write, this time without as much force. Ron brought a chair away from the other side of the room and sat himself in front of Harry, trying not to be interested in what was on the parchment.
Hermione bit her lip. He looks so unhappy... she thought miserably. "Harry?"
"Mate, I know it's bad news that Malfoy's back and everything," Ron said, trying his best to reassure. "But...it's not like it's for a whole year or anything. Couple of weeks, he'll be gone. Then we've just got after the summer to worry about him."
It was funny to hear Ron talking like this, only minutes after threatening Malfoy just for saying a few harsh words. He couldn't hide a blush when he caught Hermione smirking out of the corner of his eye.
All right, I admit it – perhaps I did rush in without thinking, he thought. But there's no chance I'm letting her rub it in.
Harry lifted his head up and smiled at Ron in front of him. "I know."
"Good," Hermione said immediately, before anyone else could say otherwise. She moved around to drop her bag in one of the armchairs, hugging Harry from behind on her way. "Cheer up, we just have to enjoy ourselves in the meantime. We can't just let some big-headed Slytherins divide our concentration."
This is definitely one of those times where Hermione is just right, Ron smiled.
Hermione sat down in the armchair, looking very comfortable beside the fire, and searched through her bag for her notes.
Ron cleared his throat slowly, peering over the table and trying to read Harry's neatened scrawls upside down...or what he could see past the arm that was attempting to cover it up. "What're you writing?"
Harry took a deep breath, placing the end of his quill to his mouth, and letting the feather trail over his lips. "A letter to Sirius," he explained. "He sent me one before I came, wanting me to tell him how everything was going in the first couple of days." He noticed how hard he had been pressing the nib into the parchment, and stared for a moment.
"Oh," Ron replied. "Did you mention Malfoy at all?"
Harry glanced up at him, no emotion in his face. What do you think?
"No," he said. "That's not really important."
Ron chewed on his lip and made no response, his gaze wandering over to Neville and Dean, still involved in their game of Gobstones.
I know Harry's got something more on his mind, he thought to himself. Even if he doesn't want to talk about it...even though he says there isn't, there is. He can't fool us.
"Harry... " Ron started reluctantly, his brow furrowed in concern and his voice tight in his throat. "You're..."
Hermione's small cry of disdain shot up from the corner of the room. Harry and Ron couldn't tell whether she was using it for mild distraction or not.
"What's the matter?" Ron asked her, turning around on his chair.
Hermione had unravelled her timetable and was looking at it with an expression of mild terror, and also surprise. "I didn't even notice that we had another History of Magic lesson so close to our last!" she exclaimed. "I mean, it's only a short one – half an hour – but still...the teachers must really want us to catch up on that subject or something..." her voice trailed off. That seems strange…
Harry leant forward onto the desk, continuing to write his letter carefully. "Maybe the class tests weren't going so well last year," he pondered aloud, dipping the end of his quill into his ink bottle.
Ron groaned and leant backwards, his hands behind his head. "I don't see the point having History of Magic. It's a stupid, worthless lesson."
"Oh, Ron," Hermione sighed impatiently, folding up her timetable again and placing it back into her bag. "Without History of Magic, where would we wizards today understand and learn who made all of those discoveries hundreds of years ago? There are thousands of important remedies now, and modern activities that we often take for granted - "
"Be quiet, you and your hundreds-and-thousands," Ron interrupted, making a ridiculed gesture with his fingers below his chin, causing Harry to laugh out loud.
How did I guess that Hermione would easily defend a subject that has completely been formed from books? Ron thought incredulously. I mean...honestly!
Hermione glared at him, placing her palms onto her knees and leaning forward. "Without History of Magic, you wouldn't have been able to complete your homework assignment, so...there." She finished rather feebly, and she sat back again, fuming...her eyes bright.
"Without History of Magic, there wouldn't have been an assignment, so there!"
"Oh..." Hermione sighed in frustration, falling back heavily into the chair. "Really, Ron, you could say that about any of the subjects here! Potions, Charms...Transfiguration – you need to learn these things to advance after you leave Hogwarts – and yes - " she quickly cut in, as Ron opened his mouth to protest, "even the greatest wizards and witches struggled in life without History of Magic, so there."
Ron just shot her an impertinent glower and fidgeted around on his seat. There's no point arguing with her, he pouted. Even when she knows I'm right, she won't admit it. She just can't stand being in the wrong. That's just so bloody typical of her. Everything has to be her way...
Thinking fast, Harry picked up his own copy of A History of Magic and hunted through it, clearing his throat.
"So, Ron," he trailed slowly, making sure he had his friend's attention, "Professor Binns would have probably marked our assignments by the time we have that extra lesson. Who was it that you wrote about, again?"
Overjoyed and satisfied with him, Hermione's eyes lit up.
"Oh, it was, um... Gertie Keddle, yeah, that was her name," Ron smiled. "D'you know, she had the first written accounts of how Quidditch was played? She used to see broomstick games on the Queerditch marsh and everything."
"I knew," Hermione slipped in casually. Ron pretended to ignore her.
"Anyway, I was pretty surprised to find anything about Quidditch in that ruddy book," he continued. "But I suppose it makes sense, seeing how she basically founded it and all. If it wasn't for those diary entries she..."
Huh? Diary? Harry's head shot up at the word.
Ron quickly blushed, facing his head towards the floor. Great...another stupid mistake, he thought glumly."You know what? Never mind."
Trying to forget about it, Harry located the name among the pages and read the passage there carefully. Everything that Ron had described was correct. Wow, he thought, not being able to conceal his amazement. When Ron puts his mind to his interests, he's quite a Know-It-All himself. I'm not sure if he'd be glad to hear it though...
"What about you, Hermione?" Harry asked, turning to face her by the fire. She appeared strangely eager to detail her homework to them, taking her hands off her knees and lying them in her lap.
"I wrote about Count Vlad Drakul," she said. "The notorious vampire who inspired Bram Stoker, the Muggle, to write his novel Dracula. He based it on his character, you know. Vlad the Impaler, another vampire, was his son." She beamed around at them both, looking rather pleased with herself.
Ron's eyebrows had shot into his hair and he bent his gaze down to stare her in the eye.
"Hark at you," he remarked quietly.
She just provided a defiant glare as a response, crossing her feet over one another. "I thought it would be interesting...choosing someone like a vampire," she stated casually. "Professor Binns mentioned in the lesson beforehand that extra marks may be awarded to those who picked – and I quote, "an unusual character"."
That rule perhaps applies to anyone who is still awake to hear the reminders, I suppose...when the lesson is finally over, she thought to herself.
"Oh...sorry, Hermione..." Harry's voice broke over her wave of glory, glancing up from the book with his face pulled taut. "But...I don't think that you're going to get any marks."
Ron turned around to stare at him, frowning a little in astonishment.
There was a slow, stunned silence, broken by Hermione's squeak. "What?"
Harry spun the book around to show her, on the page where her subject character should be. It wasn't there. There was no record that Count Vlad Drakul ever existed with the bindings.
Hermione just stared in horror, shaking her head slowly. But...that's impossible! she cried in her head. It was there when I wrote it...it was there...I wouldn't just make up something like this...it was there...
"But...my copy had it..." she stammered out, in shock, rapidly searching in desperation for her own book. "I swear to you, Harry...I would not use any other book besides the one that Professor Binns provided..." She was already flicking through pages frantically.
I don't think she'll find it, Harry thought, feeling a bit sorry for her, and checking to see if he had missed any section by accident. No, not there. Maybe she misread the wrong book...or thought she had memorized something...and have got them mixed up...
Ron didn't really know who to believe. He scratched his head in wonder as Hermione finally carried her book over to the table. She practically ran there.
"There! See, I knew that I didn't make a mistake! Count Vlad Drakul, right there!" She pointed triumphantly, her breathing finally settling down to a regular pace.
Harry could only stare. He leant forward, squinting at the text sprawled out onto the parchment. But...then...how does hers have it in, and not mine?
Wild, strange questions scurried about in the corners of his brain, and he made a strange wheezing noise in disbelief. This is one of the books I've never written in, never torn, and never accidentally damaged. How then...?
He pulled her copy next to his, comparing the two. He swallowed softly, his eyes scanning down the list of names...none appearing within his own book. It was almost as though a page had been completely removed.
This is so strange... he thought, a stiff feeling coming into his throat. It seems as though everything is wrong with me all of a sudden. What's going on - ? Wait...
His eyes lingered on one name down the list. For some reason, he felt as though he had seen it before. It was impossible...he didn't even know who it was...he had never heard anyone speak of it...but for some unknown reason...he knew. His finger stroked over the words slowly, as if he was trying to connect with them.
Where have I heard that name before? he asked himself. Torac Demonio. Who is Torac Demonio?
