HERE IT IS!

ALL REJOICE!

Anyway, please understand that I was forced to write this quickly. A HUGE storm is supposed to hit at midnight, and I'm proof-reading this so, if we lose power, I can update once we get it back.. Understand my grammar mistakes.

Here it is . . .

Chapter Sixteen: The Heir of Hufflepuff

"Why are we meeting here? God, Potter could show up at any moment, and she'd know."

"Why don't you trust me? She's meeting with Weasel and Potty. They won't be back for hours."

"Ooh."

"I didn't say we meet here for that. We have business."

"Oh?"

"Important business."

"I'm sure."

"Important business."

"How important?"

"It needs to be done right away."

"So . . . tell me. What is this oh so important something that needs to be done right away?"

"Important enough that you should not ridicule it."

"Don't snap at me."

"I'm sorry."

"What is it?"

"Listen . . ."

They were an hour into The Ancient and Most Revered House of Hufflepuff, and the Golden Trio was ready to strangle the heir of Hufflepuff.

They'd unrolled the scroll, and found the newest name at the bottom. One 'Audrey Reynolds', the youngest of the Hufflepuff line, had died in 1945.

Deciding to follow the natural course of things, they started again at the top.

Ron was the first to fold.

"I'm starting to think that there is no heir," he said. "This is all just one big joke." He leaned back in his chair, and rubbed his red eyes.

Emotion was running high in their small corner of the common room. "Of course there is," snapped Hermione. "The Sorting Hat wouldn't have mentioned it unless the heir was here at Hogwarts now."

"Oh, come on," interrupted Harry, ready to be witness to another infamous Hermione vs. Ron argument. "We can do this."

Sighing, Ron bent back over the scroll.

For another ten minutes, they continued. Then Ron said, aloud, "What was wrong with these people – a brother and sister married each other!"

"Sick."

Brother and sister.

"Wait! That's it!" Hermione exclaimed.

"What's it?" chorused Harry and Ron half-heartedly.

Hermione paused to shoot them looks of ill-disguised disgust, before explaining, "These scrolls only record what it believes to be true Hufflepuff lines." She ignored Ron's "The thing can thing?" and stood up. "Any children of an illicit marriage, like that of Morgan and Geoffrey Hufflepuff, wouldn't be included."

"So the heir . . ." realized Harry.

"Is from that line," finished Hermione. "I think that I have a book on illicit lines in my Head Girl room." She stood up, tossed some Floo into the fireplace, and disappeared.

A second later, she stumbled forth, a huge tome in her arms. She dropped it on the table with a large thud.

"Forbidden Love: The Illicit Lines of the World's Major Wizarding Families," read Ron. "Who writes a book like that?" He shot a look at Hermione. "Just happened to have this, did you?"

Hermione opened the book carefully, and flipped through the pages, until she reached a yellowed page bearing the title 'Hufflepuff'. "I got this at a used book sale at Flourish and Blotts," she said in reply. She turned past the introduction, and found the fold-out page that held the line beginning with the married siblings Morgan and Geoffrey.

Harry noticed that the page was dotted with names in deep burgundy instead of the traditional black. "Those the heirs?" he asked.

"Hmm," mumbled Hermione in consent.

She ran her finger down the line to the bottom of the page. "Got it!" she announced, then, reading the name, drew in a deep breath. "No!"

"No, what?" asked Harry, leaning to read the name her finger highlighted. The first thing he noticed was that, instead of burgundy, the name she had found was in a brighter blood red.

Rose Allison Wood, he read.

"Wood?"

Hermione's finger, involuntarily, moved to the name next to it, and there he saw, Oliver Everett Wood.

"No way. Wood's sister is the heir of Hufflepuff?"

"Wait – Wood has a sister?" asked Ron.

"Try to keep up, Ron," snapped Hermione. "Of course he does. She's in Hufflepuff, fifth year."

"Oh, of course," mumbled Ron.

"Well, all we have to do is find her," said Harry brightly, trying again to sift the conversation away from a potential fight.

"Right, and once we find her, we say what?" asked Hermione. " 'Oh, hello there. We've never met, but we're searching for a piece of Voldemort's soul. Could you just grab that large cup over there that shoots acid, since you're the heir of Hufflepuff, and not get burned, then be on your way with not explanation what so ever."

"I thought you'd be helping with this!"

"I'm trying!" sighed Hermione. She leaned her head on Harry's shoulder, and he wrapped her in a soft hug. She sighed again. "It's just so frustrating!" He gently brushed some hair out of her eyes, and kissed her on the forehead.

"Don't worry," he replied, placing his cheek on the top of her head. "We always find a way. This time won't be any different."

"Of course it won't," said Ron snidely.

"Shut up, Ron," chorused the siblings.

"Um . . . Professor Wood?"

Oliver swallowed his immediate groan and turned to the short Gryffindor tugging at the bottom of his robes. His second week back at this school, and he was ready to curse the bloody midgets into oblivion.

"Yes . . . Evan?" he asked, finally remembering the minuscule student's name.

"Well, sir, you asked me to watch the class" – he'd chosen Evan at random, mostly because the boy seemed the rule-abiding, snitching type that every teacher adored – "and, well, Jenny and James Heckle are fighting again . . ."

This time, Oliver didn't bother to stifle his groan.

Of course. The moment he disappeared into his office to find some broom oil, the two of them would be back at it.

Cutting off the plump first year, Oliver exited his office and walked quickly across the field to the huddle that was eerily familiar to his first day. He sped up in anticipation of what awaited him.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The scream echoed, it's pitch abnormally high, around the open pitch.

By the screaming, he'd expected Marberry to be on the receiving end of the worse of the fight, but it turned out that Heckle was not finally getting the better of the girl. The Slytherin was screaming like a girl.

"Get off me you bloody harpy!"

"You take it back, and I will!"

"Take back that you're an ugly Mudblood? I shouldn't have to take back the truth."

"Fine! Don't!"

There was the sound of a fist hitting flesh.

"AHHHH!"

"Say you take it back!"

Gargling noise.

"Fight her, Heckle! She's just a little Gryffindor!"

"AHHHH!"

"Take. It. Back."

"Never!"

The same wet slap.

"AHHHH!"

Oliver parted the group circling the pair with ease, finding the petite Marberry slamming Heckle (who had at least six inches on her) into one of the school's walls at the center.

"Oi! Break it up!" he ordered, and, grimacing, Marberry backed up, letting Heckle collapse to the ground in a heap.

She turned on her heel, wiping sweat off her brow, not seeing Heckle suddenly raise and jump her from behind, pushing her to the ground and her face in the dirt.

Marberry used her elbows to flip herself, and thus Heckle, on their backs. The air knocked out of him, she used her left elbow to hit him in the stomach and a second later the right into his nose. When he let go of her neck to clutch his nose, she turned so she was on top of him again, and pummeled her fist into his mouth.

Although he was enjoying the familiar sight of blood spilling over Slytherin robes, Oliver decided that, as a teacher, he was going to have to pull them apart.

"Break it up," he repeated with less enthusiasm, and, by the neck of her robes, pulled Marberry off. He flashed back to his first lesson, and saw the same snarl crossing her face as it was now. He returned to the present as Marberry waved a bloody third finger at the groaning Heckle. "Die, Heckle!"

"I think he's already doing that," muttered Oliver just loud enough that she could hear, and shot her a wink. In a louder voice he continued, "All right, both of you report to my office tonight, seven o'clock."

He appointed the same tall Slytherin to escort Heckle to the infirmary, and sent Marberry off with one of her friends to the girls bathroom to wash off the Slytherin's blood.

"Alright, lesson's over," he said, deciding that he didn't want to deal with the students now. "Back to your common rooms. Go on, then."

Unable to believe their good luck, the first years scurried off to their respective common rooms, whispering about the fight. He knew that it would be over the school in an hour. Now having to come up with a detention, Oliver walked in the direction of his office.

He was starting to regret his actions of the night before, in the library, and was seriously debating whether or not to throw himself off the top of the Astronomy Tower.

"Dammit," he said softly, rubbing his eyes. Maybe a few laps around the pitch would clear his mind.

"Professor?"

"What the bloody hell do you want?" he snarled, whipping around, and regretting it. "Sorry. Can I help you?"

"Oh," the figure laughed. "Yes, yes you could."

The person in front of him raised their wand, and said clearly, "Suvrex Oublis."

Oliver froze. He wondered for a second why the person was saying this spell – it made the recipient follow orders without remembering the caster – and a cold knot in his stomach formed when he realized that it was meant for him.

Then the bolt of yellow light hit him, spreading through his veins.

"Find your sister." It was whispered. "Bring her back here."

Concluding that they could do nothing, the Trio went to bed at two, and woke up five hours later, cranky.

Not feeling up to the challenge of Malfoy, Hermione slept in her old bed in the girl's dormitory. When she awoke, Lavender and Parvati were staring at her.

"What are you doing here?" asked Lavender, not fully recovered from the Won-Won break-up.

"Shove it," mumbled Hermione, getting out of the bed and going down into the common room to Floo to her bedroom.

Harry, Hermione and Ron met again in the Great Hall over dry toast, oatmeal, and fatty acids.

"What are we going to do?" asked Ron, shoveling a eggs, bacon and cheese into his mouth. Hermione grimaced, and took a delicate bite of her toast.

"Well," she said once she had finished chewing, "There's not much I can do today. I have classes all day."

"Tonight then," decided Harry, spooning up some oatmeal.

The only class of the day that they shared was Potions, before lunch. Harry and Ron came from a free period, and Hermione came from Arithmancy.

She came into the classroom trying to take out her Potions book without letting any of the others fall out. Harry and Ron were already there, sitting next to each other, forcing her to sit with Terry Boot.

Annoyed, she forced a brief smile to Terry, and finally succeeded at taking out her Potions text.

It was ten minutes into the period before they realized anything was wrong – they were missing Snape. "Where is he?" whispered Ron across the table to Hermione, incorrectly assuming that she would know everything, as per usual.

"How should I know?" she whispered back.

"Sorry," he replied, not looking at all very apologetic.

After another five minutes of terse silence, as everyone wondered what happened to their greasy teacher, the door opened . . . to reveal Professor Every.

Her black hair was pulled back today, in a green clip, and she moved to the teacher's desk at the front of the room. "Hello, class," she said, turning to face them. "Unfortunately, Professor Snape found himself unable to attend his class. For today, I'll be standing in for him."

Although the class did not vocally burst into cheers, the tension lightened quite a bit.

"We'll be making Doxy Vanquishing Potions today," continued Every, turning to the board and scribbling a loopy hand the ingredients. "I know it's a bit complicated, but it's about the only potion I know how to make."

There was scattered laughter.

"And seeing as you all are a NEWT class, I figured it's be good practice."

The class spent the rest of the period making their best attempt at the complicated potion Every had chosen. Not surprisingly, Hermione did the best. An hour later she happily finished stirring her potion, having produced the correct turquoise color and wispy texture.

"Perfect," announced Every, wandering up to their table. "If you just spoon some up and put the flask on Professor Snape's desk, you can clean up." Hermione complied, and spent the remainder of her time chopping up Harry's mericander root and showing Ron how he was not stirring properly.

They left the dungeons and entered the Great Hall in silence. Once they had sat down and chosen their food, Harry asked, "Tonight, before or after Astronomy?"

Hermione thoughtfully finished her a bite of her beer-battered fish, and replied, "After dinner, before Astronomy."

For once, Ron didn't talk with his mouth full. He nodded.

"Good," decided Hermione.

After dinner they lingered in the Great Hall, waiting until most of the students had left. Hermione, with her Head Girl privileges, disappeared into the Hufflepuff dormitories. Ron and Harry took the map and the Invisibility Cloak to the Trophy Room to stake out the cup.

Striding off with certainty that she didn't feel, Hermione turned a corner and Harry and Ron vanished.

Up ahead, she saw Every walking into her office. Pausing, Hermione slipped behind a suit of armor. She heard the door lock, and then carefully peeked around the helmet.

The professor was nowhere to be seen, and her office door was closed.

Hermione quietly ran past it, and turned three more corners before she found the Hufflepuff dormitories.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she said the password (Norgu) and stepped into the Hufflepuff common room. It was full of Hufflepuffs. All conversation halted.

"Is Rose Wood here?" she asked.

There was silence, and she repeated her question.

Still no answer. She had begun to debate whether or not to threaten them all with detentions and loss of house points when she got her answer. "She left with her brother a couple minutes ago," replied a blonde girl reading Witch Weekly.

"Thanks," said Hermione, then left.

Something was wrong here.

She took a differently path to the Trophy Room, not wanting to see Every, and found Harry and Ron running towards her.

"Hermione!" Harry yelled. She shushed him, and the three met in the middle of the corridor.

"The cup . . ." panted Ron. "It's . . . gone . . ."

"Rose too," replied Hermione. "Something was up. No one would tell me where she was. They said that she left with her brother when they got back from dinner."

"You don't think that Wood has something to do with this, do you?" asked Harry, shocked.

Hermione thought about it. "No, I don't. But it's a possibility we have to think of."

"I agree," said Ron. "No way it was Wood – but still, she would've known if it was Polyjuice, wouldn't she?"

"Malfoy didn't know in second year," pointed out Harry.

"Yeah, well, Malfoy's never been the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree," replied Hermione. "I get the impression Rose was at least slightly more intelligent."

"Still, someone must've gotten to Rose before we did," said Ron, "and gotten her to take the cup, because it is most definitely not there."

"Did you check the map?" asked Hermione.

"No," said Harry, taking it out of his bag. "We didn't think of that."

Seconds later the map was being frantically searched. They ignored the Trophy Room, which was flashing red like crazy, and finally Hermione found Rose and Oliver in a third floor corridor. "Oh my god," she said, pointing. "They're parallel to us!"

The two dots were still, a blinking red dot labeled Hufflepuff's Cup between them. Harry folded the map in a half-hazard fashion, creating new creases, and the three ran at full speed, wands out, to the corridor holding them.

They turned the finally corner wands outstretched, and found two dazed-looking siblings, sitting on the ground. Hufflepuff's cup was sitting between them.

"Don't move!" screamed Harry.

Behind them, Hermione could see two shadows advancing around the corner, one tale and male-looking, one shorter and definitely female. They froze at Harry's voice, then retreated.

She sprinted past Oliver and Rose, and swung around the corner. The long corridor was empty of both life and doors.

Sighing, she returned to Harry and Ron, who had their wands pointed at Oliver and Rose. Behind them, Hermione tapped Oliver on the head with her wand. A small sliver of grey smoke rose from his head.

"He's been bespelled with Suvrex Oublis," she said. Then she moved onto Rose, who produced the same wisp of grey smoke.

"Her too."

"I thought you said she couldn't be forced."

"Suvrex Oublis doesn't produce the same effect. I should've thought of that." Hermione stepped around the siblings, and, carefully, tapped the cup with her wand. No acid or puffs of smoke appeared.

"I think that Harry should take it," she decided.

"What about them?"

She turned to the dazed siblings.

"We can levitate them to their rooms, and they'll wake up the next morning without ever knowing what happened."

They did so, and Harry reached for the cup. His hand paused for a minute, hovering over the cup, then he forced his hand to the handle of the cup.

Nothing happened.

"I wonder who did this," said Harry, lifting the surprisingly light cup.

Hermione grabbed his bag off the floor. "Wouldn't we like to know."

Please, review. Think of me, snowed in by this huge storm, and without any reviews . . . .