The days following the attack on Mrs. Norris were a trying time for Ron. He tried with Harry's help to keep an eye on Ginny, who was as difficult to track as before. Whenever they ran into her, though, she seemed to be acting perfectly normally. The boys could not decide what to make of her, and more importantly, what, if anything, to do about her.
What made matters worse was that Hermione was not being very helpful. She already spent a lot of time reading normally, but now she was doing almost nothing else, obsessed as she was with whatever she was trying to find in the library books. Her only suggestion was to go to McGonagall, which Ron did not find overly helpful.
"Has she gone bonkers?" Ron complained to Harry later on. "I can't report my little sister to a professor!"
"I don't think Hermione meant it like that," Harry tried to defend her. "I mean, if you're worried about Ginny – if you think she's not well – then you could maybe ask, er, well, maybe, Madam Pomfrey—"
"And tell her what? That Ginny seemed maybe, possibly, a bit out of sorts a couple times, and that she was a little rude to Hermione?" He threw his arms up in the air, almost as frustrated as he was worried.
Harry did not argue. And what could he say? Mentioning how his scar had hurt both times would sound like an accusation. In the end, all the boys could think to do was to ask Percy again to keep an eye on her – however useless a thing Ron thought that to be…
But later that day, Harry left Ron to track down Hermione, who was once again in the library.
"I'm going to the owlery, to send a letter to Sirius," he said, unsure how to begin.
Hermione looked up from the book she was browsing through, to look at Harry quizzically.
"I'm thinking about telling him about Ginny… He might know if there's a reason to worry… Right?" Harry felt uncomfortable, discussing Ron's business with Hermione behind their friend's back, but he could not think of a better solution.
Hermione closed her book slowly. "Will you tell him about your scar hurting?" she asked carefully. "I think you should," she went on quickly, seeing Harry's hesitant expression. "I think… Oh, will he know what that means?"
"Er, well, I'm not really sure what it means myself, do I? So, as much as I know, I guess. But… But it's Ron's sister…"
Hermione looked down. "I know. But, Harry, she wasn't anything like that when I met her at the Burrow. She seemed so – so friendly. And normal. And if even I can notice how she's changed – Well, what if she's in trouble? If Ron won't talk to a teacher, we have to at least tell an adult." She paused, as an idea occurred to her. "Do you think you could talk Ron into writing to his parents?"
Harry shook his head. "I don't know. He won't say anything about what happened to Ginny. No suspicions, no guesses. All he'll say is that she looks pale, or – or ill, when we manage to spot her every now and then. And I don't want to…"
Hermione nodded, grimacing. "You don't want to accuse her of anything, of course. Well, let's see if Sirius can think of something, then."
~HP~
A couple days after that, Hermione asked Professor Binns to tell her about the Chamber of Secrets, hoping he would know more than she remembered having read in Hogwarts, A History – which she had been forced to leave back home, as her Lockhart books took up all the space in her trunk.
After the end of that class, Harry, Ron and Hermione went to the corridor where Mrs. Norris had been petrified, to look for some clues. They found scorch marks and spiders fleeing through a small crack – much to Ron's horror, and his friends' amusement. They also figured out where the water had come from: the out-of-order girls' bathroom right next to the wall with the still visible writing on it.
Hermione knew that Moaning Myrtle lived there and thought it might be a good idea to question her. The boys followed her reluctantly. That did not go so well. Moaning Myrtle did not tell them anything useful, and as they were leaving the toilet, Percy spotted them from the head of the stairs.
"That's a girls' bathroom!" he gasped, a look of complete shock on his face. "What were you—?"
"Just having a look around," Ron shrugged. "Clues, you know—"
Percy swelled in a manner that reminded Harry forcefully of Mrs. Weasley.
"Get – away – from – there—" Perry said, striding toward them and starting to bustle them along, flapping his arms. "Don't you care what this looks like? Coming back here while everyone's at dinner—"
"Why shouldn't we be here?" said Ron hotly, stopping short and glaring at Percy. "Listen, we never laid a finger on that cat!"
Harry was tempted to say something similar. He was becoming tired of people avoiding him and whispering behind his back. First Justin Finch-Fletchley, who had turned around and walked in the opposite direction the last time he had run into Harry, and then of course Colin, a few hours ago, who had been only too eager to tell Harry how many people he had heard accusing him of being the Heir of Slytherin.
"That's what I told Ginny," said Percy fiercely, "but she still seems to think you're going to be expelled. I've never seen her so upset, crying her eyes out. You might think of her, all the first years are thoroughly overexcited by this business—"
Harry saw Hermione's eyes widen. At her reaction, his mind went back to what Percy had just said. It was indeed odd, for Ginny to be so sure they would get in trouble, when clearly the professors had not punished them.
"You don't care about Ginny," said Ron, whose ears were now reddening. "You're just worried I'm going to mess up your chances of being Head Boy—"
"Five points from Gryffindor!" Percy said tersely, fingering his prefect badge. "And I hope it teaches you a lesson! No more detective work, or I'll write to Mum!" And he strode off, the back of his neck as red as Ron's ears.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione chose seats as far as possible from Percy in the common room that night. Harry had finally received a reply from Sirius, which all three of them were eager to read. He ripped the envelope open hastily, as his friends cluttered around him.
Dear Harry,
I don't even know where to begin. And I used to think my school years were tough – leading up to a war, and all. But yours really take the cake. This'll have to be a serious letter, I'm afraid. (No pun intended.)
I suppose that's one way to let me know to get on with my end of business, anyway. I wish I could tell you I had everything sorted out already, and I could (Something was scratched out and the sentence remained unfinished.)
Anyway, I'll do what I can for now.
First, what you said about Ginny's odd behaviour: Ron can be trusted to know his sister, of course, but even if her behaviour worries him, it is still possible that there's nothing wrong. A drastic change like coming to Hogwarts could have affected her.
What you said about your scar, though—
Harry looked up from the letter, turning contrite eyes towards Ron. He should have known writing Sirius about that was bound to get back to Ron. "The bit about my scar – I thought it hurt when Ginny, er—"
Ron was more surprised about Harry's reaction. "Of course your scar hurt. Both times. I noticed." He looked towards Hermione, to confirm that she had as well. His shoulders drooped and he scowled. "That's really the worst part, isn't it?" he asked his friends.
Hermione nodded gently. Ron had finally acknowledged that Ginny was involved in something, rather than merely unwell.
Harry cleared his throat. "So, let's see what Sirius has to say," he said, directing attention back to the letter.
What you said about your scar, though, worries me a little. You told me it used to hurt sometimes when you were around Quirrel – but not always. It might be a sort of warning from the type of dark magic that left the scar. I'm just guessing here, of course, but if we try to work with that theory for now, and if we all agree that Ginny herself can't be using dark magic, what does that leave?
As far as I understood it, Ginny had short moments when she didn't quite seem herself, and did not remember afterwards what she had said. This suggests to me that she might be under the influence of someone else's magic. There are several spells and potions that can do such a thing. The most common would be the Confundus charm, I think. It is quite advanced and most certainly not taught at Hogwarts.
There is another spell – a curse with a somewhat similar effect. It's one of the darkest and most forbidden, and I hope I'm just being paranoid in even mentioning it—
"I know what he's talking about," said Ron, looking rather sick.
"What is it?" asked Hermione.
"The Imperius curse – one of the Unforgivables." Ron shook his head at his friends' blank, mildly curious faces. "It's one of those things that will land you in Azkaban right away, no questions asked."
The letter next moved on to the Chamber of Secrets. Sirius had written all the rumours he had heard about it, but Hermione had already found out more about it from Binns.
"Did you write Sirius what Ginny got so mad about at Hermione for? That Hermione noticed how she had been missing from the corridor when everyone else ran there to have a look at Mrs. Norris?" asked Ron. He looked a little green, and was bracing himself for the answer.
"Er, I didn't really focus on that," said Harry, not quite looking at him.
"Right. Right." Ron sat up, collecting his courage. "Well, that won't do. If someone's confounded her, we won't be any help if we just pretend we don't notice things. So what else?"
"Well…" began Hermione. "Well, I found it odd that Ginny would tell Percy she's worried we're going to get expelled."
Ron nodded. "Because she might know we're supposed to be framed?" he half-asked, half-stated very quietly.
His friends shrugged awkwardly.
"Who can it be, though?" asked Hermione in a quiet voice. "Who'd want to hurt her and frame us, and frighten all the squibs and muggle-borns out of Hogwarts?"
"Let's think," said Ron in mock puzzlement. "Who do we know who hates us enough and thinks muggle-borns are scum?" He looked at Hermione.
Hermione looked back, unconvinced. "If you're talking about Malfoy—"
"Of course I am!" said Ron. "You heard him – 'You'll be next, mudbloods!' Come on, you've only got to look at his foul rat face to know it's him—"
"Malfoy, the Heir of Slytherin?" said Hermione sceptically.
"Look at his family," said Harry. "The whole lot of them have been in Slytherin; he's always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin's descendants. His father's definitely evil enough."
"They could've had the key to the Chamber of Secrets for centuries!" said Ron. "Handing it down, father to son..."
"Well," said Hermione cautiously, "I suppose it's possible..."
"But how do we prove it?" said Harry darkly. "And what can we do about Ginny?"
"I'll have to read everything I can find about the Confundus charm. Harry, your Viridian book might have something about it – maybe even a counter-spell. Now, that really would help."
"I'll look it up this evening," promised Harry.
"And, maybe we could ask a teacher for help as well," Hermione said slowly, with a glance at Ron.
"We'll do that if we can't help her ourselves," Ron said after a pause. "I don't want her getting into trouble for something that isn't her fault. And we can't prove yet that Malfoy – or anyone, for that matter – has been cursing her. Harry and I never saw her with anyone suspicious."
"So how do we prove it?" Harry asked once again.
"There might be a way," said Hermione slowly, dropping her voice still further with a quick glance across the room at Percy. "Of course, it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We'd be breaking about fifty school rules, I expect—"
"If, in a month or so, you feel like explaining, you will let us know, won't you?" said Ron irritably.
"All right," said Hermione coldly. "What we'd need to do is to get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy a few questions without him realizing it's us."
"But that's impossible," Harry said as Ron laughed.
"No, it's not," said Hermione. "All we'd need would be some Polyjuice potion."
~HP~
Friday morning, a harassed-looking Hedwig returned with a thick envelope just as Harry had sat down for breakfast with his friends. He had Curses and Countercurses opened in front of him, to show Hermione the entry about the Confundus charm, when a thick letter landed on top of the page.
"It's from, er, Snuffles," Harry told his friends while he gave Hedwig food and drink to help her recover from her tiring journey. "I just wrote to him last night with our plans…"
He opened the envelope quickly, wondering what might be so important that Sirius would hurry Hedwig back with the news. To all their astonishment, there was not much news about either Ginny or the Chamber of Secrets, or even about Sirius' own situation. Instead, almost the entire letter was a gigantic rant on the topic of werewolves.
"You think he's cracked?" laughed Ron. "Living as a dog all the time can't have helped…"
"What's got into him? I just wrote that we've started reading Wandering with Werewolves in Lockhart's class. I was telling him about our plan to get Lockhart to sign the library form—" Harry almost whispered, with a glance at the students sitting and chatting around them.
"Let me have another look," said Hermione, as she took the letter.
"What exactly did you write?" said Ron. "He sounds like you hurt his canine feelings."
The boys giggled.
"I'm not sure. I just wrote how I'll probably have to act the part of the werewolf. And of course Lockhart will take his time until he, er, defeats me with the Homorphus charm. It's so annoying that we have to keep Lockhart in a good mood today and I can't refuse! I'm starting to think you were right about him, Ron. He's just trying to embarrass me." Harry jammed his porridge with his spoon, taking out his anger on it.
Hermione was looking straight at him when he looked up, and Harry braced himself for her to come to Lockhart's defence. Instead, she looked thoughtful.
"It's like Si- er, Snuffles, is really upset, but is trying not to show it," she said, referring to the letter. "Especially about the Homorphus charm. He writes that it's anything but a cure, that it usually – almost always – kills the werewolf. And there's so much more about werewolves in here – It's like a really well-researched essay, but he must have written it from memory. And a lot of it is… not…"
"He did say he was friends with a werewolf at school," Ron said very quietly. "He sounds like one of those werewolf rights people, to be honest. I wouldn't believe everything he's written."
Hermione frowned. "That might be, but the thing is, up until now, everything I believed about werewolves, I was taught by Quirrel."
The boys did a double-take at that.
~HP~
The lesson with Lockhart went exactly as predicted. Harry was hauled to the front of the class to act the part of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf. He had to endure being slammed into the floor and held down as Lockhart described the scene in detail. Having to enact the werewolf's piteous moan after he was subjected to the Homorphus charm added a whole new layer of anger after reading Sirius' letter.
Finally, the bell rang and Lockhart got to his feet. "Homework – compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!"
The class began to leave. Harry returned to the back of the room, where Ron and Hermione were waiting. They approached the front desk after everyone had left. Hermione spun Lockhart a tale of needing a book from the Restricted Section to better understand Gadding with Ghouls. Without really looking at it, Lockhart scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Hermione.
"So, Harry," said Lockhart, while Hermione folded the note with fumbling fingers and slipped it into her bag. "Tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin—"
"Er, Professor, I, maybe, had a little question," stammered Hermione.
"Yes?" said Lockhart, not entirely happy to be interrupted.
Hermione did not notice, still giddy that Lockhart had called her the best student of the year a moment ago. "I wanted to ask about today's lesson. So brave of you to face a werewolf and defeat him almost bare-handedly—"
"Yes, well…" Lockhart chuckled mock-humbly.
"But, I was wondering what happened to the, er, werewolf – after he turned back into a human, I mean."
"Oh! Why, he went back to his family, of course." Lockhart gave her one of his patented toothy grins.
"But wasn't he hurt? I mean, the Homorphus charm is very dangerous, and it's not forever, is it? It just reverses one transformation. What about the next full moon?"
Lockhart's smile had completely disappeared while Hermione kept asking questions, and he was beginning to regard her rather coolly. "You seem to be forgetting that werewolves are bloodthirsty monsters. This one, especially, let me tell you. For months, he terrorised that little village—"
"Right, of course he did," said Ron, while grabbing her arm. "Hermione just sometimes forgets the obvious—"
"Yes, don't you, Hermione?" said Harry as well, as he pulled at her other arm.
The boys dragged her out of the classroom before she could say anything else, together with the note in her bag. They almost ran to the library.
"I don't believe it! Who knows what happened to that werewolf!" ranted Hermione. "And we don't even know who he actually was, so we'll never find out. I didn't really think about it before, but of course he must have had a real name. Wagga Wagga Werewolf, really!"
"Well, we keep telling you, Lockhart's a brainless git!" said Ron, rather insensitively.
"He – he—" Hermione looked like she was about to sink in despair.
"Honestly!" Ron went on, without an ounce of tact.
"Ron—" Harry tried to interrupt, to no avail.
"I mean, what's it going to take for you to admit it?" asked Ron.
Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat. Her eyes were suspiciously bright, but she collected herself. "I still think we must have misunderstood—" She held up her hands to stop Ron from interrupting her. "But, if he really hurt someone – if he really hurts people when there are better ways, then he really is a – a…" She could not finish the thought.
Ron was still sceptical, but Harry nudged him, and he finally let it go.
Five minutes after getting Moste Potente Potions out of the library, they were barricaded in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, looking at the recipe for the Polyjuice potion.
"This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen. Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass," murmured Hermione, running her finger down the list of ingredients. "Well, they're easy enough, they're in the student store cupboard, we can help ourselves… Oooh, look, powdered horn of a bicorn – don't know where we're going to get that – shredded skin of a boomslang – that'll be tricky, too and of course a bit of whoever we want to change into."
"Excuse me?" said Ron sharply. "What d'you mean, a bit of whoever we're changing into? I'm drinking nothing with Crabbe's toenails in it—"
Hermione continued as though she had not heard him. "We don't have to worry about that yet, though, because we add those bits last…"
Ron turned, speechless, to Harry, who had another worry.
"D'you realize how much we're going to have to steal, Hermione? Shredded skin of a boomslang, that's definitely not in the students' cupboard. What're we going to do, break into Snape's private stores? I don't know if this is a good idea—" Harry held up his hands as Hermione snapped her book shut, ready to argue. "I'm not saying we shouldn't do it. We need to help Ginny any way we can. I'm just saying, we've been trying to stay on Snape's good side for so long now – difficult as it's been—"
"Yeah, and he's getting more confused around us by the day!" said Ron. "It would be a shame to just throw all that hard work away…"
Hermione huffed. "Well, any better ideas, then?"
"I don't know. Couldn't we mail-order them?" asked Harry. "It would take a little longer, I guess. We'd have to wait for the ingredients to arrive. How long does it take to brew, anyway?"
"Brilliant idea, Harry! I really should have thought of that, myself," grumbled Hermione. "And no, it won't take any longer. The fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have to be stewed for twenty-one days… So we'll need about a month, and we'll only need the ingredients we have to buy towards the end."
"A month?" said Ron. "Malfoy could have attacked half the muggleborns in the school by then!"
But Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously again, and he added swiftly, "But it's the best plan we have, so full steam ahead, I say."
Harry got his Viridian book out of his bag. "Well, we do have one other thing we can try to do." He opened the book to the entry about the Confundus charm as his friends gathered around him.
"I think we'll have to first learn the charm itself, before we can try the counter," said Hermione.
"Of course we do," sighed Ron. "How about you two try on me?" he asked hopefully.
"I can't believe you, Ron! How can you be so lazy? Even for your sister's sake—"
"Come on. We all know you'll get it first. It'll take forever if we have to wait for me to learn it!" said Ron.
Without too much complaining after that, Hermione got to work. She tried, and tried, and tried again to understand the spell and cast it, but nothing at all happened. Harry joined her a little later, because Hermione kept asking him if she was understanding the instructions correctly, anyway.
"Ron…" Hermione finally said quietly, after what felt like hours had passed. "I don't think we'll get it – at least today—" she amended, seeing Ron's crestfallen expression.
~HP~
Little did Hermione know that she was going to eat her words about Lockhart the very next day.
"Say it, Hermione," said Ron.
They were in the Hospital Wing after the quidditch match against Slytherin and Ron was helping Harry stuff his de-boned arm into the pyjama sleeve, while Hermione was on the other side of the curtain around Harry's bed.
There was a lengthy pause. "Fine, he's a stupid git," Hermione finally said. "Happy?" She sounded anything but.
"Getting there," Ron replied cheekily.
"Language, my dear," said Madam Pomfrey, as she came around the curtain, Skele-Gro in hand.
Hermione followed behind, wearing a put-out expression. The boys sniggered. She and Ron still had the rogue bludger to discuss with Harry, which had chased him around until it had managed to break his arm. If only Lockhart had not tried to 'help' him by vanishing all his bones in his arm, Harry thought angrily, as he forced down the vile-tasting potion.
"We won, though," said Ron, a grin breaking across his face. "That was some catch you made. Malfoy's face… he looked ready to kill!"
"I want to know how he fixed that bludger," said Hermione darkly.
There was no doubt in their minds that Malfoy had done it. The question was how to prove it. Not much could be discussed that day, though. The rest of the Gryffindor quidditch team turned up to visit Harry, which ended with Madam Pomfrey kicking everyone out of the hospital wing, leaving Harry with nothing to distract him from the pain.
~HP~
Severus met Minerva and Albus outside of the hospital wing. He was dressed in his usual black robes, despite the late hour. His older colleagues, on the other hand, were both wearing long dressing gowns, and Albus was even sporting a nightcap.
"You heard, then?" the headmaster asked gravely, without a trace of a twinkle in his eyes.
"I… I was still awake, and heard the portraits whispering. What is going on?"
Albus turned towards the staircase, to lead the way away from the hospital wing. "There was another attack. A student, this time—"
"Colin Creevey, one of my first-years," said Minerva. "I found him on the stairs. Poor boy – must have been trying to visit Potter, and now he's been petrified, and will have to remain so for months—"
"Potter again. He does seem to crop up, doesn't he?"
"Severus—" said Albus, before Minerva could get angry. "You don't believe any more than we do that Harry had anything to do with any of this—"
"Especially today – he's injured himself, in case you forgot," said Minerva. "All thanks to his, er, favourite teacher."
Severus did, in fact, remember. He also remembered his misguided idea that Potter would be fond of Lockhart's style of teaching – Minerva always felt an unholy glee when she reminded him of that. "There was that business with the bludger, though – on the very day that another attack happened," he said instead slyly.
"Hardly a point in your favour, if Harry himself is a target of an attack," Albus pointed out reasonably. He slowed down as they reached the corridor leading to the headmaster's quarters.
Severus did not answer as they parted ways. He headed back to his chambers, unsettled. There was something very odd going on with Potter and his friends, that much he knew. All the strange events since the beginning of the year had centred around them. It was a shame that he had not been allowed to interrogate them properly after the attack on Filch's cat. Albus had insisted on letting them go after a measly few questions, half of which they had not answered truthfully, Severus was convinced.
There had been another reason why he was dissatisfied with his questioning of the Troublesome Trio, as he thought of them, much as he hated to admit it even to himself. He could have been harsher, he should have demanded that they be punished until they talked – Potter would crack soon enough if he was taken off the quidditch team, he was sure. However, he had not been able to even make the demand (though Albus would probably have vetoed it anyway).
Why? Because Potter and his friends had looked at him with hopeful eyes. Stuck in Lockhart's office, with Minerva, Albus, Filch and himself, their eyes had strayed to him as soon as Filch had demanded they be questioned. And that was not all. Ever since sparing Weasley for cursing Draco, they had developed this – very disturbing – lack of hatred for him. It was unnatural how – almost – well-behaved they were in his class.
No, letting Weasley get away with cursing Draco had not been one of his better ideas. And all for a rather sentimental reason – the situation had really nothing in common with the one it had reminded him of. But in that moment… Well, he had paid for that bit of foolishness. Lucius had not been impressed, of course, and it had taken all of Severus' persuasive skills to convince the elder Malfoys that he could not have acted differently. He still was not convinced that Lucius believed him.
And then the Troublesome Trio thinking he would turn a blind eye on whatever mischief they were concocting. As if. It was high time he started properly investigating their comings and goings.
~HP~
The trio in question had more serious problems to deal with at that time than Snape's paranoia. As soon as he left the hospital wing on Sunday morning, Harry tracked down his friends in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. They had overheard Professor McGonagall tell Professor Flitwick about Colin that morning and had already begun brewing the Polyjuice potion. Harry still had more news for them, though, as Dobby had visited him the night before, and had dropped some very interesting bits of information.
"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened before?" Hermione said.
"This settles it," said Ron in a triumphant voice. "Lucius Malfoy must've opened the Chamber when he was at school here and now he's told dear old Draco how to do it. It's obvious. Wish Dobby'd told you what kind of monster's in there, though. I want to know how come nobody's noticed it sneaking around the school."
"Maybe it can make itself invisible," said Hermione, prodding leeches to the bottom of the cauldron. "Or maybe it can disguise itself – pretend to be a suit of armour or something – I've read about Chameleon Ghouls—"
"You read too much, Hermione," said Ron, pouring dead lacewings on top of the leeches. He crumpled up the empty lacewing bag and looked at Harry.
"So Dobby stopped us from getting on the train and broke your arm." He shook his head. "You know what, Harry? If he doesn't stop trying to save your life, he's going to kill you."
As soon as they were done tending to the potion, they were back to working on the Confundus charm. Hours later, they had failed to make any more progress than during their first attempt. The unspoken fear – that the spell was far too difficult for them, no matter how much they worked on it – crept in, muting them all. Harry and Hermione knew the sensible next step – convincing Ron to ask adults for help – and dreaded it.
"Let's stop again – for today," Hermione finally said after she had exhausted herself.
Harry had a raging headache at that point and stopping for the day sounded like the best idea he had heard in a while, but Ron looked far more disheartened than he had after their first attempt. "All right, let's try one final time," he still suggested valiantly, for Ron's sake.
Exhausted, he and Hermione lifted their wands once more. "Confundo!" they shouted once more – this time simultaneously, quite by chance.
Ron gave a little start as the spells hit him. His eyes unfocused, and his expression went blank. Hermione gasped and turned to an equally surprised Harry.
"Did it work?" she asked.
Harry opened his mouth to answer, but Hermione was not watching him. She dived for Curses and Countercurses, but before she could read anything, Ron gasped. He visibly shook himself and took a half-step back.
"What… What happened?" he asked, dazed.
Harry and Hermione performed a mad little dance around him, shouting, "It worked! It worked!", until Ron laughed in relief and joined them.
~HP~
The news that Colin Creevey had been attacked spread through the entire school by Monday morning. Rumours and suspicions were flying around, and a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school. The first years were now moving around the castle in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone.
It was Ginny's reaction Harry and his friends were most interested in. Unsurprisingly, she was distraught, but they could not learn anything about where she had been at the time of the attack. All they could find out was that she sat next to Colin Creevey in charms.
Ginny's other brothers had also noticed that she was distraught, but Harry felt that Fred and George were going the wrong way about cheering her up. They were taking turns covering themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from behind statues. They only stopped when Percy, apoplectic with rage, told them he was going to write to Mrs. Weasley and tell her Ginny was having nightmares.
Ron wanted to confront her right away, but Hermione stopped him. Instead, for almost a couple of weeks, they spent every free minute they had perfecting the counter to the Confundus charm. This went for Ron as well, because now Hermione was convinced that their counter would be strongest if they all cast it together. Ron whined a little, but for his sister's sake he had to go along with it. Friday afternoon, Hermione finally deemed them ready.
They had to wait until dinner that evening. Ginny sat a little distance away from them, closer to Percy. She was writing in a leather-bound book, not paying too much attention to the other first-years around her – or even the food in front of her. Hermione followed her out of the Great Hall when she left.
"Ginny, wait a second," she said and hurried to catch up as the younger girl turned around. "I need to, er, go to the little girls' room, but I didn't want to go alone – what with me being a muggleborn..."
"Oh, sure, I'll come along," said Ginny. Her eyes remained clear, Hermione was happy to notice.
It was lucky that Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was located just above the Great Hall, and therefore the closest girls' bathroom from where they were. Ginny, her head buried in her book, followed behind without paying attention to where they were headed – until they reached the corridor where Mrs. Norris had been petrified. There she stopped, taken aback.
"Why…" she began to say, shooting Hermione an accusatory glance. Then her face went slack. "Strange place to come to, if you're afraid of the attacks," she said calmly, coldly.
Hermione's eyes slid over the space inconspicuously, not knowing where the boys were exactly, as they were hidden under Harry's invisibility cloak, but still trying to give them a sign to be ready. Harry and Ron, who were only a few feet away, drew their wands.
Ginny had her wand drawn in an instant. She looked around more boldly, not trying to hide what she was doing. A subtle wand movement later, her eyes settled on the spot between Harry and Ron, as if the cloak was not there at all. She smiled – an unnatural, mature expression on her childish features.
The boys threw off the cloak, facing her.
"Now!" said Hermione, and all three of them cast the spell.
For one moment, they were sure it would work, as Ginny recoiled from their attack with a shout. But the next moment, she had straightened up and a barrier shimmered between her and them. Without speaking, she cast spells to repel them, sending them sprawling on the floor. A moment later, none of them could move. She regarded them with a sneer, looking down at them.
"Interfering little pests. Really, I should have dealt with you all a lot sooner." She pointed her wand at Harry. "You most of all—" she began to say, but stopped.
The next moment, they all heard the footsteps coming closer. Ginny took off the spells she had cast on them and fled. Before Harry, Ron and Hermione had managed to get up from the floor and straighten their dishevelled appearance, Lockhart strolled down the corridor. The boys had never been so happy to see him, perverse as that was.
"Harry, Harry," said Lockhart. "You really ought to know better by now. Coming to this corridor of all places, and close to curfew. Really, young man, what sort of impression is that going to leave? Now, I know of course that there's no truth in those vicious rumours, but I hope you're not trying to disprove them by trying to play the hero—"
Lockhart went on in a similar fashion, as he led them back towards the great hall. Some of the teachers were still there, including Snape, who was being held up by Dumbledore. Harry was sure he must have heard at least some of what Lockhart had been telling them, as his suspicious eyes followed them all the way across the hall.
They kept walking and did not stop until they reached the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Then Hermione slowed down, until the boys halted as well.
"What are we going to do now?" she said.