Author's Note: Quod Erat Demonstrandum means as was to be demonstrated. It's what you're supposed to write at the end of a trigonometric proof, but is normally written as QED. It goes without saying that only the most pompous of people would ever use it in normal language.
XOXOXOX
The rat animagus, Scabbers the murderer, was evaluating her from his perched on her beloved Ron's shoulder. She was quite sure what he was thinking. Was she a threat? Could she expose him? Was it wiser to kill her and risk exposing himself or let her continue her investigation? To answer these propositions Scabbers simply had to ascertain the solution to a simple question- did she know?
Oh, how tremendously exciting! Hermione's heart was aflutter. So much danger, so much possibility! Fool the killer and she would earn Ron's undying gratitude and more importantly- a nice, shiny award. Expose her knowledge and Ron, Ginny, Harry, and her would all be quite dead by the end of the night.
She was ever so glad she'd insisted on coming to Hogwarts!
Hermione's stomach churned pleasantly. Oh she felt quite like vomiting. How delightful! She'd do her best to convince Scabbers that killing her was unwise. Hermione cleared her throat and gathered all her cleverness as she began her delightful deception. In a voice that was just a bit too loud, she said, "All the options we've discu-"
"Shh!" Madam Pince scolded, flying in like a vulture. "Quiet in the library. And put those books away."
Hermione whined. "But Madam Pince, this is really important!"
"Out, all of you!" Madam Pince snapped, piling the books in her arm, and taking a brief look at the notes Ginny had transcribed. The librarian huffed indignantly, sounding rather like Mum when Hermione indulged in scientific papers that hadn't even been peer-reviewed. "My books aren't to be used to analyze anything as low-class and pulpy as mystery novels, they're for your studies or proper literature- like literary fiction. First years get worse every year. No respect for the rules. No respect for authority. Reading such low-brow filth."
And so they were chased out of the library. They searched for an empty classroom to continue their investigation, Scabbers stared at Hermione the entire way. Was he just waiting to kill them? Should she suggest finding a professor? No. Professor Snape had intimated that one of the professors was untrustworthy, and more importantly- if Scabbers felt he was in any danger he'd just kill them all, potential hallway witnesses or no- it had been risky enough taking that chance with Madam Pince. There was no way he was letting Hermione out of his sight, not without some convincing.
"As I was saying, if we look into Harry's suggestion- how the killer got into Madam Pomfrey's office- things become clear," Hermione announced when they'd found a classroom, standing on a podium like a pompous teacher and doing her best to sound pleased with herself. It was really very easy, she just had to talk as she normally did- not that she was arrogant of course. It was simply that many of her ideas were quite clever. "It is as Professor Snape suggested. There is no killer. All the options we looked into are infeasible. Besides, there is no possible motive for killing Madam Pomfrey. Professor Snape's explanation works by far the best. What we witnessed was simply an unfortunate accident. We shan't chase a killer just because it's exciting. "
Scabbers tilted his head. Ron seemed satisfied.
Harry looked puzzled. "But then what about the green light? We know someone used avada kedavra."
"Mere speculation," Hermione said dismissively. "I was just humoring you and going along with it because I felt that Ron needed some success to cheer him up- he was looking rather pathetic. But it's far more likely that Madam Pomfrey simply made a mistake in her experiment."
"Sod it. Of course I was wrong. Why did I think I could be a detective?" Ron said, sounding disgusted with himself. Hermione could have sworn that Scabbers patted his shoulder sympathetically.
She hated to see Ronald in such a state. She'd actually been quite impressed with him and Harry. But Hermione was doing this for his own good.
"But why are you ruling out the Disillusionment Charm?" Asked the irritatingly clever Harry Potter. "The killer could have snuck in, killed Madam Pomfrey, and snuck out."
Hermione chewed her lip. "I suppose it is possible," she allowed, unable to think of a convincing reason such a deed would be implausible. "But it's ever so unlikely. Honestly! Why do the three of you keep questioning me? The solution is obvious! Madam Pomfrey killed herself in an experiment, there is no killer. Nobody could have gotten in the room, nobody could have escaped the room without our notice, nobody even had a motive to kill her in the first place! Quod erat demonstrandum: There is no killer, Madam Pomfrey killed herself! And anyone who disagrees is a complete dunderhead."
"Why are you being so defensive about this?" Harry asked.
"Because it's obvious," Hermione said shrilly. "But I suppose you have to be at least a little clever to see it. Not like you three. Dunces! Idiots! I've led you by the nose through every step of the investigation and now you're questioning my conclusions?"
"Maybe we're not geniuses like you!" Ginny snapped. "But I'll think for myself thank you very much! Harry, Ron, let's go- we've got a killer to catch." She smirked superiorly. "Hermione's clearly lost her nerve."
Harry hesitated, shooting Hermione a disappointed glance, then followed after Ginny.
No, no, that wouldn't do at all!
"You're wasting your time you dunderheads," Hermione screamed after them. "I'll even buy you some new textbooks if you can ever even manage to tell me why I realized that all the ideas I came up with are implausible. Maybe then you'll be able to keep up with me in even a single class, a single blasted lesson!"
Hermione huffed, as she felt the weight of a pair of beady eyes evaluating her performance's authenticity. She had to be angry and indignant- if she acted like she was about to be murdered she would be.
Ron raised an eyebrow. He stayed in the classroom, petting Scabbers. Hermione wasn't quite sure what he was doing. Why hadn't he followed after Ginny? She supposed her Ronnie was rather humble, perhaps even too much, but he couldn't possibly have taken the horrid things she'd said about him to heart, could he?
Ron ruffled Scabbers ears, and fed him a few treats, seemingly content to play with his rat and ignore Hermione altogether.
"C'mon, I'll walk you to your common room," said Ron at last, letting Scabbers jump onto his shoulder. "I reckon you're a little jumpy- what with everything that happened and all."
Hermione blushed and let Ron walk her down to the dungeons. Scabbers hadn't killed them yet, which probably meant he wasn't going to. Hopefully nothing came from Ginny and Harry's investigation.
"Will you be okay?" Hermione asked her knight in shining armor, once she was safely in the Slytherin Dungeons.
Ron snorted. "I'm too much of a dunce to be scared. Too much of an idiot. A true dunderhead, isn't that right?" Hermione winced at every word. "I reckon Ginny can be downright annoying sometimes- and I don't know why you were trying to make her feel terrible- maybe there's some reason only a genius can understand- but to an idiot like me, it just seemed really rotten. I'm only giving you this warning because you're a girl. If you insult my sister again, I'll hex you."
Ron pet Scabbers again, and left the dungeon, disappearing around a corridor. Once he was out of sight, Hermione softly murmured, "Stay safe Ron."
That night she felt a pair of black beady eyes on her as she tried to sleep. Scabbers had snuck into the Slytherin Girls Dormitory. He didn't murder her though, he just watched her as she slept. The next morning, when she awoke, the rat was gone.
XOXOXOX
Ginny glumly picked at her scrambled eggs, sitting alone at the Slytherin Table. She and Harry had continued their investigation for hours yesterday, but they hadn't been able to come up with anything new. It had been hard to find books that were relevant to what they were looking for- anything to give them an idea of how the killer had snuck into Hogwarts in the first place. They could've asked Madam Pince for help, but even Ginny knew that that'd be a bad idea if there actually was a killer.
Even Ginny? Since when had Ginny started acting like her stupid brother Ron? It was just- just, next to Hermione- but Hermione wasn't so great, Ginny reminded herself. While Hermione was okay at spells and books, she could be just as stupid as anyone else. The Great Hermione Granger, in all her bookish wisdom, had put her faith in Snivellus (the nickname Ginny had given Snape- she wished she had someone to share it with). Little Miss Perfect really thought that the school would claim Madam Pomfrey's death was an accident to keep the killer complacent. Little Miss Perfect really thought that the great Albus Dumbledore would seal the school. Hermione didn't really understand the magical world yet. She thought that just because Snivellus was a professor he could do no wrong. Ginny knew better. Snivellus was a git. Snivellus was in league with the killer, just like Harry thought. Also, Dad said Albus Dumbledore was a great man, so he'd never go along with Snivellus's nefarious plans.
Dumbledore stood. "I have sad news," the great man whispered softly, although his voice rang through the Great Hall. "Yesterday Poppy Pomfrey passed away. She had been experimenting with a muggle drug called anesthesia and comparing it to the common sleeping draught, somehow the two drugs mixed inside her, creating a lethal poison. Professor Snape was the first to find her. We will hold her funeral next Wednesday. In accordance with her wishes, there will be no mail in or out of Hogwarts until the properties of the poison which killed her have been analyzed."
The Great Hall exploded.
"No mail," Malfoy screamed. "Unacceptable! My father will hear of thi-" He paled and trembled in rage. Many students shared his sentiments.
Others, like Fred and George, looked devastated. They were… crying? It didn't seem right, she'd never seen anyone cry but Ron, the Twins were supposed to smile. Why couldn't she be sitting there with them? Comforting them. Why couldn't she have been sorted into Gryffindor? Ginny's lips wobbled. Hogwarts was supposed to be fun! She'd thought she'd be a star quidditch player like Charlie, or be as popular as Fred and George, or be the best in her class like Percy and Bill. But after she'd been sorted into Slytherin she'd realized she had to be better than any of her brothers to make up for it. Otherwise she'd be like Ron. If only she'd been born a few weeks later, in August instead of the end of July, then she'd still be back home with Mum instead of dragging her family name through the mud. The closest Ginny had even managed to a friend was Hermio-
Ginny twitched. The school was sealed. Dumbledore was a rotten liar. Little Miss Perfect was right again. She was always right. Why was Ginny even bothering to compete with her? She just wanted Harry to be happy, he'd grown up all alone, and it was obvious that he deserved to be with the brightest witch of their year. Well no matter how much she wished it, that wasn't her. If Ginny really cared about Harry, she ought to step aside, and-
Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes met hers. And then he shook his head slightly. His gaze moved on quickly, and he repeated the process with Hermione. Then Ron. Then Harry.
Why? If there had been no murderer, if it was all just an accident, then why would Dumbledore tell them to stop investigating? It didn't make any sense.
Hermione may have been smart, Hermione may have been brilliant, but she was wrong about this one. This was no accident. Ginny would keep investigating. She'd find the murderer. She'd prove herself smarter than that scarlet woman. Ginny pushed her plate of half-eaten eggs into the middle of the table. She wasn't hungry.
"Ginny," Hermione called, "we're going to work on our transfiguration homework after this. Care to join us?"
Pansy Parkinson was twitching and Millicent Bulstrode looked like she'd swallowed a slug, but they'd put up with Ginny if it meant they could copy Hermione's essay. She'd never be friends with those two. On the other hand, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis seemed open enough. If Ginny accepted the offer, maybe she could finally make some friends. Be a true Slytherin.
"No thanks," Ginny said airily. "I'm off to do some research with Harry Potter. You lot aren't invited."
She stuck out her tongue, and took a few steps towards the Gryffindor Table.
"I don't think you should be alone right now," said Hermione, her voice full of concern, without even a trace of jealousy.
Ginny kept walking as if she hadn't heard her. Ignoring the doubts in her head, which insisted that the reasons she so very much desired to continue the investigation were anything but pure. Maybe she just wanted to be alone with Harry Potter. Or just… Somebody. Maybe she wanted the credit. Maybe she needed the credit.
Why Slytherin?
She walked up to Harry boldly, ignoring Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan's gawking. "Le-let's g-go to th-the library," Ginny stuttered. Since when had she stuttered? "I've be-been thinking that, uh, th-that maybe a polyjui-"
"Can we talk about this somewhere else?" Harry asked quickly.
"Oooh," said Dean and Seamus, until Ron shut them up with a proper smacking. She flashed her favorite brother a grateful smile. Scabbers jumped onto her cloak as the two of them left the Great Hall.
Hermione looked shaken for the first time, seeing Ginny and Harry leave together, and Ginny couldn't help but smirk. She even pretended not to notice the scarlet woman following after them like a total creep.
"We should stop investigating," said Harry, once they were alone. "Hermione told me to drop it. Dumbledore told me to drop it. That's the brightest witch in our year and the brightest wizard in the entire world. Maybe there is a killer, but there has to be a reason those two told us to stop looking for him."
"Maybe they're both evil," said Ginny, sounding petulant, even to herself.
"I don't think so," said Harry, blushing. "I've been around bad people before. I don't know about Dumbledore, but I've seen enough of Hermione to know she's a good person. She wouldn't tell us to stop unless there was a good reason to stop investigating a killer that's hiding somewhere in Hogwarts."
Ginny couldn't even deny Harry's reasoning.
"So you're quitting?" Ginny asked bitterly. "Just because Hermione Granger told you to? You're gonna let a bloody murderer go free because some insufferable know-it-all you're sweet on told you to? That isn't the Harry Potter I know."
Deny it. Ginny thought. Call me a git. Stop the investigation if you like, just deny it.
"Then I guess you don't know me very well," said Harry evenly, and strolled back to the Great Hall. "You coming Ginny? I really don't think you should be alone right now."
"Fine. I get it. I'm not going to investigate by myself." Ginny swallowed. "Just go on without me."
Harry looked at her, like he wanted to say something more.
"Just go," Ginny hissed.
Harry left. Ginny Weasley didn't make a scene. She didn't scream or shout, not even when Scabbers left her to follow after Hermione. Even a rat didn't want her company!
If Ginny were like her brother Ron she would have cried and whinged until Mum came all the way from the Burrow to comfort her. She'd have moaned about the unfairness of it all. Been humiliated with the realization that the worst thing Hermione Granger had ever done to her was offer her friendship and new textbooks. She'd have wondered what was wrong with her. That was, if she were Ron.
"Is something the matter?" Asked Neville Longbottom politely. "You seem upset."
Ginny smiled sweetly. "There's a certain girl. I want to beat her, but I can't quite manage it."
"Are you talking about Hermione Granger?" Asked Neville. "It has to be right? I mean, I've been in some classes with you and I think you're brilliant. Not at all like me."
Ginny hadn't noticed Neville in any of her classes, but she found she quite liked him. Wait- "Were you the one whose boils potion melted through the cauldron? How'd you even manage that?" It was impressive in a way. She didn't think even Fred and George had caused such mayhem in their first class.
"I'm no good at magic," said Neville, sighing. "Gran thought I was a squib. It wasn't until my great-uncle Algie dropped me off a window and I bounced on the ground that my magic finally showed itself. Good thing too, I don't think I'd have survived many more attempts to uncover my magic. I almost drowned in Blackpool pier, you know?"
"So you're saying you didn't melt that cauldron on purpose?" Asked Ginny skeptically. That seemed like a stretch- nobody could be that bad at potions, but something about Neville made her believe it. He kind of reminded her of an even more useless Ron, but for some reason she didn't find him nearly as annoying. "Neville, if anyone's picking on you you can come to me and I'll get them sorted. Or even if you just need someone to talk to, we can be friends."
"Thanks Ginny!" Neville smiled brightly. "You know, Harry said the same thing to me. I think the two of you would make a great match."
Ginny decided then that magical talent or no, Neville was pretty great.
"You know," Neville hesitated, as if he was deliberating with himself. "If you want some extra help, you might want to go to Professor Quirrell. Don't tell anyone, but he saw how much I struggled in Defense and offered to tutor me. He's a really great guy. He's helped me with magic and he can keep a secret. I've told him loads that I've never told anyone. If you're set on keeping pace with Hermione Granger he's the guy to go to."
Ginny hesitated. Dumbledore had told her to stop. Hermione had told her to stop. Even Harry had warned her. But…
Madam Pomfrey was dead, she'd been murdered, and Ginny wasn't such a coward that she'd let the killer get away with it.
"Thanks Neville." Ginny gave him an honest smile. "I just might."
Later that day, she did just that.
"Miss Weasley," Quirrell said, offering her a smile so forced it looked more like a grimace. "I've been expecting you. This is about your feud with Miss Granger is it not? You're frustrated because she's more clever than you."
Ginny hated the Defense against the Dark Arts Room. Binn's classroom was cluttered with books, Snape's was full of ingredients and strange smells, McGonagall's had blackboards and stained-glass windows. Quirrell's classroom had a textureless white ceiling, walls, and floor, with no windows, posters, or books. The desks were similarly featureless, and melded back into the floor when you left. Even the light just came from nowhere. The room smelled strongly of nothingness, as if a charm had been placed to get rid of any scent. There were no distractions. Just you and him.
Ginny squirmed. "No, it's not that." She was doing this for Madam Pomfrey! "Is there any way somebody could slip into Hogwarts unnoticed? This is all hypothetical of course."
Quirrell tapped his fingers against the formless white desk impatiently. "What do you know?"
"They could've slipped in using a Disillusion Charm," said Ginny quickly. Quirrell raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "I looked into floo, apparition, and portkey. None are viable. Maybe a polyjuice potion would work in terms of getting in- but I'm not sure where that gets me after that." Quirrell stared at her blankly, looking decidedly unimpressed. "I suppose perhaps a shrinking transfiguration charm might work. If you applied it to yourself perhaps you could get in or out without notice."
"I see," Quirrell sighed. "You know Madam Pomfrey was murdered. Now Ginny- and please do try and think before you answer- why did Dumbledore tell you to stop investigating her murder this morning?"
"I- err- He sealed the school… Which means… Which means the killer's still on the loose. He- if I ever get close to the truth the killer will just- He'll kill me," Ginny finished quietly. And suddenly Hermione's abrupt insistence on ending the investigation made sense. For that matter so did Harry's- hadn't he warned her against being alone?
Quirrell's laughter was high and cold. "Disappointing. Albus Dumbledore fought Lord Voldemort. He would surely sacrifice a middling first year to draw out a death eater. Try again."
Ginny thought about it a little harder. She thought back to Snape's paranoia, and then to a little theory Hermione had thrown out like it was nothing. "I don't know," said Ginny evenly, burning with shame. "I won't investigate anymore. I guess I'm not that smart. Goodbye."
The murderer was an undercover death eater who feared returning to You-Know-Who, who had infiltrated into the school. But Ginny had made a big scene of it and given everything away. She'd just given a death eater to You-Know-Who because she was jealous that another girl- not even a mean one- was smarter than her. She'd been really, really stupid. Astonishingly stupid. More than Ron had ever been. That was probably why she was in Slytherin and he was in Gryffindor.
"Curious," Quirrell whispered softly. "Tell me Ginny, was it Miss Granger who came up with the Disillusionment Charm theory? Or was it perhaps, somebody else?"
It had been Harry.
"Is that, perhaps, why you are upset?" Quirrell asked. "Because you've realized that it's not just Miss Granger who is more clever than you. Plenty of people are. Aside from being the first Slytherin Weasley, you've realized you're nothing special at all. The only difference between you and your mediocre brother Ronald is that you have delusions of grandeur and he does not."
Ginny nodded. Horrified. Transfixed. Quirrell could see right through her.
"But that isn't true Ginny," said Quirrell, his words honeyed and sweet. "Professor Snape told you to tell nobody about the killer and here you are. Against his orders. Against the orders of Albus Dumbledore himself. Because while you know those people to be good and wise, they are unfortunately rather limited.
"I understand Ginny. When I was at school there was someone more clever than me. It bothered me. At first I denied it. But then I realized that all his power meant nothing, if he didn't have the will to use it."
Quirrell stood, and reached into his cloak. He pulled out a little black book with gold lettering titled T. M. Riddle. He handed it to her. "Hermione Granger is far more intelligent than you. More skilled and clever, she is the brightest witch to grace this school in years. You are ordinary. This book, this diary of sorts, will allow you to beat her, but it will only be as useful as you make it Ginny. The more you pour into it, the more it will give back. You may begin to feel sick as you use it, you may question yourself- but that is the cost of greatness."
Ginny nodded, taking the little black book delicately.
"It is full of things people like Dumbledore would find unsavory," Quirrell admitted readily. "You may show it to them if you like, but they will not understand its worth. They will take it away from you and destroy it. People like them see nothing wrong with being ordinary, they will tell you to be satisfied with your pathetic talents."
Ginny was smiling for some reason. She normally hated being insulted, but she found that when insults were accurate enough, they actually felt good. She could see why Neville thought so highly of Quirrell. He wasn't fun to be around, but she'd felt like she'd grown just by talking to him, seeing into the person she really was- for all her ugliness and flaws. How could insight into her own character possibly be a bad thing? She'd look through Riddle's book, take what was useful, and if anything seemed dangerous or dark or evil she'd just turn it in. Afterall, how hard could it be to recognize evil when you saw it? And so she skipped out of his classroom feeling much better than when she came.
"Use it wisely," murmured Quirrell.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please like, follow, or review if you enjoyed the chapter! And now onto review!
Iwik - Oh yeah, plenty I can do in first year! I think you can take Hermione's obliviousness of other people as something that'll be with her going forward. Thanks for the review!