A/N: Y'all, writing this one was like pulling teeth for some reason. It became an 8,000-word behemoth of a chapter - which was lost and then eventually recovered, to my despair and subsequent relief. In the end, I had to pare it down. At least Chapter 25 is already partly done thanks to some pruning of Chapter 24 XD

Hope you enjoy!

~Naralanis


"Try again."

Narcissa blew rogue strands of hair from her face in frustration. It had been hours since she and Bellatrix had locked themselves away in the Lestrange Manor's Duelling Room. She was hungry, she was tired, and most of all, she was thoroughly irritated. Bella had drilled her on far too many jinxes, hexes, and curses she never cared to perform again.

"Why?" Narcissa dared ask, her eyes narrowing towards her sister, who casually leaned against a wide column with a disinterested look. "We've been here for hours, Bella!"

Bellatrix scoffed, shaking her head in the negative. "You know, Cissy, you ought to be a little more grateful. I'm taking valuable time away from the Dark Lord's service to teach you these things – the least you could do is go back to being the insufferable good student you always were in school."

Narcissa huffed, not wanting to seem ungrateful, but wishing she had the will to tell Bellatrix she did not care to learn to do what she did. Not that she was any stranger to the Dark Arts – her family had always been embroiled in them, for generations before her. No, the issue was just how... intense Bellatrix's uses for those spells were.

"Can't we pick this back up tomorrow, at least? I'm exhausted." She pleaded, hoping for some middle ground. With any luck, Bellatrix would let the matter drop and just be too busy to return to these lessons any time soon.

Bellatrix's eyes were stone, and her expression belied incredible annoyance. "I can't tomorrow, Cissy. I'll be out on an important mission with Rod." She straightened and walked towards Narcissa, her gait a little more menacing than Narcissa liked. "Get your act together" she said through gritted teeth. "You're a powerful, Pure-blooded witch who will grace our world with strong, Pure-blooded children. Start acting like one!"

Narcissa saw Bellatrix's wordless curse coming, but was too tired to react in time; her Protego missed its target by a mile, and she found herself glued to the floor, arms paralyzed above her head.

"Come on!" Bellatrix shouted, ending the curse. Narcissa struggled to her feet, her anger simmering, nearly boiling over her exhaustion.

"Bella, I am tired!" Narcissa said bitingly. Bellatrix looked angry and dismayed at her tone.

"Then learn to keep up! How are you ever going to survive this otherwise?! How will your children? You must be willing to push beyond your limits!" The oldest Black sister snarled.

"I won't fight you again. I'm done with this." Narcissa said with finality, turning away.

"Fine!" Bellatrix barked, throwing her hands in the air. "Then there's something else we can try."

Narcissa knew she was hit with an Imperius Curse immediately. She had been practicing her resistance to it for years, but still, with Bella, all that came was a vague awareness of someone infiltrating her defences before everything became a blur. She was somewhat aware that her body was turning and walking back towards her sister. Bellatrix only ended the curse when they were inches apart. Narcissa was too tired to feel furious now; instead, she only felt sadness.

"No matter how many times you do it" she said coldly, stifling the urge to cry before it overtook her, "I still can't believe you'll do this to your own sister."

Bellatrix eye's widened in surprise, but then dismay became the predominant emotion reflected in them. She backtracked a few steps.

"Cissy" she said, and her voice was almost pleading. "Please. It's for your own good! You need to build up your resistance to it!"

"I don't care!" Narcissa hissed. "It's exhausting, it's humiliating, it's wrong! It makes me feel like I can't trust you anymore, Bella!"

A wide range of emotions stormed Bellatrix's eyes; Narcissa could identify anger, confusion, and sadness, to name a few. It was unsettling; she never knew which emotion would win out in the end, as Bella's moods and feelings were entirely unpredictable, often dangerous.

"You have to let me help you!" She finally said through gritted teeth – it looked like anger would be it for tonight. "How can you be so neglectful?! When the Dark Lord decides you deserve his Mark, you won't be..."

"Stop right there. When the Dark Lord what?" Narcissa suddenly hissed, unable to believe what she heard coming from her sister's lips. Her interruption only served to confuse Bellatrix further – she looked at Narcissa like she couldn't recognize her own sister.

"When he..."

"I will never take his mark, Bella. Never! You can't make me!" Narcissa snarled, her own anger now boiling to the surface. What made it worse was Bellatrix's look of utter befuddlement.

"Cissy, I would never..." she began, but Narcissa did not give her the chance to continue.

"Don't lie to me!" She shouted. The fury boiling in her blood was a new feeling; it was foreign and intoxicating, all at once. The sheer force of it made her wand release white sparks as she held it in a painful white-knuckled grip. "Is this why you have been so adamant we practice?! So I could come join your little band of Death Eaters?" A terrifying thought occurred to her, since Bellatrix was aware Narcissa could not resist her Imperius. "Am I going to wake up branded with His Mark one day, after you Imperio me to do it?!"

All colour drained from Bellatrix's face at that. "Cissy, that's not... No! I would never! I thought you'd want to!"

The proclamation took the wind right out of Narcissa's sails. For the first time, she looked at Bellatrix as if she were a stranger. Did Bella even know her, at all?

"What in Merlin's name... would make you think I want that?"

Bellatrix gestured vaguely around them. "I thought you wanted something better for our world! A new order, where we occupy our rightful place, without Mudbloods and half-breeds and Squibs driving us out, taking our fortunes, our influence, our very magic!"

"I do!" Narcissa shouted. "But I'm not strong like you!"

Bellatrix frowned. "What do you mean? You're a powerful witch; you've got top marks on all of your..."

"I mean I can't do what you do, Bella!" Narcissa cried. "I couldn't do it. Not even to filth." She said, feeling deep shame consume her from within. It had always been Bellatrix who had been the strong one, the decisive one, the one to do what was needed. Narcissa? She was the brains. The bookish little girl with her head in the clouds. The quiet one, reading in the corners.

"I've always stood by you, and I always will. But I can't do what you and Lucius do; I can't... I will support you both, but I cannot do what the Dark Lord expects of a Death Eater. Please don't ask that of me."

Bellatrix seemed frozen in space; her mouth was agape, and her eyes were like stone, without even blinking. For a moment Narcissa wondered if her sister had been petrified somehow; it was like Bellatrix, forever dynamic and moving, had ceased to even breathe.

"Bella?"

Her sister's trance seemed to have ended at her call; Bellatrix's dark eyes met her in confusion and... determination.

"Fine." She said coolly, pupils darting about the room as if she scanned a battle territory. Narcissa shuddered when she met her sister's gaze.

"Fine?" She pushed, uncertain.

"Fine. I understand." Bellatrix breathed out. Narcissa could practically hear the wheels turning in her head. It wasn't Bella's usual frantic, maddening line of thought – no, she seemed almost... worried for her.

"In that case, I just want – I just need you to learn three things." She started walking determinately to the other end of the Duelling Room, the heels of her boots echoing through the mostly empty space and reverberating off the magically cushioned walls and columns.

Narcissa's stomach turned with unease. "What things?"

"One: evasion, with Nebula Nox." Bellatrix said clearly, raising her wand.

"What do you mean by..."

Her words were silenced by shock as her sister whipped her wand through the air and disappeared into a puff of dark mist that suddenly swept in a hurtling frenzy towards her with astonishing speed. Before Narcissa could blink, Bellatrix had materialized again, mere inches away from her. She backed away from her sister with a surprised yelp.

"Unplottable and incredibly fast." Bellatrix continued in the same breath she had before she became smoke. "Two," she kept going, walking back away from Narcissa and turning an intense look at her sister, "and this will be useful whether you want to find me or if you want to be found, without needing the Mark on your arm" She pointed her wand to the enchanted ceiling that was made unnaturally high by magic. "Morsmordre!"

Narcissa shivered as Bellatrix conjured the Death Eater's calling card into the room; the eerie glow of the serpentine figure floating before them cloaked the two sisters in its gloomy light. It enveloped Narcissa in a blanket of cold air.

"Do I have to?" She asked. Bellatrix seemed to ignore her completely.

"Focus your intention on the person; that should be enough for you to narrow down its effect and not call our entire 'little band of Death Eaters' to your bloody doorstep."

Narcissa winced.

"Bella..."

"Third," Bellatrix interrupted her, vanishing the Dark Mark from the air with a flourish. "And this will be the most important thing I ever teach you." She said, her resolute steps bringing her closer to Narcissa once more. "Keeping secrets."

Narcissa trembled in fear when she felt the tip of her sister's wand on her temple. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was too late.

"Legilimens!"


Explaining the security breach turned out to be not overly complicated. To Hermione's surprise, Narcissa not only looked mildly guilty but also... enormously embarrassed for causing unnecessary alarm. Minerva, for her part, had dismissed the apology with a gentle but firm warning. In another show of trust in the blonde, she pointedly asked Hermione to allow the specific charm Nebula Nox to be performed without triggering the wards, even after Narcissa's repetitious reassurances that she would not perform it again.

By the end of it, Narcissa and Hermione had left the Headmistress' office barely fifteen minutes after they had arrived. Hermione felt relieved the ward trigger matter had been so easily resolved. But now, walking side-by-side with Narcissa and without a destination in mind, her mind thrummed with unanswered questions – some about all the Dark spells Narcissa said were all but 'second-nature' to her, but others, which were much more urgent, about William White and Stuart Davies.

She sent one discreet look Narcissa's way to gauge the blonde's mood. Narcissa had not said a word since they left Minerva's office, and her pensive expression made Hermione uneasy. It wasn't the normal thoughtful look she had in her eyes when she thought about a warding problem, or when she created increasingly complicated tests for her advanced Potions students. Her brow was not furrowed in studious contemplation as it usually was in such matters but her eyes were simply... vacant, in a way. She looked straight ahead as if she didn't see the world around her, and her lips were pressed into a thin line.

Hermione decided to ignore how she got to such a level of acute observation to be able to read Narcissa in such a way. She looked more pointedly at the other witch.

"Knut for your thoughts?"

Narcissa turned to her as if she had forgotten Hermione was there. Her lips quirked into a timid smile – it had a hint of embarrassment.

"I don't think my thoughts at the moment are worth even a knut" she joked. "I was thinking about how stupid it was to set off security wards with something so trivial as Nebula Nox" she said, running an exasperated hang through her long hair.

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but was momentarily transfixed by the glimmering movement of Narcissa's long blonde locks in the light of the torches in the corridor. She had to take a moment to clear her throat, and Narcissa looked at her quizzically.

"Yeah, hm." She thanked Merlin the corridor was still quite dark despite the torches "well, at least it wasn't anything serious. And hey, now we know the wards work wonders! All in all, good training exercise." Hermione breathed out, trying to stop her rambling before it got out of control.

It didn't quite work; Narcissa was still regarding her oddly.

"Are you alright, Hermione?"

The brunette cursed the other woman inwardly for using her first name. It had made her happy before, but now that she was aware of just how... attractive she found Narcissa, hearing it in her voice was like some sort of torture.

"Yup!" Hermione squeaked, looking for an out and not finding any.

Narcissa still sported a puzzled look; she stopped walking and Hermione began to panic for a moment, thinking that perhaps... perhaps Narcissa noticed something amiss about her behaviour.

Which was a ludicrous thought, she told herself repeatedly.

"I don't want to impose," Narcissa began, speaking very softly, "but... you could come to my chambers for a little talk, if you wish. I can tell you more about the incident with William White."

Hermione hoped she had been able to school her expression of surprise in time, but it was in vain – Narcissa suddenly looked embarrassed.

"Actually, it is quite late – never mind; I'm sure you need your rest. In any case, I can always tell you more about it tomo..."

The young Transfiguration Professor had no idea how or why she did it, but she found herself stopping Narcissa's inevitable rambling much the same way Narcissa had done to her earlier – with a finger to her lips.

Narcissa let out a little gasp of surprise at the action that shot a jolt of electricity right down Hermione's spine; she would have lowered her hand, but Hermione was momentarily enthralled by the feel of Narcissa's breaths as they passed through her soft – her incredulously soft – lips. Her blue eyes were wide, and her breaths came out a little quicker. Hermione didn't lower her hand as she spoke.

"Narcissa" she practically choked out. "Stop rambling. I'd love a nightcap."

Hermione finally removed her hand once she felt Narcissa's lips quirk into a shy smile under her fingers.

"I believe it's closer to morning now."

They settled for tea in Narcissa's chamber – some floral brew that smelled faintly of lavender. Hermione waited patiently for Narcisa to put away their robes, gazing at all the books she had in the private sitting room of her quarters. Hermione had never met anyone who owned more books than she did. Even if she discounted Black Library – which was to become a public academic resource soon – Narcissa still owned an impressive collection that she kept at Hogwarts. While most, unsurprisingly, were Potions-related, Hermione was impressed to find a small nook, relegated to the side of the room, where several fiction tomes were organized alphabetically.

Many were from well-known wizarding authors, and more than a few were undoubtedly expensive collectors' editions, embroidered with gold and silver and encrusted with gemstones. They were works of art, but that was not what caught Hermione's eye.

She was so intrigued by the little worn paperback, shoved haphazardly atop much more extravagant tomes. Hermione had to stifle a laugh when she saw the title.

"See something you like?" Came Narcissa's voice from behind, sounding thoroughly amused.

This time, Hermione was entirely shameless about being caught looking. She turned to grace Narcissa with a cheerful smile, reaching for the paperback.

"Yes actually," she said, making a big show of leafing through Pride and Prejudice. "I didn't peg you for an Austen fan. Or any Muggle literature, for that matter."

Narcissa smiled and blushed, more heavily than Hermione had ever seen her blush. She tried very hard to regain her composure, but the way she failed at it was very endearing.

"Well," she whispered, as if she had been the one caught snooping. "One needn't be a Muggle to appreciate Ms. Austen's wit."

Hermione could feel her own grin stretching ear to ear. "I suppose not. Any other Muggle treasures hidden away in the lair of the great Pure-Blood Queen Narcissa Black?"

Narcissa crossed her arms in front of her in amusement. "Perhaps, but you shall never find my copy of Beowulf."

Hermione was delighted. "I am pleasantly surprised."

Narcissa rolled her eyes. "So was I, when I read them." She walked over to where Hermione stood, taking the book from her hands and flipping over to the very last page. There was an inscription on the back; the handwriting was so messy Hermione had difficulty reading it, but when she did, she barely supressed her gasp of surprise. It read:

Dearest Cissy,

I don't think you have this one yet. Happy reading. Don't forget I'll always love you.

Drommie

March, 1972

"1972?" Hermione asked, brows furrowed in question. "Isn't that before..." She did the math in her head.

"Shortly before she eloped. She and Ted were gone by that summer." Narcissa said. Now Hermione had difficulty reading her expression. "I thought it was a great big joke, her sending me a Muggle book. I didn't know she was planning to leave." Her tone was now sad with the memory.

"That's... heart-breaking." Hermione said honestly. Narcissa's gaze snapped to Hermione's, but she waved her off.

"It was... I was furious with her for doing it. Yet... I could never get rid of that book. I ended up reading it – in secret of course. I begrudgingly admitted Muggles could be quite... talented, when it came to writing."

Hermione smiled at little. "Just writing?"

Narcissa rolled her eyes again. "Now I'm very much aware they are talented in several fields..." She narrowed her eyes. "Happy now?"

"Extremely." Hermione retorted cheekily.

The two witches finally sat on the small sofa in Narcissa's sitting room, ignoring the two armchairs. Hermione had almost forgotten why she was there, such was her surprise and amusement with Narcissa's Muggle literature. But the blonde was quick to reroute them.

"About tonight..."

"Ah! Yes, William White? You said Stuart Davies was following him? But Stuart is a Gryffindor, and I don't think he and William are friends; actually, I don't recall if they even share classes... Also, what was that about the Baron? Is he..."

Hermione felt Narcissa's hand stop her rambling for the second time that evening; she was startled enough to reach for the blonde's wrist on impulse.

Neither witch seemed to know what to do next; Narcissa broke the oddly charged silence by discreetly clearing her throat. Hermione immediately let go, eager to dispel whatever electric charge was undoubtedly coursing through her arm.

"I was going to say," Narcissa began, and Hermione could not stop herself from noticing the flush that crept upon the blonde's neck "that I got Lord Albert to keep a discreet eye on William. To see how he's doing. He told me Peeves had seen William on his way to the Owlery, being followed by another student."

Hermione was immediately diverted.

"Godric's girdles, I will forever be jealous of how you can just get the Baron to do your bidding." Her brow's furrowed. "Especially when it comes to Peeves."

Narcissa smiled. "Lord Albert is kind enough to humour my requests. He's always been quite amenable to them."

Hermione's brows furrowed as she thought of what Narcissa had told her before. "So the other student was Stuart Davies? That's so strange."

Narcissa motioned for the other witch to sit, beckoning the tea set with a discrete flick of her wand. She noticed Hermione's slight flush as she took a seat next to her on the small couch, but Narcissa chose to ignore it for the time being.

"Indeed," she agreed. "William does not fraternize with many students to begin with; his few acquaintances are half-bloods from Slytherin, and perhaps one or two from Ravenclaw... I do not recall whether Stuart and William share any classes."

"They are certainly not in my class together. Stuart is very... withdrawn from the rest of his Housemates. He does have some friends in Slytherin, but I don't think William is one of them." Hermione pondered. She remembered the game they played at the Sorting Ceremony, when Narcissa had guessed correctly for so many students sorted to Slytherin.

"Do you know the Davies' family?"

Narcissa shook her head. "Not well. They're from Wales, and were never very politically active – Lucius and I mostly associated with families that... ah..." she cleared her throat, and Hermione saw a bit of shame in her features, "that could prove beneficial in the future."

Hermione nodded in understanding, disliking the thought. "I know Stuart was disappointed to be placed in Gryffindor. Did you know that they've been Slytherins for generations?"

The Potions Professor nodded. "Yes, though there is a bit of a generational gap – the Davies' parents are older than I am, so we never interacted at Hogwarts. They were only capable of having children very late in life – Christine Davies gave birth to Stuart when she was 53."

Hermione whistled softly in amazement. "Do you know if they ever supported Voldemort?"

The teacup Narcissa held clattered in its saucer as she trembled at the name. "Not that I know of," she said, her voice hoarse. "It's hard to say. The Dark Lord garnered a lot of silent, financial support. I know Gareth Davies – the Davies brothers' father – made a fortune with Quidditch; one of his companies manufactures equipment for many Premier League teams. I'm not quite sure what the family did before that, nor where they invested their money during the war."

Hermione frowned, deep in thought. She and Harry had always thought about how to track down families who had served as silent supporters of You-Know-Who in both wars. As it turned out, that proved to be harder than either of them had imagined – even with Draco's invaluable help, they had found very little success in finding them. Wizarding financial and political networks were intricately woven webs of deceit.

It was part of the reason people had been so slow to adapt. While there were now laws in place against the discrimination of Muggle-Borns, there were still circles in which the word 'Mudblood' was still uttered with intense disdain. It was also part of the reason Hermione worried so much for William in Slytherin at the start of the year.

"Well, whatever the case, I know Stuart does not like being in Gryffindor" Hermione sighed after a pensive sip of her tea. It broke her heart, in a way – Gryffindor was her home, and she wanted her students to feel welcome there. Even Stuart, who managed to annoy her and astound her in equal parts.

"I wonder what his family thinks of the situation." Narcissa mused aloud. "I don't know what his brother Edgar thinks of the matter. But he was... connected to William White's incident before Christmas. And the Vegetable Incident."

"I wish we had more leads on whoever was responsible for it." Hermione said, annoyed. Her head told her it was William, and in truth, so did her heart, but she didn't want to believe it.

"Oh, it was Mr. White, without a shadow of a doubt." Narcissa proclaimed, sounding convinced. "The only reason he was not punished for it was because we had no proof."

Hermione turned to face Narcissa directly. "How can you be so sure?"

"Well, for starters, the students targeted. They were all present at the incident in November. Then, a Green-Fingered Draught as retaliation? I can think of few students who would think of such a harmless yet... appropriate potion. I can think of even fewer who have a good enough rapport with Mr. Longbottom to know where to find Sassafras Pulp for it."

Hermione thought about it. William did seem to have a good relationship with the Herbology Professor. Neville had told her the young boy seemed to have a natural talent for Herbology. Plus, William was knowledgeable enough to research a harmless potion to fit his purposes.

"Alright, so let's say William did take part in the Vegetable Incident. Would Stuart be following him out of revenge for his brother? That just seems unlikely."

Narcissa nodded her agreement. "Indeed. There's no indication Edgar and his crew know anything about the one responsible for the incident anyhow. But there is something about me that stumps me, if I am honest."

"Oh? What is it?"

"Well," the blonde said, setting down her teacup. "we know the potion was administered through the food. But how was it done? How did William manage to target those students specifically? He was not sitting anywhere near them on the Slytherin table, and there are very few ways of tainting a person's food undetected in the Great Hall – all of them beyond the skill of a first-year."

Hermione sighed in frustration. She had also thought of that, and not being able to come up with a satisfactory answer was one of the most vexing frustrations she encountered through life. One of the greatest downsides of being a know-it-all were the moments when she did not, in fact, know it all.

"And now all of this business with his home life, WiSer... And whatever the hell happened tonight." Her gaze was now curious. "You said he had a burst of accidental magic?"

"Yes," Narcissa confirmed it with a nod. "Quite a strong one as well."

"How..." Hermione hesitated to ask, "how did it even come about?"

Narcissa shrugged daintily. "I am not sure. He is clearly very stressed about his home life – he was at the Owlery to send his mother a letter... when no one would be able to see him."

Hermione was puzzled. "A letter? What's so wrong about sending a letter to his parents? I sent my parents letters all the time as a first-year."

"As did I" Narcissa acknowledged "but we must remember that William is doing his best to not seem weak before his classmates. I am no stranger to how vicious us Slytherins can be. The fact that all he's had to contend with was one small brawl in the corridor frankly surprises me."

Hermione's eyes widened, unable to believe what she was hearing. Talking with Narcissa the past few weeks had painted the other woman in such a kind, generous light – it was an ugly pivot into reality to hear her admit she expected more harm to befall William, coming from her own House.

"You knew" Hermione said venomously, setting her teacup down a little more strongly than she intended. "You knew from the beginning he would be vulnerable! And you refused to do more to help him!"

Narcissa seemed surprised at having Hermione's anger directed at her. She straightened in her seat, looking imposing with her hard-set jaw and frigid eyes.

"I beg your pardon?" she said, her voice cold. "We all knew he would be vulnerable, Ms. Granger."

"Yes!" Hermione said, standing and looking down at Narcissa, who just sat, ever-so-primly. "We all knew. But I wanted to help him, not leave him to the wolves!"

"Or the vipers, as I recall it." Narcissa said icily. Hermione felt like a child being chastised, and likely looked it. It was an unhappy realization.

"All I'm saying" she said, gritting her teeth to get her emotions under control, "is that we could have done more."

Narcissa gave her an odd look, and Hermione hated the way it made her feel. The blonde looked... disappointed.

"Tell me then, Ms. Granger, what could have we done? Coddled him with unwanted attention? Comforted him excessively in front of all his classmates? Perhaps we ought to have given him preferential treatment – a little more hand-holding on your part would surely have done wonders for his work in Transfiguration, would it not?"

Hermione felt even more like a scolded child. She struggled to get her temper under control; it was stupid to have it flare up so easily over a subject they had already resolved. A few deep breaths later, she found it in herself to sit back down. Narcissa regarded with one quizzical raised brow.

"I'm sorry." Hermione said finally. Narcissa's stern look eventually relented, and the blonde let out a long-suffering sigh.

"William is proving himself worthy of Slytherin. He's won the House innumerable points, he has not made an embarrassment out of himself, he tackles his challenges head on. We cannot stifle him."

Hermione turned to Narcissa, confused. "Stifle him?"

The Potions Professor looked off into the distance, seemingly annoyed. "Encouragement is a double-edged sword. A Muggle-born's road in Slytherin will be long, and we cannot lead him through it, because we do not know the way." She turned her intense gaze to Hermione, who could only return it in confusion. "I know all about being a Slytherin. You know all about being a Muggle-born. No one knows how to be both – William must learn on his own."

Hermione sagged in her seat; she felt an odd mixture of utter defeat and resignation. There was very little they could do for William, and that did not sit well with her – it never would. Narcissa's handling of the entire situation aggravated her immensely, but she had to admit that they would need to at least work together to navigate these uncharted waters – for their sake as much as William's.

"Well, so we know what William was doing at the Owlery. But what about Stuart? Why was he following William?" She asked aloud, pivoting back to the initial subject. Narcissa smirked in a way that made Hermione think of Draco – all that time she thought he had inherited that smug expression from his father, but no, it definitely came from Narcissa.

"You have a plan, I assume?" she quipped, narrowing her eyes. Narcissa's smirk only widened.

"You can say that. They will both serve detention at the same time on Tuesday. You see, Stuart was careful not to incriminate another student – that tells me they are either working together or Stuart had an ulterior motive to be following William – I'm guessing the latter. I will put them together and see what I can gather."

Hermione grinned right back. She wouldn't have thought of that – she would have probably tried to interrogate Stuart, stacking the evidence against him. Perhaps catching him by surprise with the knowledge of why he was out of bed after curfew would rattle him.

Now that was a Slytherin trick she could learn appreciate.

"Sneaky," she quipped, a knowing glint in her eye. "I like it."