Previously: Kali Black got lost on her way to Charms and had her first face-to-face with Professor Snape. The encounter didn't go well, and neither did Charms when Pansy Parkinson and her friends decided that Kali was close to the bottom of the social food chain. The day didn't get any better after that as Draco insulted a Hippogriff during Care of Magical Creatures and was promptly attacked by the winged beast, which resulted in an argument between Draco and Kali.

Chapter Seven:

The Benefits of Leech Juice

Hermione started Monday morning with Divination, and then she started it again with Arithmancy.

Her mother had taught her to leave the good things until last and get the unpleasant things over and done with first. Divination was setting itself up to be Hermione's least favourite class this year. The first lesson last week hadn't gone well at all. Hermione hadn't been able to make heads nor tails of her tea leaves, Professor Trelawney had predicted Harry's death and had said that Hermione had very little 'aura' and 'receptivity to the resonances of the future', whatever that meant.

She always looked forward to Arithmancy, though.

After writing down the homework, Hermione packed her bag and ran from the Divination tower into the nearest bathroom. A spin of the Time-Turner later, she rushed to the seventh floor, down a corridor that she had never been to before this year because the rooms lining it couldn't fit many students.

Hermione arrived just as Professor Vector was closing the door. She shot the professor an apologetic glance and darted in.

Fay and Eileen, the two other Gryffindors who took this class, sat at the back of the room. Although not friends, they and Hermione were civil with one another—or at least Hermione and Fay were. Eileen could be a bit nasty at times. They had saved her a seat, but Hermione always favoured the front of the class when she could. However, the Gryffindors shared this lesson with the Slytherins.

While Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott occupied the middle row, Blaise Zabini and Kali Black sat at the front.

Hermione didn't hesitate long before taking the seat next to Kali's, although she sat as far away from her as she could manage.

Professor Vector began her lesson, and Hermione wrote every word. They were half an hour in when the professor asked them to work in groups, at which point Hermione regretted her seating arrangement.

She had never had a proper conversation with either Blaise or Kali, but she knew from sharing classes with him for two years that Blaise was apathetic and lazy about most things, and she couldn't imagine Kali being any better.

According to the rumours that had spread like wildfire over the past few days, Kali was at least mildly magically gifted, but being talented and being skilled were two different things. Talent was natural and took next to no effort; whereas skill was all about the work you put into it. It was about discipline and perseverance, both of which Hermione had in droves and which were highly necessary for a subject as complex as Arithmancy.

If Kali and Blaise thought that Hermione was going to do all the work for them, they were mistaken.

"Is there something about this being a group project that is unclear to you, Granger?" Blaise asked in a slow and indifferent drawl.

Hermione, who had been reading through the theory overview one last time before attempting the exercise, looked up at him. He lounged in his chair, book unopened. Kali answered before Hermione could.

"Says the guy who isn't planning to lift a finger to help out," she said. She hadn't bothered turning her attention away from whatever she was scribbling in her Muggle notebook with her Muggle pens.

"That's precisely why I'm asking," he said, throwing Kali his most charming smile as any thought of Hermione left his mind. "We can't have you doing all of the work by yourself. That wouldn't be fair."

"Know what else wouldn't be fair?" Kali asked, finally looking up at him and returning his smile. "Letting the teacher know how unhelpful you're being."

Blaise had two expressions: bored indifference and vain amusement. He switched to the second. "Are you going to tell on me, Black?"

"It would be unkind of me to reinforce your notion that slacking off will get you through life. I'd be doing you a favour."

Despite the threat, Blaise's grin widened. "Which part shall I work on?"

"The number chart for the second equation," she said. "But use the Lovelace theorem instead of the Thoth one. It doesn't rely on Astronomy as much, so it'll be more accurate."

Hermione's eyebrows rose when Blaise did as he was told.

She hadn't considered using the Lovelace formula. Professor Vector had taught it to them last week, but they'd since moved on to the Thoth theorem. Using the former instead of the latter made sense, though, as the Thoth theorem relied on the movements of stars from over 5,200 years ago.

"The first equation is harder," Kali said, turning to Hermione. "Shall we work on it together, or would you rather we each take half?"

Hermione stared as her brain brought up the photo of a sunken-faced man with long, matted hair whom she had seen in the papers and on television. Kali's hair was shinier than Sirius Black's, her face was fuller, and her skin not as pale, but the shape and colour of their eyes matched, as did the straightness of their noses and the angles of their faces.

Kali Black was the daughter of a killer—a man who had brutally murdered thirteen people, escaped from Azkaban, and was now on the loose and after Harry. Had Kali looked like a mountain troll, everyone would have found it much easier to remember that she was related to a mass murderer, and they might start to wonder why she had chosen to transfer to Hogwarts this year, right after her father had escaped from prison.

For her part, Hermione did not trust Kali Black, not one bit, but this could be the perfect opportunity to learn more about this new potential threat.

"We can do it together," said Hermione, and Kali smiled at her. It was a nice smile—it was warm and made the corners of her eyes crinkle.

Kali slid her chair closer to Hermione's, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "You're a Muggle-born, right?"

Hermione tensed. "Yes." She was used to name-calling, be it for the colour of her skin, her physical appearance, her brusque manner, or her blood status, but that didn't make it any easier to take.

"I only ask because that means you know mathematics."

Hermione had loved maths when she was little. It was logical and straightforward; there could only be one right answer. She had been disappointed when she'd found out that it wasn't taught at Hogwarts, but it was a small price to pay in exchange for learning magic. Arithmancy was basically mathematics, except it was more complicated, more involved, and fairly often you had to cross-reference it with Astronomy. It was wonderful.

"You know maths, too?" asked Hermione.

"My mother hired a Muggle tutor to teach me the basics."

Hermione blinked and scrunched her brow. "But you're a pure-blood."

After Hermione had found out about the importance of blood status in the wizarding world, she had done some research and had found a list of the 'Sacred Twenty-Eight', as they were called. The twenty-eight British wizarding families whose blood was the purest. The Blacks had featured prominently on that list.

"Half-blood, actually," Kali corrected with a wave of her hand. "My mother's side of the family is a little too diverse to fit in with the pure-blood crowds."

"Your mother?" Hermione repeated like an idiot. She'd been so focused on Kali's father that she had forgotten to consider that she would have other family.

The crooked smile Kali threw her way was too devious to be called anything other than a smirk. "Yeah, most people have one."

"Right." Hermione nodded as a blush crept up her neck. "Was it your mother's idea to move to the UK?"

Kali stopped smiling. It was like a switch had flipped. She cleared her throat and looked down at the equation on which they were supposed to be working. "No. She died a few years ago."

Hermione's mind blurted a swear, but she kept it to herself. "I'm sorry."

With a shrug and a nod, Kali accepted the courtesy gesture, but she didn't take her eyes off the worksheet.

Discomfort and social awkwardness made Hermione's skin itch. She shifted in her seat, wanting an end to this conversation, but as it often did, her nosiness got the better of her. "I don't mean to pry," she said, "but if your mother passed away, and your father is—"

Kali looked up at her, and Hermione swallowed. It wasn't a glare; there wasn't a hint of anger or malice in Kali's eyes, but it was piercing. Hermione might have called it intense if she didn't think that sounded silly.

Head tilting to the side, Kali completed Hermione's question. "Who do I live with?"

The prickling eased, and Hermione nodded.

"My grandmother, Freyja Morrigan, and my godfather, Professor Lupin."

Hermione nodded and ducked her head, eyes falling on the Arithmancy exercise. It explained why Hermione had seen Kali and the new professor talking in the corridors a couple of times.

The third-year Gryffindors had their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson of the year this afternoon, so Hermione had had no interaction with Professor Lupin since the Dementor incident on the train. If the way he had dealt with that situation was anything to go by, he was a skilled wizard and knowledgeable about the subject he taught. Those attributes alone made him the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher Hermione had ever had.

Between the two of them, Kali and Hermione solved the equation in no time.

Kali's eyebrows rose higher with every complicated division and multiplication that Hermione did in her head, and her smile grew every time Hermione insisted on writing it all down, step by step, to double-check her answers. When they finished, they checked Blaise's equation, to which he took mild offence, but his indignation seemed mostly designed to tease Kali. They were the first group to finish, and their work got the only perfect score.

"Have you finished the homework for Ancient Runes yet?" Kali asked as they packed their bags.

"Nearly. I'm having a bit of trouble translating the third paragraph." Hermione and Kali headed to the dungeons for Potions, and Blaise trailed after Kali like a loyal dog. "I'm not sure what I'm doing wrong."

Hermione half-jogged to keep up with Kali's long legs, but Kali slowed when Hermione started rubbing at a side stitch. "It's written in a tense that doesn't exist in the English language," she said. "An exact translation isn't possible."

That explained it. "What tense is it?"

"The future perfect subjunctive. It was used in Latin-based languages years ago but has since fallen out of favour. I think Spanish still uses it in legal documents."

Hermione made a mental note to take another look at her Runes homework tonight and wondered if the library had any translated Spanish law books. Behind her, Blaise sighed.

Kali glanced over her shoulder. "Yes, Blaise?"

"Oh, you're paying attention to me again?" he said, oozing the kind of ooze that only a Slytherin could. "How nice. I assumed that because there was someone of your own gender to talk to, you'd forgotten about me."

Cocking her eyebrows, Kali threw him a smile. "Are you jealous?"

"Only curious," he said with an arch of his own brow. "Why is it that you prefer female company to that of men?"

"The conversation's better as is the hygiene."

Blaise snorted, and the two of them bickered all the way down to the dungeons.

They arrived in front of the classroom right on time. Professor Snape ordered them in with a glare, and Hermione hurried to set up her things at one of the potion benches.

A draught blew past, and goosebumps rose on her arms. It was colder down here than anywhere else in the castle despite the many small cooking fires. She supposed the frigid temperatures helped in preserving the pickled animal parts that floated in the glass jars lining the walls.

Professor Snape wrote instructions on the blackboard and explained that they would be brewing a Shrinking Solution today. Hermione set up her cauldron between Kali's and Neville's and got to work preparing her ingredients.

Potions was a challenging subject that required her utmost attention, but today the class was filled with an endless stream of distractions.

First, Neville almost fell face-first into his cauldron when Kali smiled at him. Second, Draco, who had wandered off to the hospital wing after Arithmancy to have his arm checked, returned halfway through the first hour of the lesson, not even earning himself a reprimand from Professor Snape. Third, Draco set up his cauldron next to Harry and Ron, and Professor Snape demanded that Ron help Draco prepare his ingredients to which Ron went brick red. There was a squabble over daisy roots; Harry was made to skin Draco's shrivel fig, and Neville's potion, which was supposed to be bright, acid green, had turned—

"Orange, Longbottom," said Professor Snape. He ladled some up and allowed it to splash into the cauldron so that everyone could see. "Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

Neville's skin tinged pink, and he started to shake. He pressed his trembling lips together as his eyes watered.

Hermione jumped to his aid. "Please, sir, I could help Neville put it right—"

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger." Hermione snapped her jaw shut, feeling her skin turn as pink as Neville's. "Longbottom, at the end of this lesson, we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."

Professor Snape moved away, leaving Neville breathless.

"Help me!" he moaned to Hermione.

Hermione waited until Professor Snape was out of earshot before she started muttering instructions to Neville while simultaneously finishing her own potion.

"You should have finished adding your ingredients by now," said Professor Snape five minutes later. "This potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Longbottom's."

Crabbe and Goyle laughed, watching Neville sweat as he stirred his potion. Hermione kept muttering instructions out of the corner of her mouth. The rest of the class packed their unused ingredients and went to wash their hands and ladles at the stone basin in the corner of the room into which ice-cold water poured from a gargoyle's mouth.

The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who cowered by his cauldron.

"Everyone, gather 'round," said Professor Snape, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned."

Hermione chewed on her lip as Professor Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat.

The toad gulped. There was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole wriggled in Snape's palm.

Half of the class burst into applause. Professor Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robes, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and the toad reappeared, fully grown.

"Five points from Gryffindor," said Professor Snape, which wiped the smiles from every face. "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger."

Hermione flinched under the teacher's glare and stared at the contents of her cauldron.

"Who can tell me the benefits of leech juice before class ends?"

Hermione's hand shot up, eager to regain the points she'd just lost, but Professor Snape ignored her. His eyes wandered around the classroom until they landed on Kali. His expression twisted, and the look he gave her was much the same as the look he gave Harry on a regular basis. Loathing. Professor Snape had never looked at a Slytherin like that before; he had never once been mean to anyone from his House.

"Miss Black, perhaps?" Her name sounded like an insult on his tongue.

Kali smiled and recited the long list of known leech juice benefits. Hermione's mood dropped as Kali listed every last one. She didn't want Kali to fail, but she'd known the answer too and would have liked the opportunity to earn back a few points for Gryffindor.

As Kali spoke, Professor Snape's expression darkened. When she finished, he asked, "And why, Miss Black, did you not raise your hand if you knew the answer?"

"Someone already had their hand up, sir, and seemed eager to answer. It would have been rude to take the chance away from her."

"Miss Granger is a show-off who believes that knowing her every textbook off by heart makes her an adequate witch," said Professor Snape, his lips curling. "Her eagerness is a pain."

Hermione's insides twisted. Her face burned, and she ducked her head to hide her stinging eyes.

"Surely as a teacher you should value a student who's eager to learn," said Kali her tone chillier than the dungeon walls.

"Watch your tongue," snapped Snape.

"Sorry, Professor. Only you see, this is a new school for me, and I feel it would be best if I know the rules and proper procedures when dealing with teachers," said Kali. "So is it that you don't like it when your students participate, or do you simply not like it when they give the right answer? And while we're at it, is threatening to harm a student's pet a common motivational tool at this school, sir?"

Hermione's head snapped up. Everyone stared at Kali with a mixture of horror and awe.

"Detention, Miss Black," barked Professor Snape.

Kali didn't even flinch. "For participating or for being right?"

"For being insolent," he snarled. "How very like your father you've turned out to be. I'd have thought that his absence from your life would have been beneficial, but it would seem I was mistaken. Twenty points from Gryffindor."

Kali tilted her head. "Why Gryffindor, sir?"

"Because you're …" He trailed off. Angry red splodges dotted his skin, and his jaw worked like a machine stalling and restarting over and over again.

"A Slytherin," said Kali, finishing his sentence for him. "It would seem I'm not a replica of my father after all. You must be thrilled." She smiled, but it didn't touch her eyes. When the bell rang, she grabbed her bag and started toward the door. "I'll see you tonight then. Does 8 o'clock work for you?"

The class stared after her.

"Class dismissed," shouted Snape. He had turned an ugly, splotchy purple colour.

Hermione spent most of her lunch hour in the periodicals section of the library.

Every newspaper from the day after You-Know-Who's Halloween attack on the Potter's until the end of that year mentioned Sirius Black, as did every paper since Black's escape from Azkaban.

Hermione added another sheet of parchment to the case folder she had built. She had a list of official facts, a list of unofficial character statements, and a list of theories.

Official Facts:

Some time prior to the Potter attack, Sirius Black became the Potters' Secret Keeper (Fidelius Charm). Only he could reveal the Potters' location. On the night of Halloween, You-Know-Who entered the Potters' household.

The following day, Sirius Black used the Exploding Charm (Bombarda Maxima) to blow up a Muggle street, killing twelve Muggles and the wizard Peter Pettigrew. The purpose of this attack was to kill Pettigrew who had found Black and confronted him about his part in the murders of Lily and James Potter.

Aurors arrived at the scene. Black did not resist arrest (he laughed?). Open and close investigation. Black was deemed guilty of thirteen counts of murder, conspiracy to murder, and treason. Sentenced to life in Azkaban.

He escaped Azkaban on the 27th of July (this year) at about 4 am. Still no idea how. His escape was reported on Muggle news on the 31st of July. Orders to not engage. Black is highly dangerous. There have been several reported sightings. None confirmed.

Dementors are posted at Hogwarts. They searched the Hogwarts Express on the 1st of September but didn't find him.

Hermione had read dozens of articles, but most said the same thing. The facts fit on one side of a single piece of parchment, and none helped her. She had pages and pages of character statements, though, from interviews with Aurors and Black's acquaintances, but she doubted their usefulness, too.

Character Statements (sample):

"In my fifth year at Hogwarts, Sirius Black shredded all my robes because I beat him at a game of cards."

"He was banned from playing Quidditch after he bashed an opponent's skull in with his Beater's bat."

"Sirius Black once trained a feral deer to eviscerate people with its antlers and snuck it into the Great Hall."

Thousands of people claimed to have suffered at the hands or wand of Sirius Black. Every interview painted him as a madman, unpredictable and explosive, which the facts supported, but a lot of the claims tasted false, or at least exaggerated. Hermione had a Time-Turner and even she couldn't wreak as much havoc as people claimed Black had.

She only had two theories.

Theories:

1) Black's goal is to kill Harry. Why? To finish the job he started. Proof? Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge met personally with Harry at the Leaky Cauldron (after Harry blew up his aunt). Dumbledore allowed Dementors at Hogwarts. He wouldn't have agreed to that if the threat weren't real.

2) How did Black escape from Azkaban? Outside help? Death Eaters in the Ministry? A recent article claimed that Dementors can't be bribed, which isn't true. You-Know-Who bought their support. If theory 1 is correct (likely) and the Dementors are in league with Black, how easily can he get to Harry?

The answer to that last question made Hermione's gut twist.

Harry was more worried about Quidditch than he was about Sirius Black, but Hermione needed a plan.

She read through her fact sheet for the hundredth time. The holes glared at her, taunting her like missing puzzle pieces. If she could only find one or two more, the picture would reveal itself. She picked up the nearest newspaper and skimmed it for Sirius Black's name or a mention of You-Know-Who or Death Eaters or the Potters.

"Hermione?" Kali stood at the end of one of the library's narrow alleys. Her frown turned into a smile, and she changed course, heading toward Hermione.

Another swear sprang into Hermione's brain, a side-effect of spending so much time with Ron. She flicked her gaze over her research, over all of the newspapers from the covers of which Sirius Black's mugshot screamed. Kali stopped on the other side of Hermione's table. Her eyes dropped. Her smile fell.

The warning bell going off in Hermione's head wouldn't shut up long enough to let her think.

"I was going to give you this in Defence," Kali said, her gaze going from paper to paper. She shook her head and set a book on the only empty space left on the table.

The leather binding rebooted Hermione's brain. "Kali—"

"I'll see you in class." She walked away without sparing Hermione a glance.

Hermione slumped in her chair, closed her eyes, and rubbed her forehead. Her stomach rebelled at the memory of Kali's expression, which had somehow looked worse than when Hermione had brought up Kali's dead mother.

With a sigh, Hermione tilted forward and grabbed the book.

European Languages of Law, Volume II.

A pink sticky note stuck out from between the pages. Hermione opened the book to that spot and found a chapter on the future perfect subjunctive. The note read, "I hope this helps," followed by a picture of Thoth with his ibis's head and moon disk losing a fight to an umbrella-wielding Ada Lovelace.

Hermione thumped her face against the yellowing pages.

Perhaps Professor Trelawney was right. If Hermione had any receptivity to the resonances of the future, she probably could have avoided that situation.

Hermione left the Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, her mind buzzing. Everyone chattered about the Boggart and reenacted their favourite moments, everyone except for Kali, who had failed to cast the Boggart-Banishing Spell.

Hermione couldn't blame her. Had the Boggart taken the form of her dying parents, she wasn't sure she could have thought of anything funny enough to dispel it either.

When Ron's legless spider had rolled over and over, it had come to a halt at Kali's feet. The Boggart had turned into Professor Lupin, sprawled on the floor, spread-eagled on his back, his eyes open and empty, a trickle of blood running down his face.

Kali had made a sound like a whimper, and the Boggart had shimmered and taken the shape of another dead body, that of Sirius Black, younger than he was in the photos Hermione had seen and far more handsome. The Boggart had shimmered again, and there had lain another dead body, that of a tall, broad-shouldered woman. The body had faded in and out of focus before shrinking into a slender woman with blood blossoming from her chest.

Lavender and Seamus had screamed the loudest when the woman's eyes had opened, unseeing yet looking directly at Kali. The Boggart had hissed in a voice that could not pass for human, "This is your fault."

Kali had tried to cast the spell, but when it failed, the Boggart started talking again, saying awful things. Kali had stumbled back, and the Boggart had turned its attention to Harry, at which point, Professor Lupin had called it a day. He had dismissed the class and asked Kali to stay behind for a moment.

"That was the best Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson we've ever had, wasn't it?" said Ron as they made their way back to the classroom to get their bags.

"He seems like a very good teacher," said Hermione. "But I wish I could have had a turn with the Boggart—"

"What would it have been for you?" Ron sniggered. "A piece of homework that only got nine out of ten?"

Hermione shot him a glare, but truth be told, she had no idea what her Boggart would be. When Professor Lupin had told the class to picture whatever scared them the most, Hermione's mind had come up blank, which, of course, had led to no small amount of panic. If she couldn't figure out what her greatest fear was, she wouldn't be able to think of something funny for it to turn into. She would fail in front of everyone, Professor Lupin would be disappointed, and she'd be embarrassed.

She had been relieved when the class had ended, but now she was curious.

"What about Kali's Boggart?" said Harry. "What was that about?"

"Yeah, whose greatest fear is of a teacher dying?" asked Ron. "Even if he is a cool teacher."

"Professor Lupin isn't just Kali's teacher. He's also her godfather and her guardian," said Hermione.

Ron's eyebrows shot up. "He is?"

They turned a corner and passed a painting of two knights sparring. "Her father's an escaped convict, and her mother died when Kali was younger. She has to live with someone."

The knights stopped clashing swords long enough to throw Old English insults at the passing students, none of which Hermione understood. Harry frowned at them before looking back at Hermione. "How do you know all this?"

"She told me." She tried to sound nonchalant, but the success of her reconnaissance mission had her holding her chin high. "We have Arithmancy together."

"I thought you didn't like her," said Ron.

Hermione shrugged. Kali Black was not what she had expected, but she didn't know her well enough to make a proper assessment yet, and if the library incident was any indication, she might not get the chance to.

"Hey, guys," said Neville, running up to them. He jumped when the painted knights started shouting their insults at him, too. "Have you seen Trevor? I can't find him."

"Honestly, Neville," said Ron, "why do you bring him everywhere when you always end up losing him?"

"He gets lonely up in the dorm room." Neville's gaze kept flicking to the angry knights. He edged to the right, putting some extra distance between him and them.

"He must still be in the staff room," said Harry.

"He was," said Kali, walking up to them with Trevor held between her hands.

"Trevor!" Neville cried as though it had been days since he had last seen the toad and not mere minutes. He rushed toward Kali but skidded to a halt at the last minute as he registered who stood in front of him. His cheeks turned pink, and his gaze wavered between Kali and Trevor.

Kali held out the toad. "Here."

With a loud swallow, Neville stepped forward and took the proffered amphibian, cradling him against his chest. "Thank you."

She nodded, but her gaze snapped to the rude painting when one of the knights called Neville a fopdoodle. She frowned as the knights jeered, and Harry took a small step toward her.

"Are you all right?"

Sharp grey eyes landed on him, and Hermione almost pulled him back by the collar of his robes. Traumatic Boggart or no, she was still the daughter of a man set on killing Harry, which meant that Harry shouldn't be the one doing reconnaissance or comfort missions.

"You looked a little shaken back there," he said.

Kali shrugged, but no insouciance made it into her eyes. "I have some issues I need to work through." She turned to Neville. "Why don't you tell your Head of House or the headmaster about it?"

"About what?" asked Neville. His cheeks veered from pink to red as he fidgeted, his eyes fixed on Trevor.

Kali either didn't notice how uncomfortable her unwavering attention made him, or she didn't care. "Snape."

"Oh, that. It's nothing."

"Boggarts turn into the thing you fear most in this world. That isn't nothing." Her brow creased. "This isn't you trying to be brave, is it? Because there's a difference between bravery and stupidity, and this falls into the second category."

"No, it's not. I'm fine, really," said Neville. He finally dared to glance up at her.

"Does he always do that? Bully you? All of you?"

Ron jumped in, so eager for Kali's attention that Hermione almost rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, all the time."

"And you're all right with that?" Kali asked.

Ron shrugged, managing a far better show of nonchalance than Hermione had this morning when she'd asked about Kali's parents. "We're used to it."

Blaise hailed Kali from the other side of the corridor. She backed toward him, leaving the Gryffindors with a small wave and the parting words, "You shouldn't have to be."

A/N: A fopdoodle is a funny-sounding word that is now obsolete but used to mean a stupid or insignificant person. As for that mention of the future perfect subjunctive, I wrote that scene when I was angry at my Spanish law homework for being uncooperative.

I hope you liked this chapter! Certain parts didn't flow as well as I would like them to, so if you have any tips on how to fix that, I'd love to hear them.