Chapter 8 - Guilty Until Proven Innocent
"Did you hear about the troll?"
"Harry Potter blew off its eye!"
"And Hermione Granger ripped off its hand to save him!"
"He's the Boy-Who-Lived!"
"And she's the brightest witch since Albus Dumbledore himself!"
"Oooh!"
It was ever so annoying, but things had changed since the troll incident. Firstly, Hermione had become something of a celebrity. Apparently, being the brightest in the class was all well and good, but dismembering a troll was what was truly impressive. People would whisper wherever she walked and gawk at her like she was some kind of exotic animal. She'd been asked out by no less than three boys, including the blood purist wanker Vincent Crabbe of all people. She'd turned them all down of course, she only had eyes for Ronald Weasley, but that brought her to the second change.
"Of course she turned them down silly, isn't it obvious- she's in love with Harry Potter!"
Hermione scowled. The unfounded rumors! Apparently she and Ginny were both desperately in love with Harry Potter, ridiculous! There were rumors about Hermione and Harry, about Ginny and Harry, about Ron and Harry, even about Ginny and Hermione, but not a single blasted rumor about Hermione and Ron. Why? Was it not obvious? Only a dunderhead could miss something so patently clear! Hermione had even tried to start the rumor herself (she'd sent an anonymous note to Daphne in Charms) and the dumb dunderhead had laughed and said it was impossible that the Hermione Granger could possibly be in love with some clod like Ron Weasley. How could anyone be so infuriuratingly stupid? But then, these were the people who acted like she and Harry were geniuses when it had obviously been Ron and Draco who had saved the day. Draco for getting a professor and Ron for calling for help. Hermione had done the single most foolish thing in her life and everyone was worshipping her for it. Hermione sniffed.
Draco wasn't getting near the credit he deserved. He'd made himself scarce since the incident, and she still hadn't had the opportunity to thank him. The one time she'd tried, he'd just spluttered that he didn't know what she was talking about and threatened to curse her.
And that brought her to the final change. Ginny and Ron weren't speaking to one another, so Ginny had asked Hermione to return Ron's pet rat Scabbers for her. Scabbers the murderer. Hermione had agreed of course, it was an excuse to talk to Ron, but she did feel quite bad about it.
"Ginny wanted me to return this to you," Hermione said, handing Ron his pet back, taking a seat next to him. Harry was on the opposite side of the Gryffindor Table, surrounded by a horde of beautiful older witches. "Why aren't you sitting with Harry?"
"Scabbers!" Ron said happily, giving the rat a few treats before his expression soured. "Harry Potter? I should've known. Why else would the great Hermione Granger- the best student since Albus bloody Dumbledore- talk to Mediocre Ron Weasley except as an excuse to get close to the Boy-Who-Lived, the Slayer of Troll Eyes? Well me and Harry are through, so you can save yourself the trouble of pretending like you want to be my friend."
"Don't be daft Ronald," snapped Hermione sharply, getting a bit angry. "I really do want to be friends with you. I would only act like I liked somebody if I actually liked them." Hermione clucked impatiently. Harry was staring at the two of them like a kicked puppy, looking quite lonely, despite being surrounded by pretty older witches. "And you didn't answer my question. What's going on between you and Harry?"
"I've just realized that we're not a good match. He's a bit of a braggart really. He's already famous, but then he had to go and become seeker and go and take on a troll. It can never be enough for him." Ron stabbed his fork into his yogurt, causing it to plop onto the boy he was sitting next to. Hermione jumped in fright, it was her nemesis, the evil Neville Longbottom.
"I see. I think I get it." Hermione pursed her lips. She eyed Evil Neville warily, sitting conveniently close to Pure Ronald. The roundish boy must've been whispering poison into Innocent Ron's ears, getting Poor Ronald all mixed up, believing the worst in others and himself. Hermione wrinkled her nose- she was the only one who saw through Neville's mask of incompetence, to the devious mastermind capable of outmaneuvering even herself. He'd made her so angry, he'd even managed to goad her into calling herself the g-word. Out loud. How very embarrassing! Neville truly did bring out the worst in people. "You know Ronald, if you hadn't called for help we all would have been killed. It was truly very responsible of you. You Ronald- not me, not Harry, not Ginny- are a true hero."
Ron scowled at her. "Ickle Ronniekins, the king of tattletales. It's just like the Twins always say, crying for help is all I'm good fo-"
"You shouldn't ever listen to those horrid brothers of yours," snapped Hermione angrily. "It's no wonder you're so confused all the time."
"Yeah well, maybe you're right," said Ron, his face growing rather red. "Maybe I shouldn't listen to 'em. After all, they told me I did the right thing this time. Sounded just like you really. They said that trying to take on a troll was just stupid and calling for help was the only reasonable thing to do. Bet they wouldn't have told that to Ginny. Or Bill. Or Charlie. Or Percy. Or Harry. Definitely not you- you're the best bloody witch since Albus Dumbledore."
"Thank you Ronald," Hermione said happily, wait- no, she'd only been reacting to his compliment, not all the rest of what he'd said. She glared at Evil Neville. This was all his fault somehow, she just knew it!
Neville ate his yogurt as if she wasn't there, pretending to be oblivious. Hermione scowled.
"Embarrassed to be seen with Neville?" Asked Ron nastily. "He's not good enough for you, eh? Well neither am I, you don't have to pretend otherwise. Just go sit with Harry, like all the other pretty witches."
"Fine," Hermione snapped. "Fine. I don't know what's gotten into you Ronald, but I can see you're in no mood to be reasonable, and I shan't keep trying forever. Oh and Headmaster Dumbledore didn't compare me to himself, you ought not just repeat what everyone says. You were there, he said I was the next Tom Riddle." She slammed the table for good measure, trying to get Neville to jump in fright and succeeding. Then she stalked off angrily, bemoaning her horrible fate, to have fallen for such an impossible man. Surely there was nobody, in the history of ever, whose sorrows could possibly hope to match hers!
That afternoon Professor Quirrell taught them about Azkaban.
"That's horrible," Hermione cried, interrupting the class before she could stop herself. "What if you sent someone innocent there? They'd be mad by the time they were let go!"
"Your intelligence often makes me forget your unfortunate ignorance," said Professor Quirrell, smiling thinly. "You see Miss Granger, the magical world's judicial system is… conservative… when it comes to assessing guilt. Many would say that all you need to escape Azkaban is claim you were under the imperius while you committed any wrongdoing."
Ginny snorted, and coughed something that sounded an awful lot like, "Malfoy."
"You'll regret that Weasley!" Draco shouted, flecks of spit splattering on the smooth white table. "I don't care how good you are on a broomstick, no one insults my father- I'll make you and your entire family of filthy blood traitors pay!"
"Probably by saving her life again," Daphne whispered to Tracey Davis. The class erupted into giggles.
"Shut up Greengrass!" Shouted Draco and Ginny at the same time. The two blinked, glared at one another, and slammed into their seats red-faced. Ever so adorable! Still, Draco and Ginny looked like they might explode, and Hermione had vowed to be kinder to the two of them, so she decided to get the class back on track.
"But false testimony shouldn't be possible in the magical world," Hermione said, not quite meeting Professor Quirrell's cold gaze. "The accused could be given veritaseum. And before you tell me about obliviation and false memory charms, wouldn't a skilled legilimens be able to spot such things?"
"Yes, you are quite correct Miss Granger," said Professor Quirrell, sounding amused. "But such methods are not used in most trials. The ministry values privacy above security… Well, in most situations anyways. There is always the case of Sirius Black, who was sent to Azkaban without a trial, but even Albus Dumbledore agreed with the ruling so I suppose he must have been guilty."
From there, Professor Quirrell lectured on the Dementor's Kiss and parallels to muggle systems old and new, and asked them to write an essay on whether administering the cruciatus curse on those considered guilty of lesser crimes might be more humane than a short sentence in Azkaban. All very interesting, as all of Professor Quirrell's classes were- but the first thing Hermione did after class was look up everything she could find on Sirius Black.
Sirius Black had once been in the Order of the Phoenix. He'd betrayed his best friend James Potter to Lord Voldemort, and killed Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles with a powerful explosion charm. All that had been left of Peter was a thumb. Just as Professor Quirrell had said, Headmaster Dumbledore hadn't argued that Black be put on trial. Black had come from a family of blood purists, and his younger brother Regulus had been a known death eater. The case seemed open and shut, but something about it felt…
Familiar.
But that was ridiculous, Pettigrew- in his bravest moment- had confronted Black, had said he'd betrayed James and Lily to the Dark Lord. And then he'd been blown to bits. Nothing left but a thumb… But wouldn't there have been other bits if he'd been exploded? A stray intestine, perhaps a tooth?
…And why would Pettigrew have confronted Black in the first place? If he'd been so set on revenge, why not attack the man when his back was turned? Twas only rational to be underhanded in such a situation, it certainly made far more sense than taking time to shout your intentions in the middle of a crowded street… Of course...
It all could have been fabricated. Just as she'd realized Madam Pomfrey's note proclaiming Scabbers a normal rat could have been the result of a confundus charm. If Peter Pettigrew could turn into a rat, he could've bitten off his finger, and escaped in the explosion. And why would Black, after blowing up Peter, just sit around laughing, until the aurors caught him? Because he was loony? That explanation seemed rather weak. But if a death eater really had sold out the Potters, why, they'd be in quite the conundrum wouldn't they? They'd betrayed the Order of the Phoenix, and they'd inadvertently caused the Dark Lord's downfall. Enemies all around.
Lucky!
Where had that thought come from? Had she gone completely mad? That would be simply terrible… Terribly fun!... No, it would be horrible! And it would require quite devious behavior to escape such a situation. What would she do if it were her? She'd find someone to frame and then fake her own death. Move to Australia, create a fake identity, get some off-the-record plastic surgery. Create a new life. But as a rat? No. That was stupid. She was overthinking things.
Unless Scabbers just happened to be ten years old and just happened to have a missing thumb her silly little hypothesis was dead in the water.
That night she learned from Ginny that Scabbers was ten years old. The next morning she found that Scabbers was missing a thumb.
"What are you so happy about?" Ron asked moodily, petting little Peter Pettigrew.
"Oh nothing," Hermione said, humming. "I'm just being silly."
If she turned in the killer, her heritage would surely be revealed, and she'd become a social pariah in Slytherin. Oh that would be ever so dreadful, why whatever would she do? The possibilities were all so, so… what was the word?
Intriguing.
Oh, if such a thing were to come to pass Hogwarts would be ever so fascinating again.
XOXOXOXOX
Snape slid his index finger across the bottom of one of the desks in the Potions Classroom. He inspected his finger thoroughly, and scowled. "Too clean Potter. Only a fool would want his class completely sterile. Five points from Gryffindor. I should give you another detention for such shoddy work, but alas, I find my patience wearing thin... Well, what are you waiting for? Get out."
Harry wasn't about to argue with that. He hurried out of the Potions Classroom but found himself lingering as he always did in the dungeons. He kept hoping he'd run across Hermione. He hadn't gotten the chance to thank her for saving his life when they'd been fighting the troll. Maybe he should just work up the courage and just go talk to her- but she only seemed interested in Ron, and since he and Ron were having a row, she'd probably just take Ron's side- whatever that was. Harry hadn't the slightest clue why Ron was angry.
"... rip… tear… kill…"
It was that cold murderous voice again.
"... so hungry… for so long…"
It was growing fainter. Like it was moving. Harry chased after it.
"... kill… time to kill…"
Harry pushed past a crowd of Slytherins, as he rushed along the hallways, desperate to catch the voice. It was going to kill someone.
"... I smell blood… I smell blood… I SMELL BLOOD!"
Harry rushed around another corner, sprinted across a hall and up two flights of stairs, until he stopped at an almost deserted passageway.
"Expelliarmus!" Hermione Granger's wand flew into Ginny Weasley's outstretched hand.
"Give me my wand back Ginny!" Hermione screamed shrilly.
"No, you'll just curse Neville again."
Neville Longbottom was belching slugs onto a puddle of water on the floor.
"And he'll deserve it," Hermione said angrily. "Writing those awful things on the wall. Petrifying poor Missus Norris."
Harry's gaze drifted upwards. Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring. Beneath the cat was a message, written in foothigh red letters.
THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. GIVE THE HEIR HIS DESIRE, OR THE MUDBLOODS WILL SUFFER HIS WRATH.
It was then that all the Slytherins chasing after Harry arrived. Many thought he'd done it. Especially Snape. However, most thought it was Hermione Granger, the most brilliant first year since Albus Dumbledore, who'd been the first at the scene of the crime and immediately tried to shift the blame onto Neville Longbottom.
It didn't help that when Quirrell arrived, Hermione asked him shrilly, "And where were you, when all this was happening Professor Quirrell? Off doing who knows what I expect, just like with the troll!"
Professor Quirrell smiled thinly at her accusation, and nodded to Dumbledore. "Actually, Miss Granger, I was having a lovely chat with the headmaster."
"Oh," Hermione blushed. "Err… I'm very sorry professor. Then as I said before, it was clearly the evil Neville Longbottom. Always so cunning and clever- it's patently obvious that he's the culprit! Just look at his horrible track record, why I'm quite sure that Professor Snape can attest to all the innocent cauldrons Longbottom has murdered- clearly a sign of powerful dark magic!"
"Would you lay off Neville?" Ginny asked angrily. "You're so eager to accuse everyone else. How do we know it wasn't you?"
"Didn't you see what he wrote about mud-" Hermione ground to a halt, and glanced around shiftily like she'd almost been caught in a lie. "Don't be daft Ginny. It wasn't me. Now I don't know about you, but I find myself quite exhausted by all these exciting events. Off to bed I go." With that, she bustled away, her face completely flushed.
Ginny and Harry helped Neville to the Hospital Wing. When Harry returned to the Gryffindor Common Room he was greeted with silence. Dean Thomas eyed him suspiciously, and all the older witches who'd been so eager to be around him had mysteriously vanished. Harry sighed and went up to bed, he'd known his popularity wouldn't last, and frankly he wasn't sad to see it go. What concerned him more was how Hermione had treated Neville. It reminded him too much of the Dursleys. Maybe he'd misjudged her afterall.
"So," said Ron eagerly. "Who do you think it was? Tell me everything!"
Harry frowned. Ron had refused to speak to him for the better part of a week- he'd been a right prat, and he'd never even told Harry why. But…
Harry smiled, he was happy to have his friend back. Harry told Ron what had happened. "I think it was Hermione," Harry admitted. "You should've seen how she looked at Nev-"
Ron smacked Harry lightly on the head. "Don't be an idiot Harry. It couldn't be Hermione- she's a she not a he, and why would Hermione want to attack muggleborns? I reckon the Heir was trying to attack her in the first place, and just got Missus Norris by mistake. And I'm not saying it's Neville either, I'm not a complete loon. She just hates Neville like you hate Malfoy- something about a toad I think. We should talk to her tomorrow, I don't think she'll get spooked out like when we were investigating the murder- not when her reputation is on the line."
He and Ron stayed up late into the night discussing the Heir of Slytherin, and then catching up on quidditch practice, and then just joking around and making up for the week of friendship they'd lost.
The next morning Dumbledore announced that the Minister of Magic would be visiting Hogwarts in a week.
XOXOXOXOX
Omake (This is a scene I wanted to include, but I couldn't figure out where to put it in the timeline.)
"Mine is of course the compact disc of the Second Edition Oxford Dictionary," Hermione said proudly, handing Ron a shiny disc.
Ron turned it over in wonder. Muggle things were totally wicked. Even Scabbers seemed interested. He had no idea what it did. "It's so small."
"Indeed," Hermione said. "Mum's an alumni, so she was able to get me a copy. The principal dictionary of the entire history of the English language, all packed into a polycarbonate disc. In its paper form it would be 21,728 pages long, spread across 20 volumes."
"Blimey, this is a book," Ron said, tossing it back to Hermione. "And here I thought it was something cool!"
"Book's are cool Ronald." Hermione huffed, delicately clicking the compact disc back into its container. "Indeed, books are what ensures progress from one generation to the next. Many historians think that the invention of the European Printing Press, and the resulting proliferation of books is the root cause of The Great Acceleratio-"
"Mine is the ring Gran gave me," Neville said quickly, showing off his ring finger. "It used to be my dad's. She told me to always wear it, so I could remember what being a wizard is all about."
"Oy mate, what's that in your pocket?" Asked Ron.
Neville blushed. "Gran makes me keep it on me. It's a remembrall," he muttered. The glass ball filled with red smoke. "Of course, it never helps, cuz I can't remember what I've forgotten."
Yeah, it seemed kinda dumb. "That's cool," Ron said kindly, as Neville handed him the orb. It filled with red smoke as soon as his hand touched the glass, and just like Neville said, he had no idea what it was on about. What a bloody useless thing.
Harry took the orb. "It's wicked Neville. I'm sure your Gran must really care about you." The remembrall filled with smoke.
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "It seems a rather useless invention. Give it here." She took the remembrall, and the smoke vanished. Hermione knitted her eyebrows, then after mulling it over, smiled brightly. "I had thought it might be a trick. I mean- everyone must have forgotten at least one thing right? I had thought that perhaps it filled with smoke upon contact, but I suppose…" Hermione glanced at Ron. "I do have a rather good memory. I can't recall forgetting anything. But having an Eidetic Memory is so rare, and has nothing to do with intelligence you see, and do you even know what it is? Why it's the muggle equivalent of being a parseltongue for Merlin's sake. It means I could flip through a book, and recall every word, and…"
The remembrall had filled with red smoke as Hermione boasted about her perfect memory.
Neville chuckled, and took back his remembrall.
Hermione huffed. "I was saying that I didn't think that I had an Eidetic Memory! Can you lot not listen?"
"Mine is my wand," Ginny said. "Boring, I know, but it costs a lot and Mum and Dad bought it for me anyways."
Ron swallowed.
"Not that diary you're always writing in?" Hermione asked.
"What are you talking about Hermione?" Ginny squeaked. "I don't have a diary."
"But I see you writing in it all the time," Hermione said. "With such intensity too! It's nothing to be ashamed of Ginny. You needn't fear that I'll read it. I think what you're doing is wonderful. As I said before, few have a perfect memory. Years from now you'll surely be glad you kept a diary, as you'll be able to look back and see how much you've grown!"
"That sounds great and all, but there's one problem. I don't have a diary!"
"Just because it says T.M. Riddle on it doesn't mean it isn't yours!"
"You've been looking through my things!"
"So you admit it then!"
Hermione and Ginny kept arguing, and Ron pretended not to notice as Harry slipped off before showing anyone what the favorite thing his parents had ever given him was.
Author's Notes: Thanks for reading! And now, onto the reviews:
ViviTheFolle - Thanks for sharing all that! Ron's definitely the most human character in the series and this story. A relatively normal person surrounded by geniuses and heroes, it'd be enough to drive anyone crazy. He was initially the MC of the story, but it ended up being a little gloomy which wasn't the tone I wanted in the story so I switched the perspective to Hermione. Thanks for the review!
Guest - Hermione's infatuation with Ron is pretty shallow at this point for sure. Harry is siding with an argument, not a person, if Ginny were arguing Ron's points Harry would have sided with Ron. Thanks for the review!
Iwik - Hermione's not a sociopath. Glad you liked the Ron stuff, because more is coming down the road! Thanks for the review!