X.

Hermione returned:

The brown, bushy-haired girl sat on the hospital bed, adrift in a sea of white, staring at her hands as though they were the only thing that anchored her to the world. She flexed her fingers, watching the play of tendons across bones, listening to the soft pop of her knuckles.

"Miss Granger?"

The girl glanced through the soft puff of her hair at where an old man sat beside her bed. He had been speaking to her for several minutes now, asking questions. He would pause and then the silence of the Hospital would drift between them again. The clink of potion bottles and scratch of a pen as Madame Pomphrey conducted inventory. The soft restless twist of the man as he leaned forward.

"Miss Granger, if you won't speak to me, would you like to see your friends?"

The girl gave one, sharp nod, and her hands clenched in her blankets.

. . . . . .

"What do you mean, I can't see her!" Dorothea cried in evident distress. Beside her, Ron was looking positively mutinous as he glared up at the Hospital. The older man sighed. Clearly, when he had sent Professor McGonagall to the Gryffindor Tower to collect Hermione's friend, he had intended only Ron to be summoned. But Dorothea, who had decided to lend Ron her Nimbus 2000 for the foreseeable future, had also been present and McGonagall hadn't bothered to edit her message.

"We simply do not want to over-excite Ms. Granger." Professor Dumbledore said simply, "Your appearance, Harry, might alarm her over-much."

Dorothea compressed her lips into a tight line and refrained, with difficulty, from correcting the older man. She was, at the moment, Dorothea Nott. Referring to him as Harry was nothing short of aggravating.

"I insist." She said simply. "Hermione is my friend. She won't mind whatever appearance I wear." Or so she hoped. The Headmaster gave her a calculating look and then relented.

. . . . . . .

"Well, you look alright," Ron said with evident relief as he took a seat with Dorathea next to the hospital bed. They had both arrived with gifts- Ron had brought some of his Christmas chocolate and Thea brought the book she had picked out for Hermione in Diagon Alley.

Personally, Thea didn't think Hermione looked alright. The girl had lost weight during her sojourn in the hospital and her face was pale. Her usual efficient and cheerful nature was nowhere to be found. Dorathea reached forward and took Hermione's hand.

"We've missed you," She said softly and meant it, "There have been a lot of changes since you've been gone-"

A fortnight ago- though it seemed so much longer- Harry had caught a glance of Hermione sprouting dark fur at the same time as his features shifted to those of Dorathea. Ron had helped Hermione to the hospital wing while Harry had waited in the bathroom, but the two friends hadn't seen each other face to face until now.

Dorathea hoped that they would still be friends. Harry hadn't had many during his short career at Hogwarts and Dorathea, now that Ron had become more acquaintance than a friend, had even fewer. None, if Theo counted as a brother instead of a friend.

Hermione didn't respond, except for a small sigh and Dorathea bit her lip.

"Tell me about it!" Ron said, as though there hadn't been the awkward pause. He scooted his chair closer and forced excitement into his voice, "You've been gone, Harry's a girl and acting all weird, and I'm pretty sure Malfoy isn't the heir of Slytherin after all!"

"How did you come to that conclusion?" Dorothea said, hiding a frown. She wasn't acting all weird. She just wasn't Harry. But she was too grateful for Ron's contribution to the conversation to be annoyed with him. Under her curious gaze, Ron settled back in his chair with a self-satisfied grin.

"Well, I was thinking about it and talking to Percy of all things." Ron must really have been starved for company if he was willingly seeking out his least favorite brother, Thea thought. Or he was bored of being pranked by the twins. "And he suggested we look up some genealogy charts in the library- so I did. Did you know that Zach Smith- the Hufflepuff - is actually related to Helga Hufflepuff? Ironic right? Anyways, Slytherin's line died out ages ago with some family called the Gaunts."

Dorathea reflected absently that ages ago could mean centuries or a few dozen years to Ron. Still, she gave him an approving glance.

"That was well reasoned, Ron," She said, watching Hermione out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't be certain, but Hermione seemed to be listening in to their conversation, "So Malfoy can't be the Slytherin's heir. Apparently, no one can. Yet, someone is claiming to be?"

Ron nodded eagerly, "Yep. And here is my theory. The Gaunt's didn't actually die out! They actually had a kid that they hid- from everyone. Maybe in the Muggle world." Dorothea flinched as the fostering motif came up again. How many children had been fostered among the Muggles anyways?

"Or," Dorathea said softly, "Someone knew the myth of Slytherin and is banking on our shared knowledge to confuse us. So anyone with access to a petrification spell and a Muggleborn prejudice could be a victim."

Ron visibly deflated and, despite the inherent logic of her own argument, Dorathea couldn't help but ask him who he thought the secret Gaunt heir might be.

"Tracy Davis!" Ron announced triumphantly and Dorathea was ashamed to admit that it took her a moment to put a face to the name. When the tall, sulking Slytherin appeared in her head, she laughed.

"Davis? Why!"

Ron crossed his arms over his chest and frowned, "She's the only Half-blood in Slytherin. It has to be her."

Dorathea doubted that Davis was the only Halfblood in all of Slytherin and doubted even more that she was the Heir of Slytherin, but she kept her doubts to her self and promised to ask Theo that evening.

. . . . . . .

"Hermione didn't say anything. Not the entire time that we were talking." Thea complained to her brother as they ate dinner in the kitchen. Euphie had taken over making dinners, not that Dorathea minded, but both Nott's refused to sit in one of the grand dining rooms. The cozy comfort of the kitchen was enough for them.

"Well, if it was the magical backlash from your appearance in Hogwarts, it's hard to know what the effects might be," Theo said, ripping off a piece of bread. Dorathea sighed. Most of the time her double life didn't interfere with her new life. But times like this, she wished she could just tell Theo everything. Instead, she had elaborated on the story of her sudden appearance in Hogwarts where Ron and Hermione were her first introduction to the Wizarding world. Theo mostly accepted her loyalty to them based on that, but she knew her concern over a girl she apparently met once confused him.

"True," She said slowly, drawing the word out as she leaned her crossed her arms on the table and rested her head on her arms. "But I still want to talk to her."

Theo looked uncomfortable, "Maybe it's for the best. Magic happens for a reason, after all." Thea gave her brother a curious glance at the harshness in his voice but didn't protest and soon their conversation drifted to the oncoming start of school.

. . . . . . .

A/N: This will be the last time I mention this: this story is entirely unplotted and rather fluffy. I am as astonished as you are that it is holding together as well as it is. That said, I am absolutely open to hearing suggestions for what you might like to see. If it sparks some inspiration, I will absolutely credit you. Thank you already to everyone who has pointed out inconsistencies in the story!

As always, your reviews, follows, and favs brighten my day!