The morning doesn't bring better things.
Hermione is woken up at dawn by some commotion in the dorm. Her mind is still heavy with sleep and she's about to close her eyes and just drift off again when one of the girls shrieks.
"Oh my god, Janna!"
Hermione throws back the covers and jumps out of bed. Lily and four of the girls from the dorm are crowded around Janna's bed, but not too close – there's a chunky, off-yellow puddle at the foot of Janna's bed. Janna's head is leaning over the side of the bed and she lets out a painful groan.
"She woke me up about ten minutes ago," Lily says when she notices Hermione up. "Apparently she'd been screaming in her sleep and then she just leaned over and threw up everywhere."
Hermione has to fight to keep herself from throwing up too. The stench only hits her now, but it's overpowering. "Get her to the infirmary," Hermione tells the girl, the one whose voice had woken her up. Hermione tries hard to think of her name but can't remember it. She doesn't know the name of any of the girls in her dorm except Lily.
The girl nods and Hermione gets her wand from her bedside dresser and cleans up the mess. The other girls help Janna out of bed and disappear from the room.
Hermione wonders if she should go back to bed. A quick glance at the clock tells her that she'd only been asleep for three hours. She's about to suggest as much to Lily when one of the girls comes back.
"You guys better come down. It's chaos in the common room."
It looks like every single Gryffindor girl is awake and in the common room, and they're all panicking. Hermione notices a few crying and one is apparently having an asthma attack, but they're all talking loudly and quickly in panic.
"What in the world is going on?"
One of the girls hears Lily and shakes her head. "Something bad. Clara is in bed with such a high fever we can't even get her to stand up to walk to the infirmary, and apparently two other girls were taken there in the night."
"Goodness, that's quite the fever bug," Lily mutters, but the girl looks doubtful.
"I'm not sure. When Petra came back she said that those other girls who got sick yesterday are still there. What kind of fever bug is so strong that one of Madame Pomfrey's potions can't, like, wipe out overnight?"
The girl has a point. Madame Pomfrey isn't likely to be outdone by a mere fever. Unless perhaps this isn't one.
But the girl is quite the gossip and she steps closer to Lily and Hermione. The room is a cacophony of hysterical girls, but she still doesn't want any of them to listen in. "And I've overheard a few girls talking about how they've been having trouble casting spells lately. They haven't spoken up because they don't want the professors thinking they're, like, incompetent or anything, but even simple spells have gotten out of hand. You know what I think?" The girl looks around them and then mouths 'Dark Magic.'
"Don't be a fool," Lily snaps, maybe a bit too harshly. The girl's eyes widen and she takes a step back. "Of course fever causes diminished magical abilities. The body is tired and too focused on fighting the disease to concentrate properly on magic."
"That's just the thing, though," the girl stubbornly persists. "Those girls haven't, like, shown any signs of fevers. Cool as cucumbers."
The portrait swings open just then and Hermione looks up, hoping it's the girl who took Janna to the infirmary – one of Lily's kind of friends – so she can tell them more about the condition of the girls. But it's not Lily's friend, it's Professor McGonagall.
"What in the world is the meaning of this?" she shouts. The ruckus had started to subside the moment she walked in but the girls who didn't notice before hear her voice and immediately fall silent. Even one of the girls crying on the couch stops in mid-hiccup.
"A few more girls have fallen ill," Hermione speaks up when no one else does. "We're just worried as to the cause of the illness."
"Well cease your worrying this instant," McGonagall retorts, voice dry, though she thankfully directs this remark to the whole room. Her gaze lands on a girl still crying silently in the corner and she purses her lips at the sight. "Your friends are in good hands." Her voice is a bit softer now. "Madame Pomfrey is the most competent Healer in the country and will return the girls when she deems them healthy."
No one dares ask why it's taking so long to cure a mere fever.
"Now, are there any questions?"
Some girls shake their heads 'no' so quickly that Hermione is afraid their necks will snap.
"Good. Now all of you- Yes, Miss Castor?" McGonagall sounds annoyed to see the hand of the girl by Hermione tentatively rise into the air.
"W-well, it's just that Clara is really ill but we can't get her up to, you know, like, bring her to the infirmary. Professor," she adds quickly.
McGonagall sighs. "Very well. I will see that Miss Richy makes it to the infirmary. The rest of you, back to bed."
News of the night's commotion has spread faster than the disease itself, and by the time Lily and Hermione make it to breakfast the next morning – late and still exhausted – everyone is talking about it.
"McGonagall levitated Clara to the infirmary last night." Hermione hears the girl from last night, something Castor, telling her friends at the Ravenclaw table when they walk into the Great Hall. "It was so cool!"
At the Gryffindor table, however, the enthusiasm is much less. Hermione catches snippets of information as she sits on the bench by Remus. No one in the infirmary is getting better, Madame Pomfrey had to conjure up more beds to accommodate all of the sick, that Madame Pomfrey is at a total loss and none of her potions are having any effect. Hermione wonders how many of these are only speculations and rumor.
"The fevers aren't just contained to Gryffindors," James is saying. "Apparently a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs are sick as well. Only Slytherin has been immune so far."
"You two missed the announcement," Sirius says across the table, sitting beside James, "but the morning classes have just been cancelled."
Lily's eyebrows shoot up. "Maybe Madame Pomfrey isn't as confident in curing this epidemic as Professor McGonagall tried to make us believe last night."
"Have you gone to see the old bat?" James asks Lily, actual concern in his voice. "About… you know."
Hermione and Lily exchange a look. They'd talked about it this morning before coming down for breakfast. "No," Lily admits slowly. "Apparently, I'm not the only one it's happened to. We're thinking it may be linked to the fevers."
"Magical loss to that degree is not common, even with a high fever," Remus says.
The whole group jumps when Sirius slams his fist down on the table. Peter had been about to take a gulp of his drink and spills the orange juice all over his chest when he startles.
"Potion-resistant fever? Magical loss? You know what this sounds like to me? Dark Magic."
"I know most of the girls who're in the infirmary," Lily says, slowly, as if her thoughts are only coming to her now. "They're almost all Muggle-born. Only Janna isn't, but she's a Half-blood and her dad is a Squib."
"The Slytherin are immune, huh?" Sirius' voice sounds like a snarl. He's balled up the hand resting on the table into a fist, his fingers turning white. "Those bloody fucking Pure-blood fanatics!"
"Snivellus," James and Sirius spit out at the same time.
"No-good, dirty, greasy hairball," James adds.
"Now wait a second!" Lily snaps. Hermione turns to look at her and is surprised by the rage in her face and the hate she directs at Sirius and James. "You can't just go accusing people with no basis or solid proof."
"Oh, get off your high horse, Evans." This is quickly turning from mere speculation into something personal. "How can you still defend that bastard after what he called you?"
"I'm not defending him. I'm just saying you can't target him and his friends just because you don't like them. You don't know it's them."
"He's been going around calling people Mudbloods and using that slashing curse of his on Muggle-borns since you dumped his sorry arse." Sirius' voice is mounting out of control, but then James puts a hand on his arm and he lowers his voice again. "It's them. I know it's them. I can feel it."
"You just want any excuse to make them suffer," Lily snaps, unconvinced.
"Stop it, the three of you!" Hermione finally intervenes. Her head is spinning and she doesn't understand a word of what they're talking about, but she doesn't have to. Snape and his friends may not have become Death Eaters yet but she still knows better than the five of them what they're capable of. "Lily's right, we can't just go around accusing them of anything until we're sure. But," she throws Lily an apologetic smile, "it does smell like Dark Magic. And the Muggle-born victims make me think it's a Pure-blood ruse as well."
"I agree," Remus says quietly. "They're making people suffer for being different. And it's not right."
"No, it's not," Hermione agrees. She thinks of how Snape persecuted Remus in Hermione's third year and she feels her heart go out to him. He's had to put up this a thousand times over, in his childhood, now at Hogwarts, and again later when he'll enter the workforce after Voldemort's fall. "But how can a group of sixth year students come up with a spell or a potion strong enough to baffle the whole faculty?"
"Well, Snivellus is pretty good at potions," Sirius admits. The words come out painfully, like something in him dies at having to admit that.
"Good enough to pull the veil over Madame Pomfrey?" Hermione shakes her head.
"You-Know-Who." Hermione is surprised to hear Peter speak. He's been quietly following the conversation up until now. "They've all been boasting about how they can join him in another year. What if they already have?"
Hermione feels sick to her stomach. Can she never escape Voldemort's toxic influence? Another thought hits her then; has Peter already joined their ranks? What if he's laughing inside at their sorry attempts to figure everything out? If Hermione had wanted to hurt him before it's nothing to the nearly over-powering desire to do so now.
Her brain kicks into research mode, already begin to scroll through the Dark Magic spells that may fit the known symptoms. The only way she'll feel better is if they manage to put a stop to this. "We'll have to somehow listen in on their conversations, to see to what extent they're actually involved in this."
"We have to solve this?" Peter squeaks.
"Alright," Sirius grins. "I like how you think. Let's get some dirt on these scumbags and take them down!"
"Gabi, what makes you think we'll be able to do anything more if Professor McGonagall or Madame Promfrey… or even Professor Dumbledore, can't?"
Hermione shakes her head. "If students are involved in this it'll be the last place any of them look. Professor Dumbledore wants to believe the best in all of his students, and by the time the adults acknowledge that they have to begin questioning us it'll be too late." Hermione turns to Sirius, caught up in her thoughts on how to plan their best course of action. "If you can incapacitate three members of their group I can make a batch of Polyjuice potion and…" Hermione trails off when Sirius rolls his eyes and scoffs. James shoots him a look but Hermione already feels like a moron. Oh. Right. Of course they don't need any of that stuff.
"Just leave the field recon to us, Granger. You two," he nods at Lily, "can be the research team. Hit the books."
"I'll be on the research team, too." Sirius shoots Remus a dark look but Remus only shrugs. "I won't be of much help spying."
"Suit yourself," Sirius grumbles.
They've all finished their breakfasts so they agree to meet up at lunch and swap information.
"Evans, Professor Dumbledore wants all Prefects to stay behind."
"Oh great," Lily sighs. "We'll probably spend the whole morning calming down homesick first years. We'll meet you in the library as soon as we can, Gabi."
Hermione smiled sympathetically. She does not envy them that task. "No problem, I'll get a head start."
Hermione doesn't notice James follow her out of the Great Hall until she feels a hand on her shoulder.
"Hey," he grins, but there's a tilt to his smile that Hermione hasn't seen before. Is he nervous? "I know the situation is pretty dire and all right now, but we could totally hang out later? Maybe have a picn—"
"Absolutely not!" Hermione's anger from last night, temporarily cast away in light of what had happened but not forgotten, comes surging back. She shudders at the memory of that horrible feeling of being lifted up and defying gravity, like her stomach is floating unanchored from her body. "And don't you dare sweep me off my feet like that ever again!"
The timid tilt in James' smile is gone, but not the smile itself. Hermione wonders if he even understands rejection. "So," he draws out the word, and Hermione knows she won't like what she's about to hear. "Does this mean I can sweep you off your feet in a different way?"
He is just too cocky! Hermione throws her hands up and lets out of a frustrated "Argh!" Then she turns on her heel and stomps away.
She so doesn't have time for this right now.
Hermione stops by the common room first to grab some writing material – three rolls of parchment, ink and a quill – before heading over to the library. With classes having been cancelled the library is busier than usual, but Hermione makes a beeline for the Magical Illnesses section. It's one of the last aisles buried in the back, by the Restricted Section, where rarely anyone ever ventures except for a quick snogging session.
She inspects the spines as she walks down the aisle, pulling a book off the shelf when the title sounds promising. She inspects the table of contents and either adds it to the growing stack of books floating along behind her or puts it back on the shelf. She's halfway down the aisle when she sees the title Time Travelling and Magical Illnesses: The Hope of a Better Past. Hermione's pulse races with excitement. She eagerly grabs the book off the shelf and makes for the little table at the end of the aisle. This is Hermione's favorite place to study since students never come back this far. It's large enough to seat four, but since Hermione is usually there alone, or with Lily, she can spread out and take as much room as she needs.
She lets the levitated books down gently on the table and then attacks the tome in her hands.
Nothing.
It turns out to be one long, boring lecture about the risks of bringing newly-discovered cures to the past to try and save loved ones. There's nothing about anyone going too far back in time and getting stuck there, nothing about a time-turner malfunctioning. Hermione is disgustedly disappointed and she returns the book to the shelf with a heavy heart.
Hermione is starting on the second book on Magical Illnesses when Remus finds her. He sits without a word and grabs the topmost book off of Hermione's research pile.
They study quietly like that for an hour. Hermione closes the book and stretches out her legs, and then she stands to get the blood flow moving back through her body. She knows that taking regular breaks of five minutes or so is recommended when sitting for so long, but Hermione usually loses track of time when she's studying.
She paces the nearest aisle and returns just as Remus is closing his first book. "Nothing useful," he reports with a long sigh.
Hermione sits back down. "Where's Lily?"
"They broke us up into different groups. So far no one else has fallen sick, but no one seems to be getting better, either. Taking care of all of the sick students is too much work for Madame Pomfrey on her own so we're operating on a rotating system until further notice. Lily is on until lunch and then she'll be relieved by another group. I'm after dinner. A few students came forward and told Professor Dumbledore about their loss of magical abilities so they've been put into a separate ward for now."
"They didn't isolate Lily?"
"She didn't say anything was wrong with her. She doesn't want to be useless."
Hermione smiles softly. She can understand that feeling. She picks up the next book off of the pile and runs her finger down the cover. "How do you think they'll do it? Without the Polyjuice?"
Remus shrugs. "Sirius and James are very innovative when they put their minds to it. They'll think of something clever."
Hermione smiles – answering her without actually saying anything. She didn't really think Remus would tell her about their animagus forms, but she wanted to test his abilities to avoid the subject. He certainly has had a lot of practice. She wonders if, as a Prefect, he uses it a lot on Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore when he's unable to restrain his friends from causing trouble: dismissively praising when he knows they're up to something but he wasn't there so he can't be held accountable for not stopping them. It's a clever tactic.
She watches Remus open his next book and she speaks up without thinking. "Sirius doesn't seem to like me very much."
Remus shrugs, not even looking up from his book. "Sirius has trust issues and you're a newcomer. He's suspicious. He'll warm up to you, already has. He likes that you want to crack this case." He's starting to read and Hermione needs to act fast before he gets too absorbed in the words.
"Well," she tries to sound pensive, dismissive, like her words aren't too weighted or loaded. "I suppose you'd know him best. You two seem closer than you are with James."
Hermione's operating on a hunch – the heads bent close together, the laughter, the bickering, the sudden seating change – but the way Remus suddenly looks up from his book sends a thrill through Hermione. He doesn't look embarrassed but he looks uncomfortable. This could mean so many things. "James and Sirius are best friends."
Hermione nods like she believes him. And she does believe him. But James and Sirius being best friends doesn't refute her statement either. Remus is clever like that. But Hermione is clever too. "Of course." She smiles to placate him. Remus looks at her for a little bit longer, then nods and returns to his book. Hermione chews the inside of her lip to keep herself from grinning. She will get to the bottom of this mystery, she vows.
They study without speaking again right up until lunchtime.