Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. However, during the full moon, Harry Potter is…still owned by JK Rowling.
A/N: Wow, it looks like my last chapter really struck a chord. I was blown away by all the detailed reviews it received, for which I am very grateful. I have taken several of your suggestions to heart and will work them into the story in the coming chapters, but I also caution patience. Hermione is barely fourteen, and she has a lot of stuff to deal with that most girls never do. She'll come into her own in good time.
And as for Rebecca Gamp…watch out. She's cleverer than she looks.
Also, His Mother's Love is now complete. Chapter 9 has been posted. Stay tuned because a new novella may be coming soon.
Chapter 46
The thirtieth of September came around, and Hermione was ready. Professors Sinistra, Vector, and Babbling put their heads together and figured out what time the moon would rise according to the Hogwarts clocks. The calculations would only be accurate a month in advance, but it was good enough. At the correct time, Hermione listened intently at her window. She didn't hear any howling, but that didn't prove anything. Professor Lupin—or any other werewolf, for that matter—could simply be too far away to hear.
The real proof came the next morning, when the class was seated for Defence, and in through the doors walked not Professor Lupin, but Professor Snape, his black robes billowing behind him. (How does he get them to do that? Hermione wondered.) Apparently, Professor Lupin was ill. She had no idea how Snape had time to teach Defence, since he was also teaching his own core class, but teach Defence he did, and he was even more unpleasant than usual…and obsessed with werewolves.
Hermione nearly broke down when Snape called her an insufferable know-it-all. She knew she had a tendency to be overzealous, and to answer questions out of turn, but that was uncalled for. The ironic thing was that Ron called her a know-it-all about twice a week, and he was the one defending her. With Ron, though, she understood the spirit he meant it in, but she couldn't bear that kind of insult from a teacher, even one she didn't like to begin with. It was like primary school all over again—the bad years. She thought it was sweet of Ron, though she would have preferred he not get detention on her account.
Her real consolation was adding the incident to her list of complaints against Snape. She was trying to be fair and only record incidents that would be unambiguously unacceptable in a muggle school, but even so, that list was becoming somewhat alarming, whereas all the other teachers (she recorded for comparison) were at least mostly professional. Yes, Snape would get his soon enough. She allowed herself a knowing smile afterwards. It was time someone cut him down to size.
By Monday, Professor Lupin was back and looked as well as he ever did. He cancelled the long essay on werewolves that Snape had ordered and went back to his planned syllabus, to general relief, although Hermione felt like she'd wasted her time writing it.
She only had a few minutes before she had to get to Ancient Runes, but she told Ron to go on ahead of her and stayed behind to speak to Professor Lupin after class.
"Can I help you, Hermione?" he said.
"I just wanted to let you know, I though what Professor Snape did was really unfair…"
"Well, of course, skipping to the end of the book like that when he knew you weren't ready—"
"Not about that, Professor. I mean, well, he didn't actually come out against werewolves, but it was pretty clear how much he dislikes them. And it's not fair because most werewolves never did anything wrong. They're just sick, and they're perfectly safe most of the time. They shouldn't be treated like animals just because of that, and a lot of the books basically say they are."
Professor Lupin froze up when Hermione started rattling off her views on werewolves, but he made the connection easily, and he was pleasantly surprised to hear she was being so tolerant. "That's kind of you to say, Hermione," he replied softly. "Unfortunately, in most of the wizarding world, that is how people think."
"Well, I'm a muggle-born, Professor, and where I come from…well, I guess we do have something similar with AIDS, but at least people are coming around on that."
"True. Very true. I know a little about that issue," Lupin said. "Well, I imagine for someone with your intelligence, it was obvious why Professor Snape assigned that essay."
Hermione bit her lip nervously. Professor Lupin raised his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly, waiting for a response. "Actually, Professor," she said, "I figured it out a week after school started. I saw the moon phase in the first Astronomy class, and my brain kind of did the rest."
Lupin chuckled softly. "I should have known," he mused. "With a mind like yours, that's only to be expected. Although I have to ask, do you think anyone else has figured it out?"
"I don't think so, sir, or else they'd be talking about it. Honestly, they all seem pretty obtuse about it—Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. You're the only good Defence teacher we've had so far, and you don't deserve that."
Her teacher smiled. "You know, you remind me very much of an old friend of mine, Hermione…she was also a muggle-born, and very bright, and very kind…you wouldn't know her. She died in the war."
"I'm sorry, Professor."
"Well, such is life. But I do appreciate your sentiments. Not many witches and wizards are willing to associate with werewolves."
"Well, most witches and wizards don't think much of house elves, ghosts, or squibs either, and I can say from experience that they don't know what they're missing," Hermione said.
Lupin chuckled again. "A wise sentiment. Well, you'd better get going. I'll write you a note in case you're late."
"Thank you, sir."
"Hermione, keep your stupid cat away from Scabbers!"
"He's not stupid, Ronald. He's very clever. You just don't approve of his lifestyle choices. Crookshanks…Crookshanks, come here."
"Lifestyle choices? He keeps trying to eat Scabbers!" Ron yelled, trying to fish his squirming rat out from under a sofa in the Common Room.
Hermione managed to grab the equally squirming Crookshanks around the middle and lift him up. The cat continued to glare at Ron. "He likes to catch his own food. It's healthier for him, anyway. Besides, a small pet like Scabbers shouldn't be out and about so much, especially since he's ill. Crookshanks isn't the only cat in the tower, after all."
"And whose fault is it he's ill?" Ron demanded.
"You're the one who said he took ill in Egypt. I'm just trying to help," she huffed.
"Don't mind Hermione, Ron," Lavender Brown jumped in. "She doesn't think other people's pets matter very much."
"That's not true, Lavender—Crookshanks, go back upstairs, I say—The way Ron lets Scabbers wander so much, he's lucky one of the other cats didn't get him already—Come on, go back to bed, Crookshanks. I'm just going to Astronomy. I'll be back in two hours." Dominant personality was right, but she could be strong-willed, too. It took some pushing, but she finally convinced Crookshanks to go back up to her room. Lavender continued to glare at her. "Honestly," she muttered to herself, "I'm sorry about the rabbit. All I said was you can't be dreading something you weren't expecting." Lavender was convinced that Professor Trelawney had predicted her pet rabbit's death, even though the supposed prediction didn't fit the facts.
"Come on, Lav, we're gonna be late," Parvati called, and the remaining Gryffindors left the Common Room to head up to the Astronomy Tower.
Professor Sinistra looked as excited as a schoolgirl tonight—an eerie effect in the light of Hermione's red filter spell—and Hermione had a good idea why. Her parents had mentioned it in their last letter.
"Ladies and gentleman," Sinistra said, practically bouncing on her feet. "I have recently received some most interesting news. Next July…a comet is going to collide with the planet Jupiter."
The reaction was not what Hermione expected, though perhaps she should have: half the class gasped in horror, and Lavender and Parvati actually screamed.
"I knew it!" Lavender cried. "Professor Trelawney keeps saying something horrible it coming. It must be Jupiter getting destroyed! Oh, Merlin, what will this do to my horoscope?"
"No, no, class," Sinistra said frantically. "I'm sure I've mentioned before that comets are not huge balls of fire. They're tiny pieces of ice surrounded by clouds. In fact, most of them are too faint to see with the naked eye, not big and bright like Halley's Comet a few years ago. A comet cannot possibly destroy Jupiter. It's far too small. But what we do hope is that it'll make for some interesting fireworks when seen through a telescope. And the Hubble Telescope should be working by then, so we'll have great pictures."
That snapped the class out of their horrified state, and they started asking questions, especially the boys, who were naturally more interested in the "fireworks".
"The comet is called Comet Shoemaker-Levy 9 because two muggles named Shoemaker and Levy discovered it," Sinistra explained. "Yes, I keep telling you their telescopes are bigger and better than ours. It was captured into orbit around Jupiter, and Jupiter's enormous gravity shattered it into twenty-one pieces. And all twenty-one of them are going to crash into the planet next July. No, unfortunately, it is too faint to be seen. It's fourteenth-magnitude, so even with our telescopes, here, it's not possible—no, not even by magically widening your pupils, which you don't want to do too often anyway…"
Hermione lamented the poor quality of human eyes. Burdened with having to be made out of organic molecules, the photoreceptors in the human eye only registered about five percent of the photons that hit them. She did the maths quickly: if that barrier could be overcome, Comet Shoemaker-Levy 9 would be just visible to the naked eye—and the sky would look so much more amazing as a whole. And here she was stuck with organic molecules. Well, a girl could dream, couldn't she?
"You know, Professor," she told her teacher once the class was over, "I almost would've been tempted to announce an End of the World Ball for the comet impact. It could be fun."
"Excuse me, Miss Granger?" Sinistra said, confused. "End of the World Ball?"
"It's a Jonathan Swift reference—never mind. But the comet is definitely exciting. I've always have admired know much you know about muggle astronomy, ma'am."
"Half-blood, Miss Granger," Sinistra replied. "My father introduced me to the subject the muggle way, which is as good or better that our methods in nearly every respect. Far too many witches and wizards never pay attention to muggle science."
"Yes, I've noticed that, ma'am," Hermione said. "I do hope the Hubble Telescope mission works out."
"As do I, Miss Granger. But I think there's not too much cause for worry. The muggles have usually been reliable about such things."
Hermione considered mentioning her idea about enhancing night vision to Professor Sinistra, but she decided against it for the time being. She wasn't confident enough in the concept quite yet, but if she happened to be struck by a fit on inspiration, it would be another story.
Halloween came the following weekend, and with it, the first Hogsmeade weekend. The visit had been moved to Sunday instead Saturday as it usually was to fall on the Holiday. Hermione had to wonder if Halloween being the day after the full moon had anything to do with it, but she dismissed that. In any case, with the feast in the evening to finish off, it was sure to be an exciting day, and despite the last two years, she refused to allow herself to believe that anything bad would happen.
"Well, we've definitely gotta hit up Honeydukes," Ron said, being the expert on the subject thanks to his older brothers. "You won't believe all the kinds of sweets they have there. And Fred and George are always nuts about Zonko's. And then we gotta see the Shrieking Shack. It's the—"
"Most haunted building in Britain," Hermione, Harry, and Ron all said together.
"Well…yeah…It'll be nice to get out of the castle for a day," Ron muttered.
Ginny looked put out at being stuck in the castle for another year when she met them at breakfast, but she told them to have a good time and wandered off. The trio made their way down to the Entrance Hall, where Filch was checking them off a list. The Caretaker just barely cracked a smile when he faced Hermione. Giving him a few rune-powered potion-making spells each month continued to do wonders for his personality, though he still had a reputation to uphold in public. He was just about to pass them through when Professor McGonagall showed up, seemingly out of nowhere.
"Mr. Potter, you were going to Hogsmeade?" she said.
"Y-yes?" Harry answered.
"You are aware, of course, that Sirius Black is still at large?"
"Professor, he can't—he can't be here, can he?" Harry said worriedly. They wouldn't make him stay behind, would they?
"We certainly hope not, but there have been sightings in the area, so you must be very careful. Also, Professor Dumbledore has asked me to urge you not to leave the village streets at any time, including to visit the Shrieking Shack."
"What? Why?" Ron said.
"Because, Mr. Weasley, it is too far from the rest of the village to patrol adequately. For your safety, Mr. Potter, you will have to pass it up for now."
Harry sighed, but nodded reluctantly: "Yes, Professor."
"It's not fair," Ron said as they climbed into the thestral-drawn carriage. (By now, the sight of the skeletal horses barely fazed the trio.) "You went to all that trouble to get your uncle to sign your form, and you still can't see the whole village."
"Professor McGonagall's right, Ron," Hermione said. "With Sirius Black out there, Harry needs to stay safe. We should be thankful she let him come at all."
Ron opened his mouth to reply, but he stopped when he saw Harry. He was shaking. Hermione started to feel cold. She was starting to think maybe it wasn't a good idea bringing Harry along. What if Sirius Black was here? What would he do if he saw them together—No! It was the dementors again. Merlin, she hated those things. It was like they sucked all the happiness out of the room.
"Ugh, I can see why my dad doesn't like them," Ron said once they were safely past.
Harry was sitting very stiffly and staring into space. "Why do they affect me worse than you, though?" he said.
"I don't know," Hermione replied. "I tried to look them up in the library, but a lot of the information on them is in the Restricted Section…Although, I might be able to convince Professor Vector to give me a pass."
But a brief encounter with dementors wasn't enough to ruin their day today. Hermione was excited to see an authentic all-magical village, and Ron and Harry were just excited for a day on the town. Hogsmeade was a quaint little village, all high-pitched roofs and tall chimneys, looking quite a bit older than Diagon Alley. Its look was actually more subdued that that place, where all the shops and stalls were constantly flashing their wares, but Hermione felt immersed in the wizarding culture here in a way that she never had in London. Being separate from the rest of the world, this was the ideal place to live, by wizard standards.
Even though they skipped the Shrieking Shack, Hermione had a great time, and she was pretty sure her two best friends did, too. They all loaded up on an excessive amount of sweets at Honeydukes. (She justified it by saying it was Halloween, the one day her parents didn't raise a fuss about eating a lot of candy.) Harry got his defective Sneakoscope looked at in Dervish and Banges, but the wizard there couldn't find anything wrong with it, aside from being very cheap. Hermione stocked up on supplies at Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. Ron insisted they go into Zonko's Joke Shop to grab a few things, even though his brothers were the masters of that domain. In fact, it was those two boys that they met in the shop.
"Well, lookee here, George," Fred called. "It's the new kids."
"Hey, guys," Harry waved back.
"Dare I ask what you two are up to?" Hermione asked them.
"Probably not," the Twins said in unison.
"Say, Hermione," George added, "would you care to lay odds on next Saturday's Quidditch game?"
"Next Saturday? But there's not—Oh, you mean Gryffindor versus Slytherin. I hope you're not planning on betting on yourselves."
"Of course not," Fred replied indignantly.
"We just want to see how your predictions fare," George said.
"You've been doing a pretty good job with the World Cup," Fred continued.
"Oh, well that's easy," Hermione said. "You're the favourite to win—upwards of four-to-one on. You've got a real veteran team, and Malfoy's not much of a Seeker."
"Too true, Hermione," Fred replied.
"Yeah, we'll give 'e what for," said George.
"By the way, if you haven't been already, we highly recommend going for a Butterbeer over at the Three Broomsticks."
"Highly recommend. We were heading there next."
"Sounds good to me," Ron said. "I've been wanting to try that. Mum wouldn't let any of us drink it till we were thirteen."
"That she knows of," said the Twins, grinning.
The Three Broomsticks was clearly the centre of social life for Hogsmeade—a small, but crowded inn and pub, filled with all sorts of unusual characters, including a couple of goblins and an old woman Hermione was pretty sure was really a hag. Madam Rosmerta, the innkeeper, was a middle-aged woman with a sharp stare and a firm hand to deal with all the rowdy wizards who came through the place. Hermione judged she was quite pretty, though, especially if Ron's blush was any indication as he went up to order drinks.
Hermione found she liked the Butterbeer. It tasted like cream soda with a healthy dose of butterscotch and a very mild kick to it that her parents probably wouldn't approve of, but they couldn't really talk because they had no problem giving her a glass of wine at dinner parties. Actually, if they made this stuff about twice as thick and added a dash of nutmeg, they'd probably have some form of eggnog. She could see why it was so popular.
A lot of other students were in the pub. Many of them waved to Harry as they came in, and one couple soon approached Hermione. She was only a little surprised when she saw Roger Davies and Rebecca Gamp arm in arm. Roger was grinning, but Rebecca was stared at her oddly.
"Hey, Hermione, how're you liking Hogsmeade so far?" Roger asked.
"It's really great. We need to be able to get out of the castle once in a while, and it's a lot of fun here. So, you two?" she enquired.
"We thought we'd give it a try," Rebecca said, breaking into a smile. "Hogsmeade's more fun when you have someone to do it with."
"I can guess."
"We just came from the Shrieking Shack," Roger continued. "Have you seen it yet?"
Hermione and Ron looked awkwardly at Harry. "Erm, no," Hermione said. "We…might have to do that another time."
"Oh, too bad," Rebecca replied. "Say, Hermione, I was wondering: what have you been doing in Professor Vector's office on Saturdays?"
Hermione's eyebrows rose in surprise. She wasn't keeping it a secret, but she didn't think anyone would notice her Saturday afternoon meetings. "I'm doing an independent study with Professor Vector," she said.
Rebecca coughed, and her eyes grew very wide. "You?" she said incredulously. "What could you be doing an independent study on? You're only in O.W.L. Year with us."
"Linear algebra—it's mostly more advanced work with matrices. We're mostly studying more general principles of spellcrafting in transfiguration with it."
"Oh, well…how nice for you," Rebecca said, but she didn't sound like she thought it was nice at all. "Do you think there's any chance Professor Vector would be interested in taking on another student for that?"
Hermione shrugged apologetically: "You could ask her if you wanted. If you can keep up with the linear algebra work, I wouldn't object."
"I think I will, thank you very much," she replied with an air of superiority, and she walked off, dragging a confused Roger with her.
"Well, that was strange," Hermione said to Ron and Harry. "I didn't know she was aiming for advanced work already."
The boys just shrugged their shoulders.
Unfortunately, the visit couldn't be all fun and games, as a certain Slytherin Trio made an appearance.
"Hey, Granger," Draco Malfoy said, "I hear you don't think much of my flying skills. Upwards of four-to-one on Potter, was it?" Apparently, the Twins had been spreading her prediction around.
Hermione didn't let him faze her. "Actually, that was for the teams as a whole. I'd put at least five-to-one on Harry by himself."
"Typical Gryffindor," he shot back. "You've got a lot of nerve saying that to my face."
"I made an Arithmantic assessment based on your performance last year, Malfoy," she said. "I could write it out for you if you like."
"It's true. Her maths looks good to me," Harry quipped.
"You're one to talk, Potter," Malfoy shot back. "You'd better hope there's no dementors at the game. I'm surprised you even faced them to show up here."
Harry seethed, and clenched his fists. Crabbe and Goyle noticed and pressed forward a little. But Hermione nudged Harry back and said, "Hey, Malfoy, I'm working on a new spell. Do you want to try it out?"
He hesitated just a moment. "You wouldn't dare, Granger. Not with all these witnesses."
"Don't presume what I would and wouldn't do."
Malfoy sneered at her, but she continued to stare him down. It was a calculated risk, but she was confident in the presence of witnesses to stop him trying anything. As she predicted, his response was just more bluster: "Well, if you ever feel Gryffindor enough to try a real duel, you know where to find me. C'mon, Crabbe, Goyle." They three of them went back to the bar for Butterbeers of their own.
"That was bloody brilliant," whispered Ron.
"Just strategic thinking," she said. "He can't do anything in here any more than I can."
"Well, yeah, but it was still brilliant."
"What does your new spell do?" Harry asked.
Hermione grinned and gestured for them to come closer with her finger. She leaned in and whispered, "There wasn't one. I was bluffing." She giggled, and the boys joined in.
"Merlin's beard, you bluffing?" Ron said admiringly. "Why do you keep complaining about losing to that elf at cards, then?"
"Because Sonya is superhuman at it. No one can compete with her. Mere mortals like myself have to settle for outwitting Malfoy."
"Here's to that," Ron said, raising his glass.
"You three go on ahead. I need to wash up," Hermione said as the foursome made their way to the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast. They had met back up with Ginny and showered her with Honeydukes candy to try to make up for her being cooped up in the castle all day. Hermione was sure she had eaten too much candy already, and she still had the Feast coming up, but at least she could work it off with all the stairs she had to climb around here.
However, when she wandered into the bathroom to get ready for the Feast, she was greeted by a disturbingly familiar sound. Someone was crying.
"Hello?"
Looking down the row of stalls for the source of the high-pitched sniffling, she got to the end and saw the feet of someone in a familiar pose, sitting on the floor, back against the wall.
The girl was very small, she could tell—a first-year or a small second-year. She was also barefoot. Her skin was very pale, and her voice was high and a little squeaky. Hermione didn't know all the girls in the castle, but she had a pretty good idea of this one.
"Luna? Is that you?"
The sniffling broke off. "What was that? Did someone say something?"
"Luna Lovegood? It's me, Hermione Granger. Can I help you?"
"Hermione? Oh, hello," Luna said in a crude imitation of her usual serene voice. She was clearly trying to put on a brave face, but was having more difficulty than usual.
"Are you okay? I heard you…" she trailed off.
"I'm…fine…" Luna sniffed again.
The girl certainly didn't sound fine, and with someone as strange as her, and behaving oddly on top of that, Hermione didn't know where to begin. "Um…you know, the Feast is about to start," she tried. "If you come out, we can go down together."
"I'm sorry, I'm not really hungry right now."
"Well, to be honest, neither am I—too much candy. But it's not good to miss the Halloween Feast. Believe me; this happened to me in my first year, and I nearly got killed by a mountain troll."
There was a long silence. Even Luna Lovegood seemed to have trouble digesting that one, and Hermione couldn't think of anything else to say. Finally, Luna said in a small voice, "That sounds very improbable. Were there wrackspurts involved?"
"Um…I have no idea. But I do know people will be worried that you're not there."
She heard another sniffle. "That's nice of you to say, Hermione, but I don't think anyone will notice if I'm gone."
"Trust me, they will. I didn't think anyone would notice I was gone either, but they did."
Luna didn't answer that at first, but then, she slowly began to stir, rising to her feet and sliding the door open.
Hermione nearly gasped when she saw her. Her long, blond hair, which descended to her waist, was unkempt and more frazzled than Hermione's own, making her look like she was wearing a lion's mane on her head and trailing down her back. Her wand poked out from the mass, apparently being tucked behind her ear. She had no socks or shoes—nothing below the knee, which couldn't have been comfortable in this weather. Her Ravenclaw tie seemed to be missing, too, and her eyes were very red, as if she'd been crying all afternoon.
Without another word, Hermione grabbed her and wrapped her arms around her.
Luna went stiff with surprise, but she gradually started to relax. As the shock wore off, she said, "Oh…Oh my…This is very nice, but what is it for?"
Hermione pulled back and held her at arm's length: "You just looked like you needed a hug."
She cocked her head and replied, "I think you are right. Thank you, Hermione."
"So…Did you want to talk about it?"
"Well…I have been having a very difficult day today."
"I…sort of guessed," Hermione said, looking her up and down. "May I ask if there's a reason you aren't wearing socks?"
"All of my socks and shoes have gone missing." Hermione expected Luna to elaborate, but she didn't.
"Uh, Luna, things like that don't just 'go missing'—not that many things, anyway."
"I had been thinking that," Luna said. "I initially thought nargles were to blame. However, it seems…" her voice hitched just a bit. "It seems that my roommates have been making a game of taking them and hiding them."
"That's terrible!" Hermione exclaimed. Luna flinched. "That's not a game. That's just mean. Didn't you report them?"
"I told the prefects my things were missing the first few times, but it didn't seem to help…I don't think they believed me when I suggested the nargles. Anyway, they always come back sooner or later."
Which meant that either the prefects were in on it or they didn't care. Hermione resolved to talk to Roger about it, since he was one this year, maybe Rebecca, too. "You still shouldn't let them do that to you…Was that why you were in here?" she said softly.
Luna's face fell, but she answered, "No, it wasn't that…"
"The hair?" Hermione ventured. Luna didn't seem like the type of girl to get hung up over her hair, but it was worth a shot.
"No, not that either," she replied. "It has got difficult to manage, though, hasn't it? My shampoo seems to have been replaced with whichever one you use."
Hermione sighed. "My hair just does this on its own, but I see your point." She stopped and tried to understand what was going on with this girl. Luna Lovegood was incredibly hard to read. Almost every single time she'd met her, Hermione had found Luna to be calm and cheerful, not at all prone to dramatic displays of emotion—except, there were a couple of times in the Great Hall when something someone had said struck Luna as hysterical, and she laughed loudly until she couldn't breathe. Evidently, though she was normally nearly stoic, when the emotion overwhelmed her, in broke out in spectacular fashion. If it was with laughter, it made the whole Great Hall stop and stare, but if it was with tears, well for her to break down like this, she must have been in a lot of pain—pain that Hermione knew all too well, if not in the particulars.
All she could think of was to try to empathise with Luna, so she told her an abbreviated version of the story that she'd told Ginny a few weeks earlier about that previous Halloween—how she'd overworked herself so badly that she just broke down one day—and then had the bad luck to run into a troll.
Luna seemed sympathetic to her plights. "That sounds very frightening, Hermione" she said. "I do hope that you've improved in your self-control since then." Hermione felt very uncomfortable about that comment. Luna had a tendency to come out and say what she thought. But then, she switched gears, as she so often did. "It sounds like you were the victim of a luck dragon."
"Er…" Hermione said.
"A bad luck dragon, of course. I do hope there isn't one of those lurking around here today. I wouldn't want to run into a rampaging heliopath or an umgubular slashkilter."
It was a struggle for Hermione to stay focused and not dismiss those creatures out of hand. Trying to be gentle, she said, "I don't think it was a bad luck dragon, Luna. I think Voldemort made his move that day because it was the anniversary of his defeat."
Luna squeaked in surprise. "Not many people are brave enough to say You-Know-Who's name," she said.
"Not many people believe in name superstitions in the muggle world," Hermione replied.
"They're not all superstitions. Taboos can be very dangerous."
"Um, sure, Luna."
Luna was silent for a few minutes, and Hermione waited for her to do something, although knowing Luna, she might not for a while. But finally, she said, "That was kind of you to tell me your story, Hermione. I've never really had any friends besides Ginny." Luna's voice was almost back to her version of normal, but Hermione could still hear the strain in it. "Most people think I'm a bit odd, you know. Some of them even call me 'Loony' Lovegood."
Hermione gasped in indignation. The girl was plenty odd, yes, but that didn't mean people had to insult her.
"A few people are nice to me," she continued, "but my roommates and some of the older Ravenclaws always make fun of them for it. They give up after a while. Earlier…earlier today, all my year-mates were picking on a couple of first-years who were trying to be friendly with me." Like a dam breaking, her tears started flowing again, and Hermione put an arm around her shoulder. "They were the last two who even tried, and it's terrible for them to be hurt like that just for being nice."
Hermione felt sick. People had been doing this to Luna for a year (and Hermione had barely noticed, just like with Ginny), and what finally broke her was not just being completely ostracised by her house, but also seeing the same injustice done to the younger students, some of whom were surely new to this world and overwhelmed, just like Hermione had been. She remembered Harry mentioning that his cousin had scared off everyone from being his friend in primary school. Luna's position looked just about as bad, and she resolved to do something about it.
"Luna," she said, "you shouldn't let people control your life like that. You need to report this."
"I can manage, though. I don't want to cause more trouble."
"But it's not just affecting you. It's affecting those first-years, too. And besides, you can't go through life without making any friends. Believe me, I had a spell like that, and it was the worst year of my life…Well, I can be your friend, Luna, for one."
Luna gave her a weak smile, peeking out from under her mass of hair. "You don't need to put yourself out there for me, Hermione."
"Please, with the stuff I've had to go through over the past two years, a few bullies will be easy. Come on, let's see if we can get you cleaned up. People will worry if you miss the Feast."
"I…I guess I wouldn't mind so much going down there like this," Luna said nervously. "I don't think I can fix my hair or find my shoes quickly."
"I'm sure we can do better than…this," Hermione motioned up and down her body uncertainly. She did look pretty dishevelled. "Do you know where they usually hide your clothes?"
"No, they often just reappear."
"Hmm…" Hermione didn't know what to do about that. The best she could think of would be to run up to the tower, grab her spare shoes and try to resize them, but that would take time, and she wasn't sure if it would work. But then, she had another thought: if someone's possessions were taken and hidden somewhere in the castle, who would likely be the first people to find them? And how would those individuals react to finding them? "Well, then," she said with a grin, "It's a good thing I have a friend whose speciality is clothes. Dobby?"
Dobby popped into view beside her. "Miss Hermione calls Dobby?" he asked.
"Yes, Dobby, this is Luna Lovegood. Luna, this is Dobby. He works for me."
"Hello, Dobby," she squeaked. Even allowing for the fact that this was Luna, Hermione was surprised that the girl didn't react at all to her having a paid elf.
"Dobby, have the other elves asked you to retrieve any clothes hidden in odd places today, especially shoes and socks?" Hermione asked.
The elf's eyes grew a bit wider. "Yes, they has, Miss Hermione."
"I think some of them belong to Luna. People have been hiding them from her."
"Students hides Miss Luna Lovegood's clothes from her?" Dobby said. "So that is what is happening. The other elves is not liking it, Miss Hermione. Some of them is thinking…that someone is trying to free them, miss."
She groaned. And I'd be at the top of their suspect list, she thought. One more reason to tell people to cut it out. "I'll see if I can talk to them about it, then," she replied. "Could you check them and bring a pair of her socks and shoes if there are any?"
"Yes, miss, Dobby can." And then, he leaned close to Luna and sniffed deeply.
"Um…Dobby…what was that?"
"Dobby must learn which is Miss Luna Lovegood's scent, miss. We elves sorts laundry by smell when it is being mixed up."
"By smell?" Hermione said incredulously.
"Yes, miss. All of the robes looks alike, so elves must have another way to be telling them apart, miss."
"Oh, and here I thought it was magic. Silly me," Hermione replied sarcastically. Just when I thought I'd learnt everything about elves…
"Dobby will find Miss Luna Lovegood's clothes," he said firmly, and he popped away.
"He seems very nice," Luna said.
"Yes. We hired him after we got him away from the Malfoys last spring. He's been really great to have around, especially since most purebloods hardly ever think about elves—no offence."
"It's alright. I've found that many people have very closed minds," Luna replied calmly. Hermione couldn't help but feel like that comment was partly directed at her.
A few minutes later, Dobby reappeared with an armful of clothing, mostly socks, ties, two pairs of shoes, and most alarmingly, two pairs of knickers. Dobby truly never did anything halfway. "These is all of Miss Luna Lovegood's clothes that Dobby has found," he said eagerly.
Luna beamed and matched a pair of socks and shoes and put them on. "There, now my feet will be warmer, anyway. Thank you, sir," she said as she grabbed a tie, too.
"Sir?" Dobby said in awe. "I like her very much."
Hermione giggled. That settled it. If Dobby liked her, she was definitely going to be a friend. "Dobby, please take the rest of these to Luna's room, and also take things of hers that you find back there right away—but rest first if you need to." After Sonya had overexerted herself, Hermione made sure to count the number of Apparitions if Dobby was doing something intensive.
"Yes, Miss Hermione. Dobby will do that." He took up the rest of the clothes and vanished.
"There," Hermione told Luna. She looked much better already with a full uniform. "Now, for your hair…" She hadn't quite been telling the truth that she didn't have a new spell, but it was true that she didn't have anything brand new that she could use against Malfoy. "I'm not good with hair, but I have a new spell for Arithmancy that might help. Do you mind if I try it?"
"Not at all. I've studied some Arithmancy myself. It's very interesting."
"Oh? We'll have to talk about it sometime." Hermione turned Luna around and gathered her mass of hair into three bundles. Luna pulled her wand from behind her ear so that it wasn't in the way. Then, Hermione waved her own wand and said, "Fasciculi Pilis Plectere." She watched with pleasure as Luna's hair plaited itself…but only down to her shoulders, leaving a bushy tail hanging down her back. "Hmm…still needs some work, I guess. It worked on mine." She hadn't considered needing to test it on very long hair. For lack of a better option, she went with a little adjusting of the braid and two more applications of the charm, and Luna's hair was plaited all the way down her spine. She withdrew a hair tie from her pocket and tied it off at the bottom.
"There, now you look perfectly presentable. Are you ready to go to the Feast, now?"
"I suppose so." Luna's eyes were still red and puffy, but she finally looked cheerful again, so she washed her face, and they were off.
Hermione wondered how people would react to the two of them walking into the feast late. Since Luna seemed to attract the wrong kind of attention, it could get unpleasant. However, it turned out they were in luck. The walked in at the same time the ghosts entered the hall en masse, so most of the attention was diverted. She led Luna up the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Tables until she found the rest of her friends. She was about to offer to let Luna sit with them, but the Ravenclaw found a spot at her own table. Her housemates scooted out of the way—obviously not out of politeness, but to get away from her—and she softly said, "Thank you, Hermione," and sat down.
"You're welcome," she answered, and she sat down next to Ginny and across from Ron and Harry. She heard whispers from behind her of "How'd Loony get cleaned up?" and "What's Granger doing with her?", but she ignored them.
"Hey, Hermione, where were you?" Ron demanded.
"Just helping out a friend," she said as she loaded up her plate.
Ron looked past her to the Ravenclaw Table. "Who, Loony? What's the big deal?"
Hermione shot him her best glare. "Her name is Luna, Ronald," she said loudly enough for the people behind her to hear. Then, she leaned in and whispered, "I found her crying in the bathroom. I happen to have some experience with that."
Ron turned red as he remembered how he had set off that incident two years ago.
"Is she okay?" Ginny said with concern.
"She's better now. I'm gonna try to help her with people picking on her from her house."
"Well, good luck with that. She's nice, but she's an odd one," Ginny answered.
Dinner was excellent, as usual, with the ghosts providing entertainment, and even after so much candy, Hermione managed to eat a good bit more than she ought to. When it was over, they climbed the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, and Hermione took pleasure in the fact that nothing had gone wrong all day.
Unfortunately, she spoke too soon. When they got up to the portrait hole, the Fat Lady wasn't there, and her portrait was slashed to ribbons. And Peeves the Poltegeist knew precisely why.
"Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."
Hermione froze up: Don't panic! Don't panic! Don't panic…I should not have had that second plate.
"All students return to the Great Hall at once," Dumbledore ordered.
The Gryffindors turned around and hurried back down the stairs. Hermione was still feeling like she was about to throw up when she felt a tug on her arm. She now noticed that her hand was going numb from someone's white-knuckled grip on it. It was Ginny. She and Ron were both looking very worried at Harry, who himself looked as sick as Hermione felt.
Hermione forced herself to take a few deep breaths and took stock of the situation. Sirius Black, a notorious mass murderer, had got into the castle. Objectively, that wasn't much different from the past two years, except that he got past the dementors (which he had done before), and the Aurors (whom he'd been evading for months), and the castle wards (which was hard, but not impossible). Also, he was probably here to kill Harry.
In other words, it was just another normal year at Hogwarts—or that's what she tried to tell herself.
The professors didn't take the time to talk to anyone specifically. They just locked the students in the Great Hall with several hundred sleeping bags while they searched the castle. A whole new set of wards were activated inside the Hall, and the huge doors barred themselves up and down.
"If he's even still in the castle," Hermione said as the foursome grabbed four sleeping bags in the corner.
"Dumbledore thinks he might be," Ron said.
"Or he really wants to make sure he's not," Ginny suggested.
"It'd be better if they had a way to track him—of course!" She jumped up and stepped further into the corner, into the last alcove along the wall, and whispered, "Dobby?"
Pop! "Miss Hermione—"
"Shh! Dobby, Sirius Black was at the entrance to Gryffindor Tower not long ago." Dobby gasped, but she shushed him again. "Can you track him by scent like you did Luna's things?"
Dobby cocked his head and considered this. It was obviously well outside his experience. "Dobby can try, miss, if there has not been too many people there," he whispered.
"Good. I want you to do that, but be careful, and if you find him, don't let him see you. Go straight to Dumbledore."
"Yes, Miss Hermione." He vanished to join the search.
"You sent an elf to sniff him out?" Ginny said in disbelief. "Since when can you do that?"
"Since tonight, apparently. People really need to pay more attention to elves. Anyway, I wonder why Black chose tonight. No one was in the tower."
"I reckon he got the days mixed up," Ron said. "Being on the run, he might not have known."
"Maybe not."
"That must be it," Ginny said. "Otherwise, who else was he looking for?"
Who else indeed? Or what else?
Percy was going around and making everyone bed down for the night, as if Hermione—and of a lot of others—would be able to sleep. She was about to lie down, but she had one more quick thought. She rushed over to a group of Ravenclaws, where one sleeping bag was set apart from the rest and knelt down. "Psst. Luna, are you okay over here?"
Luna opened her eyes where she was lying serenely. "Oh, yes, I'm fine, thank you."
"Well, if you're sure—but you're welcome to sleep with us over there."
"That's very kind of you, Hermione, but I'll be alright. The wards feel quite safe here. You can sleep with me if you like if you're uncomfortable."
Hermione felt very uncomfortable and now very awkward on top of that. Luna tended to do that to people. Luckily, she was saved when Percy yelled, "Lights out!" and she said, "Thank you, but I think I'll be okay, too," and ran back to her group.
Hermione got very little sleep that night. She and her friends listened for news each time a teacher came in, but Black was never found. Professor Snape implied that Professor Lupin might be involved, but Dumbledore dismissed that out of hand. Hermione did too, though for a different reason. Seeing as it was the night after the full moon, Professor Lupin was probably too ill to be of much help to anyone.
It wasn't until the early morning that Hermione heard from Dobby again, when the little elf came up to her, wringing his hands and said, "Dobby is sorry, Miss Hermione. Dobby could not track Bad Wizard Black."
"I suspected as much," she said sleepily. "Do you know how he got away?"
"Dobby is thinking that he masked his scent, miss."
"Masked his scent…? From elves?"
"Dobby is not thinking he cares about elves, but he could be caring about Professor McGonagall."
"Professor McGonagall?"
"She was also tracking Sirius Black by scent."
"Wha—as a cat, of course. Well, it's good to see someone else thought of it. I bet Mrs. Norris was up there, too. Thank you for trying."
"Dobby is happy to serve, Miss Hermione."
A/N: Fasciculi Pilis Plectere: Roughly Latin for "Bundles of hair, be braided."