I do not own the HP series or Pokémon.
Some scenes and dialogue are derived from Prisoner of Azkaban.
Some harsh language at the end.
Chapter Twenty Six: Analysis
Sirius Black had gotten into the castle again.
He had gotten into the Gryffindor common room, and had made it to the third year boy's dormitory. He had slashed open Ron's bed curtains before the redhead yelled and scared him off.
That was the story that was circulating around Hogwarts for days. Ron had become a minor celebrity because of the encounter, but the security was being upped again. No one could understand how the man had gotten past the Dementors and the portraits a second time. He had swiped a list of passwords from Neville, apparently, and had gotten past Cadogan's portrait with it.
The rest of the story was warped by the many gossipers spreading it, including Ron.
That wasn't what Moon was interested in, however. The story of how Crookshanks 'ate' Scabbers bothered her more. The parts weren't adding up in her head.
"It doesn't make sense," she said to Ron. Since the two weren't talking to Hermione anymore, it was up to her to make sure the boys did their homework. They were in the Come and Go Room, working through the homework given that week. "Crookshanks may be a cat, but he's smart enough to not eat someone else's pet."
"That bloody cat's been tormenting Scabbers since it laid eyes on him," Ron said irritably. "And besides, there were orange cat hairs all over my bed. Do you know of any other orange cat's that wanted to eat Scabbers?"
Moon closed her textbook. "The hair thing bugs me the most, actually. Crookshanks wanders around everywhere, Hermione carries him once in a while, and yet the only place where we find his hair is your bed?"
"What are you saying?"
"Crookshanks doesn't shed, Ron. Those hairs couldn't have gotten there unless they were pulled out."
"Maybe Scabbers fought back."
"Crookshanks isn't injured. And I can't imagine why a simple garden rat would think to leave behind enough evidence to prove who murdered them."
"Scabbers wasn't a dumb rat," Ron said heatedly.
"I never said that. I said he was a simple garden rat. Even if he did have some magical powers, I doubt it would be enough for him to think to leave behind evidence of Crookshanks eating him."
"So what then?" the redhead asked loudly. "Scabbers just disappears for some reason and the hairs and blood end up there somehow?"
"I'm not going to tell you to just believe that Crookshanks didn't eat him. I want you to at least consider the possibility. You're losing a friend over your stubbornness," she said seriously, directing a glance at Harry. "Is it really worth being right if it means losing your friend?"
"Seems to be that way for her, don't see why I have to be the one to let this go."
"Don't get me wrong, Hermione should definitely apologize. Saying that Crookshanks was just acting like a cat isn't a good enough excuse for her pet's behaviour. She should have at least attempted to keep Crookshanks away from Scabbers.
"That being said, the poor girl is really upset that you're not talking to her anymore," Moon said, looking Ron in the eye. "I think she's been worried since you were attacked."
"Then why hasn't she said anything?"
"Because you insist on treating her like an outcast. She's stressed with all her subjects and she needs support, but you are pettily deciding to not talk to her unless she says that her beloved cat murdered Scabbers. How would you have liked it if Hermione said Scabbers destroyed her favourite book and wouldn't take no for an answer?"
"A book is not the same as a pet!"
"This is Hermione we're talking about. She loves books almost as much as Crookshanks."
Ron huffed. "I just want to hear her say that she was wrong. Just that."
Moon felt sorry for the bookworm. Apologizing or admitting to being wrong was the worst feeling in the world when one is so sure they're right. And Hermione certainly believed she was right in defending her cat.
Neither of the two boys approached Hermione, although the girl tried to approach them. Moon watched the trio slowly break apart. Harry and Ron stuck together, leaving Hermione to drift by herself. Moon attempted to bridge the divide as best she could, trying to get the Gryffindors to see reason, but she was flailing like a Magikarp on land, using whatever she could at her disposal to get things back to normal, and failing miserably.
Moon managed to drag Hermione to the corner of the library on a Hogsmeade visit day. The brunette had previously mentioned that she was planning on staying back to finish some essays, and Moon offered to proofread her work. Hermione, although rather certain that she had gotten an 'E' on everything, took the offer.
"I can't help but notice that Ron's being an arse as of late," Moon remarked, drawing a snort out of Hermione.
"He keeps telling everyone how Crookshanks murdered his pet. That's a little beyond being an arse."
"Fair enough," the blue-eyed girl said with a small smirk.
Hermione continued to write what appeared to be a Charms essay. "If he would just stop talking to everyone about it, I'd be a little more fine with that. But no, he has to bring it up whenever I'm within hearing range."
"He certainly enjoys the attention it gets him."
"He's just happy that everyone's focusing on him instead of Harry, for once," Hermione said, barely holding back a scathing tone. "Those two do everything together, practically joined at the hip most days, always going off to do something stupid—"
The quill Hermione was writing with snapped. Ink fell across the parchment in little pearls, the majority of them dotting the section that didn't contain any work. The tip of the quill, however, had fallen the last written word, smudging the ink beyond recognition.
Normally, this wouldn't be a problem for a student. Quills were easily replaced—the studious brunette had even brought a handful in case the first one broke—and crossing out a word in an essay wasn't an unforgivable action in most teachers' eyes. But for Hermione, already burdened with an absurd amount of work on top of the strain she was experiencing with her friends, it was a massive flaw. Tears had begun to prick at the corners of the Gryffindor's eyes when Moon pulled her wand out.
"Erado," the blue-eyed girl whispered, pointing her wand at the smudged ink. The blotch evaporated from the paper, leaving the spot pristine. Moon quickly removed the rest of the ink droplets.
"Smudge-removal spell," Hermione said hollowly. "One of the most basic spells taught to students in first year. A variant of the Vanishing spell. Taught in a practical Transfiguration class during the first week of school."
"Now, see, most people wouldn't remember all of that," Moon said, putting her wand away.
"I didn't remember the spell."
"You're stressed. You froze for a second. It's fine."
"I can't remember a spell I learned before I even got here."
"You would have remembered it," Moon assured. "I just reacted first."
Hermione sucked in a breath and rested her head in one hand. "I don't know if I can do this anymore."
"Then drop a class."
"I can't do that," Hermione said sullenly, "I've put so much effort into all of them, and it would be a waste to give up now."
"It's not a waste if you show some care for your state of mind," Moon countered. "You're an excellent witch, Hermione, but you're not the reincarnation of Bridget Wenlock. You need to rest."
Hermione ignored the girl next to her, picking up a new quill and furiously adding several lines to her essay. Moon let her eyes drift to the ceiling.
"Why not drop Muggle Studies?"
"It's an easy class. I don't even have to think for that one."
"Ancient Runes?"
"No way, that class is far too useful. It should be mandatory, in my opinion."
"What about Divination then? You hate that class."
"I thought it might have had some sense at first," Hermione said begrudgingly. "Being able to accurately predict cause and effect, and such. Instead it's just tea leaves and other rubbish."
"Rubbish I happen to like," Moon chuckled. Hermione's cheeks flushed Tamato-red.
"I don't understand how you enjoy that class, let alone take it as seriously as the others."
"You take Divination as seriously as I do, at least when you're not arguing with Professor Trelawney."
"I work hard in that class so that Tre—Professor Trelawney and her most devoted students can't claim that 'I'm not putting the effort in' and that 'my inner eye is closed from my stubbornness and restraint'. You don't have to do that."
Moon spun an extra quill around on the table. Madam Pince was preoccupied by some second year Hufflepuff girls, who had decided to spend the day loaning what appeared to be every single book on Herbology, including the material covered in N.E.W.T. courses. Unlikely to bother them.
"I want to learn as much about Divination as I can because I know it's possible," Moon said softly. "Back in Kanto, where I grew up, there were loads of psychics and spiritual mediums. Having your palm read was about as common as getting your nails done. Even more so in the neighbour region, Johto. It's a highly respected practice where I'm from. Practically everyone believes in fortune telling to some degree."
"That's the problem though," Hermione argued, setting her quill to the side. "If everyone believes it, then they'll follow what they're told to do, and then believe even more when the psychic is 'correct' with their predictions. It's self-fulfilling."
"I'm not daft enough to think that predictions about what someone is going to have for dinner are proof that Divination is real. But you have to admit that some things are fixed in time."
Hermione raised an eyebrow at that. "What's the point in Divination, then? You can't change fixed events, so they'll happen whether you heard the prediction or not."
"What's the point in knowing a storm's coming if you can't stop it?" Moon countered. Hermione's brow creased, her lips turning downward into something that was halfway between a frown and a pout.
"That's not the same."
"It's exactly the same," Moon said evenly, her gaze flickering over to Pince. Still avoiding them. "You hear that the day will be sunny and you plan a trip to the park. You hear that it will rain and you choose to stay inside. Someone says that it'll snow that day and you're pulling on your coat and thinking of building a snowman.
"And of course, when the weather reporter is incorrect, we laugh it off and still listen to them the next day," Moon finished, looking back at her fellow student. Hermione's frown had lessened, but had not completely disappeared.
"So you're saying that Divination is just a way to prepare for the future?"
"Essentially. That's what prophecies are for, after all."
"You believe in prophecies?" Hermione asked.
"I've seen a few come true," Moon confessed. "Battles between two opposing forces, disasters being avoided, leaders rising out of nothing… it'd be hard to hear people speak about these things and then ignore it when it does happen."
"You've seen prophecies?" the Gryffindor said skeptically. Moon nodded.
"There's three main ones that I can recall," the champion answered. "The first one being the clash between the two opposing concepts of truth and ideals. My friend, Hilda, came across a man who wanted to separate people and pokémon. He believed it would result in peace. Hilda, however, knew his vision was flawed, because it lacked true understanding. They clashed multiple times, and eventually Hilda won for good. I can't recall the full prophecy off the top of my head, but it was basically two people meeting and battling until the one with the strongest conviction won.
"The next one was actually a cave painting," Moon continued, watching Hermione's eyes slowly burn with curiosity. "It depicted a beast of unfathomable power being released prior to a meteor hurtling towards the planet. Both happened, although thankfully someone managed to keep the destruction of the planet from happening.
"And of course, more on the apocalypse, the last one I remember is about three deities, each representing a different element, wreaking havoc and failing to be calmed down, and the world turning to Ash, and the 'chosen one' finding a way to tame the three deities. Funnily enough, my mentor Red was the one to put an end to that incident."
"Why is that funny?"
"His real name is Ashton, Ash for short," Moon said with a small smirk. "He hates it, though, so we call him Red."
"So the world turning to Ash?"
"Meant we would depend on him, not burn to cinders."
Hermione hesitated. Blinked. Nodded. "I suppose that's… one interpretation."
"You think it's convenient?" Moon asked, knowing where the Gryffindor's train of thought was headed.
"That's another problem with Divination," Hermione said, "if you wait long enough, something that fits a prophecy is bound to happen, and then everyone claims that is was foretold or something equally ridiculous. It's the infinite monkey theorem in action."
"Prophecies and predictions can only ever mean one thing. It's human error that causes the confusion. Practitioners of Divination should work to separate the meaning from the obscure."
"Where did you hear that from?"
"Someone whom I respect highly," Moon said, not wanting to tell Hermione that she was rehashing Professor Trelawney's words.
"Your mentor?"
Moon shook her head. "He'd probably say Divination is rubbish. He's from Kanto, but I don't think he ever bought into the psychic craze."
"He sounded pretty reasonable when he spoke on the phone, aside from the swearing."
"Yeah, I'd say he's grounded, if somewhat sullen."
"He didn't sound sullen."
"You surprised him. He wasn't expecting someone to be listening in, and he's more relaxed around the lot of us than most strangers. I think he was trying to be polite."
Hermione wrote down the last line she could fit on the piece of parchment. "When you say the lot of you… do you mean the other champions?"
Moon nodded. "There's eight of us in total, although Gold and Rosa are Second Champions—they defeated a temporary champion when the First was unavailable—and Blue won't leave. We have to attend meetings every once in a while to keep the regions running smoothly, so we all are friends of sorts. Of course, I'm the youngest, so it's a bit awkward, but they're very welcoming."
A lightbulb went off in her head. Moon reached for her bag, searching for the stack of photos. She removed the bundles, flipping through each of them until she found the right one. She slid it across the table so Hermione could have a look.
"That was taken right after my first meeting," Moon said wistfully, "Calem—the guy with a blue jacket—wanted to record the moment he was no longer the newest champion."
"You look… like you ate something bitter and then told to smile."
That elicited a laugh from the champion. "There was this speaker who said something dumb, that I was too young to have a meaningful vote. I snapped, swore like a sailor at him. Think I made him cry a little. Red wasn't exactly happy with me after that. You know how parents threaten to wash a child's mouth out with soap if they say a bad word? It's actually worse than you think. Horribly bitter."
Hermione grimaced, her brown eyes scanning the unmoving picture. She drew in a sharp breath as her eyes landed on Red.
"He—his eyes…"
"You see where he got the nickname from?" Moon smirked. The brunette nodded, mesmerized by the photo.
"Those aren't contacts or anything, either," she continued. "Those are his real eyes. Same goes for Blue and Gold."
"That girl's hair," Hermione whispered. Moon looked over at the photo.
"Dawn? Yeah, her hair's blue. Not dyed. Your world's hair and eye variations are a bit limited."
"Yours are a bit weird," Hermione replied. "Who has natural red eyes or blue hair?"
"Those two, obviously."
The brunette rolled her eyes. "Very funny."
Moon took the picture back and put all of the photos into a side pocket of her bag. "Thank you, I try my best."
Hermione gave a half smile. "You have friends who are trying to get to you from another dimension, while mine are just wandering around Hogsmeade. Lucky you."
Moon froze. Ran over those words in her head. Something didn't add up.
"Harry's not allowed in Hogsmeade," she stated. Hermione huffed in response.
"I know. I told him that. But he has that map, and Ron didn't want to go by himself—"
"A map," Moon said.
"It shows some secret passages," Hermione said, "one which leads to Hogsmeade. And he has an invisibility cloak, so no one sees him."
"A map," Moon repeated, slightly dazed. "Since when?"
"He sneaked out on the last Hogsmeade visit, just before Christmas break."
The champion leaned back in here chair. "He knew how to get out of the school. And he didn't say anything to me."
She stood up, startling Hermione. Her chair was pushed back, and she began shoving her supplies into her bag. She looked at the Gryffindor, her face morphing back into the serene poker face she was used to.
"You coming or what?" Moon asked. Hermione just looked confused.
"Where?"
"You know where that secret passage is, right? Harry must've told you about it."
"Well, yeah, but—"
"Show me," she said. "I want to be the one to call them out on this, and I want the element of surprise."
Hermione stood up slowly, carefully putting her essay and materials into her satchel. She wasn't necessarily stalling, she was just giving Moon some time to think about the situation a little more.
Moon would not budge. She wasn't angry that Harry had sneaked out. He was probably safer in Hogsmeade than in the castle, if the last break-in was any indication. She was mad that she hadn't been informed. She knew that she wasn't his closest and most trusted friend, but she was still a friend, and he could have thought to tell her or invite her along.
As much as Moon wanted to run through the halls of Hogwarts, she had to follow Hermione, who insisted on going at a walking pace. Her fingers began to twitch, and she gripped the fabric of her school cloak tightly to keep her hands from shaking.
They didn't make it to the secret passageway that day. Ron and Harry were in the corridor that had the security trolls patrolling that hour, both of them looking mildly shaken. Ron caught sight of the two of them and scowled.
"Here to rub it in?"
"What?" Hermione said, surprised. "What happened?"
"The cloak slipped," Harry answered. "Malfoy saw me and told Snape. He kept trying to get me to say that I was in Hogsmeade."
"Professor Snape might piss you off, but not like this," Moon said. "What happened?"
The two boys looked at each other, and then at Moon.
"Professor Lupin defended me," Harry admitted. "Didn't even get a detention, but…"
"He took the map," Ron completed.
"He knew what it was," Harry said. "Even knew that we were in Hogsmeade. It could've been worse."
"Did chew us out for it, though," the redhead remarked.
"What did he say?" Moon asked. The two boys glanced at each other again, not responding. "You look more miserable than you would if it was Professor Snape who berated you. What did he say?"
"He said that I was gambling my parent's sacrifice away for a bag of magic tricks," Harry answered. It wasn't hard to hear the slightest traces of shock and disappointment in his voice, along with a faint amount of shame towards his own actions. He was at fault for sneaking out when a mass murderer was on the loose, and he knew it could result in him getting into trouble and decided to do it anyway.
On the other hand, it was grossly unfair to bring up the Potters' sacrifice to discipline their son, especially since the infraction had not resulted in any actual harm.
Moon could taste the soap in the back of her mouth as she stared her friend in the eyes and said the only thing running through her head:
"That is fucking bullshit."
I honestly feel like Lupin was too harsh when he took the map from Harry. The kid nearly died two years in a row and no one complains, but he sneaks out of the castle in broad daylight underneath an invisibility cloak to visit Hogsmeade and that's 'too risky'. Like Lupin never snuck out of the castle with the cloak.
Thoughts on this chapter?