Recommendation: This chapter's recommended fic is "Hermione's Plan" by chem prof. Hermione reconsiders her behavior during 6th year and decides that she needs to focus on helping Harry — and getting Harry, too.
Chapter 17 - Just Wrote Me a Letter
Monday, December 28, 1994, Early Morning.
Jasmine fancied Hermione, she really did; but one of the drawbacks of being so incredibly close to a person was how difficult it could be to keep something secret from them. Fortunately she didn't have a lot of secrets, but trying to open up communication with Hermione's parents for the purpose of improving their relationship with the bushy-haired witch was definitely something she wanted to keep under wraps for now.
Luck seemed to be on her side, because Hermione had wanted to go to the library on her own this morning. She didn't explain why, and Jasmine didn't want to mess things up by asking too many questions. She'd probably find out later anyway; for now it was better to accept her good fortune and make the most of it.
Sitting at a table in the Gryffindor common room where she could keep an eye on the door, and putting a couple of open books around her so she could switch tasks at a moment's notice, Jasmine began to write her letter. "Dear Mr. & Mrs. Granger," ...and that was as far as she got. What am I supposed to write now?
Think, Jasmine, think! she berated herself. Let's take a step back. First, I originally wanted to thank them for the gift. That's easy — and the gift was all about Hermione, so maybe it will give me an opening into the bigger issue. It will at least sound more natural than me writing to them out of the blue about their relationship with their daughter. That would be creepy.
Putting quill to parchment, she continued her letter: "My name is Jasmine Potter." Sounds stilted, but I don't know how else to introduce myself. I've never had to do this before...
"I believe Hermione has mentioned me in her letters home to you. Well, she must have, because otherwise I can't imagine why you'd have sent me such a wonderful Christmas gift. That's why I'm writing to you now to thank you. It was amazing, it was wonderful, and I absolutely love it. Don't tell Hermione, but I look at it almost every night." Am I laying it on too thick? Nah, it's all true.
"I wanted to give extra thanks for the captions you included — they make the photos more meaningful. The only gift that I might like more is the one Hermione gave me. It's a photo album, too, but of our time here at Hogwarts. 'Great minds think alike,' I told her when she saw that you and she had given me the same sort of gift." OK, that'll do for the "thank you" part of the letter. Time to move on...
"Although I was surprised to have received a gift from you, I was not surprised at its thoughtfulness. Hermione has told me much about the two of you. Since I'm an orphan, it was nice sometimes to hear about someone growing up in a loving home like yours. It could be sad, too, because I was never able to have that, but it was nice knowing that Hermione had it. Even if she hadn't told me about you, the thoughtfulness still wouldn't have been a surprise. Knowing her as well as I do, she would have to have come from a loving home given how caring and compassionate she is."
Too thick again? Jasmine asked herself. Sigh... maybe. It sounds like I'm sucking up to them to get something, but it's still all true. And I need to get them to think of Hermione as feeling close to them if I'm going to have any hope of figuring out what their own feelings are. Someone has to take the first step to close the distance, and I need them to think that Hermione already has. If they then try to take steps themselves, then maybe we can get somewhere.
I should probably finish this off, otherwise they will think there's something odd going on. I just need to get them to see me as being open to conversation. If they're worried about feeling distant from Hermione, I might get lucky, and they'll ask me for advice. It's not like they have anyone else to go to.
"I'm sorry that we only ever had that one, brief meeting in Diagon Alley in the summer before second year. Hopefully I'll get a chance sometime soon to meet you properly and even get to know you better." There, they might take that as a sign of me being willing to receive and answer letters from them.
"Best Regards, Jasmine Dorea Potter."
Now I need to get this to Hedwig in the owlery so she can take this to... Before she could finish that thought, a sound at the window behind her drew her attention. When she looked over, she saw her familiar sitting on the ledge outside, pecking on the glass.
"Hedwig," Jasmine cried happily as she opened the window to let the snowy owl inside. "Did you already know that I was going to need you?"
Preck! Chirp! the owl answered.
"Well, good. I'm glad you came." Sealing up the letter, she tied it to Hedwig's leg and gave the owl her instructions, "Take this to the Grangers. Try to give it to Mrs. Granger, if you can. If it looks like they might want to write a reply, you can wait. But if a day or so has passed, and they aren't ready, you should come back. I won't need you immediately, but if Hermione wants to send a letter to them, she might get suspicious about your absence. OK?"
Preck! Preck! came the reply, and Hedwig launched herself out the Gryffindor common room window, heading south.
Happy to have finally taken the first steps towards dealing with Hermione's problems with her parents, Jasmine sat down at one of the tables to read.
Monday, December 28, 1994, Early Afternoon.
Walking towards the Hogwarts library just after lunch, Hermione Granger was a witch on a mission. Several times now she had tried to find information here about attitudes in magical society towards sex and sexual orientation, only to come up empty. She couldn't simply ask the librarian for help finding books about sex, but she had been optimistic that she'd come across the information if she simply found the right places to search. So far, though, every place she looked had been devoid of anything remotely useful.
It was enough to make one wonder if the library had been deliberately scoured of all references to sex. Then she remembered that she was in a school full of hormonal teenagers who had a lot of free time without direct adult supervision — of course somebody had removed all that material, perhaps out of fear that it would give all those teenagers ideas. Pfft — as if the students here weren't already plenty creative enough. If anything, the right sort of material might help teenagers make better choices and avoid the consequences of bad decisions. But noooo... we don't want them fooling around, so we'll not tell them anything at all and pretend that ignorance is bliss.
"Bloody stupid wizards," she mumbled to herself as she opened the library door. "Only magic can make people that short-sighted and idiotic."
Today, though, Hermione was sure that she would be successful. Today she came to the library in order to visit the Restricted Section! All she had needed was to get that special pass from Professor McGonagall when she and Jasmine visited her yester...
Hermione froze mid-step, halfway between the library door and Madam Pince's desk. She suddenly realized that she never gotten a pass to the Restricted Section from Professor McGonagall. She'd never even asked. She had been too distracted by Jasmine's blunt questions and then so mortified by them that she had dragged Jasmine out of the meeting early. She had no pass! She couldn't go to the Restricted Section! And Professor McGonagall would be too busy today to visit again.
Dropping to her knees, she threw her head back and let out a plaintive howl. "NNNNOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Monday, December 28, 1994, Early Evening.
Seething as she stalked through the corridors of Hogwarts, Hermione Granger was a witch on a mission. Several times now she had caught sight of her quarry, but every time it seemed to sense her presence and managed to flee before she could catch it. She wanted to ask others for help, but every time she tried they took one look at her eyes and immediately ran. She just needed to find the right place to trap her, though, and then she'd pay.
Oh, yes, Jasmine Potter would pay.
First Hermione had been distracted from getting a pass to the Restricted Section. Then she, Hermione Granger, had been banned from the library for the rest of the week. An entire week! For making a disturbance! As if she hadn't been entirely justified — didn't that blasted librarian understand her pain? Hermione had no idea how she'd survive the rest of the week without her precious library, but she thought Jasmine might serve as a useful distraction. Once she found her.
If Jasmine thought it was so funny being a distraction to her, she'd show that green-eyed witch what being a distraction really meant. Oh, yes, she'd show her.
Tuesday, December 29, 1994, Morning.
Idly daydreaming while eating his breakfast, Neville felt more than heard someone drop into the seat next to him. Looking over, he saw a rather harried-looking Jasmine Potter. "So, did Hermione ever, uh, catch up to you?"
"Yes!" she replied, a bit too quickly.
"What was it that she want..."
"Don't ask!" Jasmine said even more forcefully before Neville could get his full question out.
Raising his eyebrows in curiosity, he kept looking at her, but she wouldn't meet his gaze. Finally he concluded that he wasn't going to get any more out of her and decided to let the matter drop. For now. "Okay, then. How are you doing?"
"Fine!" she said, her tone giving the lie to her words. "Just fine. Really. Great, in fact."
Suddenly Hermione arrived and sat across from them. "Good Morning, Neville. Jasmine," she said placidly, placing a curious emphasis on her girlfriend's name. Neville couldn't discern what she was trying to convey with that, but he couldn't miss the sigh that came from Jasmine when she heard her name.
"What have you got going on today, Hermione?" Neville asked.
"Well, I'm not sure right now," she responded. "Normally I'd say that I planned on visiting the library."
Neville thought he heard a huff from the girl beside him.
"However, the library isn't an option for a few days," she continued, "so I'll have to find other ways to amuse and distract myself. Isn't that right, Jasmine? Maybe work on my spellcasting accuracy some more?"
Neville saw Jasmine rolling her eyes at Hermione's questions and wondered briefly what was going on, but he decided that he didn't want to get in the middle this time. In fact, he wasn't touching this one with a ten-foot broomstick.
A few minutes later, a large group of owls entered the Great Hall to deliver letters to the students. One especially regal-looking owl headed for the Gryffindor table and landed in front of Neville. None of those present, which now included Ginny, missed the expensive-looking envelope and large wax seal.
"Neville, that looks... awfully official. Or formal," noted Hermione. "What do you think it is?"
Recognizing the owl as having come from his grandmother, and not feeling even a tiny bit less nervous because of that, Neville retrieved the envelope. He tried to give the owl some bacon, but it imperiously refused the offer as unworthy of its time and flew away.
Willing his hands not to shake, because almost nothing his gran might send in such an official manner could be good, Neville opened the letter and began to read. His friends noticed that as his eyes moved down the parchment, his face went from pale to downright pasty. Forgetting about their own breakfasts, they sat silently waiting for him to finish and decide what he could share.
After two sheets of parchment, he came to the end and let his hands drop lifelessly to the table. He stared out into the distance, not really seeing anything but clearly thinking about something unpleasant. Finally, he turned to Jasmine and gave her a look of pity and despair. "I'm so, so sorry, Jasmine," he said to her. "I had no idea that she would try something like this. But..."
"What?" she exclaimed. "What's going on?"
Looking back at the letter, he lifted it slightly and said, "This is from my gran. In a lot of formal and traditional language, she says that she found out about our date to the Yule Ball, chastises me for not having told her myself in advance, and announces that she'll be setting up a formal marriage contract between our families. She likes the idea of deepening the old alliance between the Longbottom and Potter families and thinks that since you and I are a couple, then a marriage contract is the next logical step."
Taking a deep breath, he started to continue, "I promise you, I didn't know anything about this, but..."
THUMP!
"Jasmine?" he asked, looking over and not seeing her. "Jasmine?!" Finally, he looked down on the floor and saw her lying there, having fainted dead away.
Tuesday, December 29, 1994, Late Morning.
It was fortunate that there had been relatively few people at breakfast that morning and that most of those had been concentrating on their mail or reading the Daily Prophet. Otherwise, Jasmine's fainting might have attracted attention outside their small circle of friends. That would have led to even more ridicule, questions, and probably a trip to Madam Pomphrey, none of which Jasmine or Neville could have easily coped with right now..
Instead, the four Gryffindors had to quickly finish breakfast and get to the seventh floor where they could talk in privacy. Hermione put as much power as she could into casting her silencing and privacy charms on the door: this was one conversation they didn't want anyone else to hear.
Once everyone was seated, Jasmine wasted no time in speaking. "Explain to me, Neville, what all this is about a marriage contract? This year I've already been entered into one contract without my consent, and that one stands a good chance of killing me. What's your grandmother trying to do to me on top of that?"
Still a bit pale, he tried not to stammer too much while answering. "M-m-my gran thinks that you and I are dating. She doesn't know that we only went to the Yule Ball dance as friends. So she assumes, for some reason, that if we are dating then we must be on our way to marriage. It's probably because she's old fashioned about such things. If we are on our way to marriage, then in her mind all the legal, social, and familial issues should be worked out now rather than later. That's what a marriage contract is mostly about: making sure that everyone's obligations, rights, and so forth are spelled out in advance."
"Like what, for example?" Hermione interrupted.
Happy for a brief respite from the central issue, Neville replied, "Well, in our case it would probably include naming our children — Jasmine is the last Potter, so any marriage contract she's ever involved in would include clauses stipulating that at least one child of hers would be named a Potter in order to carry on the family line." Neville cringed when he saw Jasmine's reaction, realizing that he had not only brought them right back to the central issue, but he had managed to make things even worse.
"Children! Your gran is not just trying to get me to marry, but to... to..." Jasmine was practically apoplectic in rage, and Hermione could see that this time her eyes were definitely glowing green. She couldn't shrug it off as a trick of the light: Jasmine was radiating power, and if she guessed right, that power was going to start seeking an outlet. Soon. If Neville's gran were in the room, she'd quickly be reduced to nothing more than a wet spot on the floor.
Suddenly, the walls of the room started to tremble and everyone noticed it.
Hermione had to act, and she had to act fast. Only one solution occurred to her: the same thing Jasmine did when Hermione needed to be pulled out of an emotional feedback loop. It was a shame that Ginny was here, but there wasn't much choice any more.
Hermione didn't notice the faint sparks of energy that started arcing between Jasmine's fingertips and the chair she was on. Focused entirely on Jasmine's face, and hoping that this wasn't a big mistake, she grabbed the witch by the front of her shirt and pulled her into a deep, spine-tingling kiss. Neville groaned while Ginny gasped, but from their vantage point neither could see how the glowing power shifted from Jasmine's eyes to encompass both of their faces.
It only lasted a minute, but to those watching it seemed like ten. Finally, Hermione ended the kiss and pulled back, looking into her girlfriend's dazed face. "Wow," was all Jasmine could get out.
Grinning, Hermione said, "Thanks, you're not so bad yourself. But you have got to work on your temper before you do some real damage. All of your emotions, in fact. I mean, honestly — fainting? All the stuff that's happened in your life, and now you start fainting?" She shook her head, but her criticism lacked heat as she remembered how she had handled her own temper yesterday. And her reaction in the library had been a bit... disproportionate, now that she thought about it. I still don't understand why I lost control and acted that way — it's so unlike me. I guess it's something we both need to work on...
"What's going on?" Ginny asked, reminding everyone of her presence. "Given the lack of surprise on Neville's face, I get the feeling that this is only news to me, whatever it is."
Sighing in resignation, Hermione turned back to the third-year Gryffindor and said, "Would you like to guess or should we just tell you? I'll point out that all of this is covered by that secrecy vow you took earlier."
Ginny looked a bit uncertain, but then answered, "I think I have a pretty good idea of what's going on, but I don't want to make any mistakes or offend anyone, so tell me."
Nodding, Hermione explained, "The short version is that Jasmine and I are a couple. She's always been attracted to girls and freaked out when told that she'd have to have a date to the Yule Ball — a male date. When I tried to comfort her, she ended up revealing not only her attraction to girls in general, but to me in particular. I didn't return the feelings, but I've always tried to avoid thinking about romance. I then agreed to a kiss to see what I really felt and... well... discovered that I liked it. Our relationship has been progressing from there."
Jasmine and Hermione watched the younger witch carefully to gauge her reaction. They had been fortunate with Neville's response and couldn't simply assume that they'd get that lucky again. They weren't surprised by the series of emotions that flitted across Ginny's face as she processed the news: surprise, confusion, concern, more surprise, and finally a bit of fear. They were happy, though, that they didn't see anything they recognized as disgust.
"If anyone finds out about you two..." Ginny started.
"Thus the secrecy they asked of us," Neville interjected. "You're right to be worried about what would happen to them. That's why it's so important that we protect them."
"I shudder to think of what my mother would say about two witches..." Ginny stopped as realization of several things suddenly dawned on her before she exclaimed, "That's why you took her to the ball, Neville! You knew and were covering for her!" Neville gave a small smile and nodded.
"And Krum, he's in on it, too?" Ginny asked.
"No," Hermione answered. "Only two people know about us... well, three with you now. We didn't tell you before because we've avoided telling anyone that we didn't absolutely have to, not because we didn't trust you. Viktor didn't need to know. Ron doesn't need to know. Neville did need to, and we needed someone among the students to provide us some support, so Neville was the obvious choice."
Ginny looked somewhat mollified at not having been singled out for exclusion from the Big Secret. She brightened considerably when she realized that this definitely meant that Neville and Jasmine would never be an item, so if things didn't go anywhere between her and Dean, then Neville might still be available.
Although Ginny didn't like to talk about it, her diary-imposed isolation during her first year had prevented her from connecting to her classmates, and she spent much of second year recovering from the mental trauma. Neville, Jasmine, and Hermione — and maybe Luna — were the only Hogwarts students she had developed close connections to, and she was determined not to lose that now.
Taking a deep breath, Ginny finally stated, "I'm not sure how comfortable I am with the idea of two witches being a couple, to be perfectly honest. I've never given that sort of thing any thought; now that I am faced with it, it seems weird. Maybe even a bit wrong. But you've been good friends to me and you're good people, so no matter what I may think of you as a couple, I can promise that I won't tell anyone about this."
"Thanks," Jasmine said as she and Hermione gave the ginger girl appreciative smiles. At the same time, both were also thinking that they should probably avoid any displays of affection around the younger witch. They already tried to do that around Neville, but Ginny seemed a bit more uncomfortable with the idea of homosexuality than Neville did.
"Now that we've got that out of the way," Neville said, "What the bloody hell was that all about? Glowing eyes? Shaking walls? I mean, honestly, Jasmine, what the hell?"
"No, I want to get back to the real issue: marriage, children, and imposing magical contracts on underaged witches," Jasmine retorted. "Marriage!"
"Wait!" Hermione said loudly as she held up her hands. "We do need to talk about what Jasmine was doing, Neville, but I have to agree with her that this letter from your gran takes precedence. Marriage first, glowy eyes second."
"Fine," Neville said with a bit of a pout. "If you had let me finish before trying to destroy the castle, I'd have told you that one family drawing up a marriage contract doesn't create any obligations for anyone. My gran can create a dozen contracts involving me and a dozen different witches, and it doesn't mean I'll actually end up marrying any of them." Trying to sound reassuring, he added, "There's no obligation to marry unless the guardians of both parties sign the contract."
The silence that fell on the room was palpable. "What?" Neville asked.
"Guardian?" Jasmine choked out, horror spreading across her face.
"Yes..." Neville responded slowly. "Who's your..." His eyes widened in shock. "Oh, no..."
"Dumbledore," Hermione whispered. They still had no idea if Dumbledore had ever asserted any sort of guardianship over her, magical or not; but considering what they were pretty sure he had done already, they couldn't take any chances.
Leaping out of the chair, Jasmine practically flew across the space separating her from the boy. Leaning over the desk in front of him, she started to rant, "Write her back! Write her now! Tell her to burn that Merlin-damned contract!"
Hermione and Ginny immediately separated them, with Ginny trying to steady Neville and Hermione trying to shake some sense into her girlfriend. "Take it easy, Jasmine! It's not Neville's fault. He'd be as trapped as you. Well, maybe not quite as badly, but still..." Jasmine, however, was too busy panicking to listen.
Ginny was having better luck managing Neville, who was already breathing normally again and mentally composing a letter to his gran — a strongly worded letter. He feared that he would only have one chance to get this right, so he had to make it count.
With Jasmine showing no signs of calming down, Hermione could see that she was going to need help. "Dobby! Winky!" Two pops followed her call, and two house elves suddenly appeared, looking distressed when they saw the emotional state of their mistresses. "Look at me," she said sharply, trying to get their attention and distract them from getting upset themselves. Wailing house elves would not improve their situation.
"Winky! Fetch a quill and high-quality parchment for Neville. He needs to write an important letter." She barely had the last word spoken before Winky disappeared with a pop.
"Dobby! Jasmine has just had a bad shock. Can you get her some butterbeer or... um, something stronger, maybe?" she added, eyeing her girlfriend's frazzled state. "I know it's not normally allowed for students, but..." Hermione didn't even finish before Dobby popped away.
Just as Dobby disappeared, Winky popped back in with an especially fancy quill and what looked to be expensive parchment. Neville accepted the items and began to write. "Where did you get them?" Ginny asked.
"Grandpa Whiskers be donating them," Winky explained.
"Whiskers? Uh, do you mean the headmaster?" Hermione asked. When Winky nodded, she added, "Was this, uh, a voluntary donation?" Looking down at the floor, Winky just shook her head. When she looked back up, a little scared at what Hermione's reaction might be, she saw her mistress smiling. "That's fine. He's actually part of the problem here." At that, Winky's eyes widened and her face hardened a bit.
Dobby then popped back himself, carrying a tray laden with a bottle of firewhiskey and four shot glasses. Picking up the bottle, Ginny read the label and whistled. "I don't know much about alcohol, but firewhiskey this old can't be cheap." She handed the bottle over to Hermione, who had a similar reaction.
Hermione then turned to Dobby and gave the elf a questioning look. He smiled sheepishly and said, "Grandpa Whiskers." When she asked, "Voluntary?" he shook his head, and she looked as approving as she had for Winky.
Turning back, she found that Ginny had already poured out four measures of the amber liquid, but Hermione pulled the glass in front of Neville away from him. "Sorry, Neville. I don't want you writing after having had even a drop of this. I'll refrain, too, so I can proofread while unimpaired. We'll have a small drink when the letter is all done."
Already writing furiously, Neville didn't need any encouragement. While he could well understand that a situation like this would end up being worse for Jasmine than for him, he was still outraged that his gran would start such a process without even consulting him — and his anger only grew as he wrote. What in Merlin's name is the matter with her? he asked himself.
Finally finishing, he handed the parchment to Hermione so she could look it over. "I don't know all the proper and formal expressions that I'm sure you have to include," she told him, "but I did want to make sure that you hit all the important points about why this is such a very, very bad plan." He nodded that that was a good idea, and she started reading: "Horrified... would never have believed... without my consent or input... just friends... deepen our alliance based on shared values and experiences, not marriage... burn whatever has been written, and with all possible haste... awaiting your reply."
Looking up at the Gryffindor boy who always spoke of his gran as if he were frightened of her, she said, "This is pretty strong stuff, Neville. I think it's justified, but are you sure about this?"
Grim determination filled Neville's face when he answered, "Absolutely. I not only need to put a stop to this contract, but I also need to head off whatever else she might think about doing — whether it's another marriage contract in the future or anything else. I can't let her think of me as a pushover who will let her run my life however she sees fit. She's my guardian, and I love her, but I have to set limits!"
Smiling at the lion who had found his courage, she responded, "Good, that's exactly the attitude you should have. I'll take this to the owlery..."
"Excuse me, Missy Hermy?" Winky interrupted. "Youse be saying that Winky should be making suggestions. Youse be meaning that?"
Looking down in surprise because she had completely forgotten about the house elves and never thought to dismiss them, Hermione said, "Oh, Winky! Uh, yes, I did mean it. Why?"
"Well," Winky said, "If this letter is being important, we house elves can pop there faster than owls can fly."
Groaning in annoyance that she hadn't thought of that herself, Hermione said, "You're right! That's a fantastic idea! Thank you so much. Please take this to..."
"Wait," Neville interrupted. "If you're going to have a house elf carry a letter, you should make sure she is looking the best she can. A good impression will carry some weight." Looking down at the elf, he said to her, "Can you get a fancier towel or something? Even just for a little while?"
Winky looked down at her old, stained towel and felt ashamed of what she was wearing for the first time ever. Only now did she start to realize the value of a uniform, and she promised herself that she wouldn't question Missy Hermy's orders again. Such a smart witch obviously knew what she was doing!
A pop was heard across the room and then, just as suddenly, a second pop was heard behind them. Looking, they saw Dobby there, carrying a fancy elf towel. "Dobby be having perfect towel!" Crying a little, Winky, reached out to hug Dobby before snapping her fingers, causing her towel and the new, fancy towel to switch places.
Neville then sealed the letter and handed it to Winky. "Deliver it directly into the hands of my grandmother, Madam Augusta Longbottom. You can wait if she is able to give an immediate reply. If not, you can return here." Winky looked to Hermione for confirmation and after seeing her mistress nod, she popped away.
Happy to be finished with that, though nervous now about what sort of reply they might get, Hermione and Neville turned to the other two so they could share a calming shot of firewhiskey... only to find that Ginny and Jasmine had somehow managed to drink almost half the liquor between them already.
Ginny was clearly the lightweight of the pair, as she had passed out under the desk. Somehow, Jasmine was still going, muttering about marriages, children, interfering old women, and meddling old men. As they watched in horror, she downed a shot and made to pour yet another. Hermione rushed to grab the bottle from her, saying, "No! You should have had only one! Maybe two! How many have you drunk already?"
Jasmine looked up at her a bit confused and said, "Her-min-nin-on-ily! Did you know I'm getting married! Then I'm killing Ablus Fumblemore. Or maybe it's the other way around. Either way, someone's gonna die, and someone's gettin' hitched!" She started to sway a little at this point, and Hermione heard Neville behind her trying to hold in his laughter.
Turning to him, she complained, "This isn't funny!"
"Yes, it is," he responded, "and you're going to have a lot of fun torturing her for it when she's hung over. You know it's true."
Smiling in spite of herself, she looked back at her swaying girlfriend and sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right. Oh, Neville, what are we going to do with these two?"
Suddenly there was a house elf by her side. "Dobby can be helping, Missy Hermy." At her questioning look, he continued, "Dobby can be bringing pepper-up potions, sober-up potions, and hangover potions."
Hermione thought about that for a minute before she decided, "She doesn't deserve to escape a hangover, but we may need her functional now rather than later. OK, Dobby, go get them."
With a pop he was away, and less than a minute later he popped back with six vials filled with different colored potions. While Hermione and Neville were still pouring the second of the three down the mouths of the two pissed witches, Winky popped back into the room with a letter in her hands.
"What happened?" Ginny said woozily as the second potion started to take effect. "One minute was drinking... my third? Maybe my third glass. Then I woke up here. And why does my head hurt so much?"
Only after he gave the third potion to Ginny did Neville take the message from Winky. He read it quickly and heaved a massive sigh of relief. Looking up at the three witches, two of whom were holding their heads and moaning slightly, he explained, "My gran apologizes, says that she was acting on incorrect information, and promises that she'll burn even her notes."
At hearing this, everyone else gave their own sigh of relief. Hermione, though, looked puzzled and asked Dobby, "I thought you said one of the potions was for hangovers. Why are Ginny and Jasmine still suffering?" Looking sheepish, he answered, "Dobby maybe using weak, diluted potions this time." Grinning, Hermione responded, "You're a good elf, Dobby. Don't ever change." Dobby grinned back before he and Winky popped away to return to their usual duties in the castle.
Tuesday, December 29, 1994, Late Evening.
It had been hours since she had drunk that firewhiskey — and she had no idea how it had been consumed so fast, honestly! — but her head still felt like someone was bouncing a bludger off of it. On the inside. The only good thing about this long-running hangover is that it got her out of having to explain what was happening when she started losing control in that classroom.
Jasmine had no idea what to say about that and hoped that having a day to think would allow her to come up with some sort of explanation. Not that this hangover is helping me get that done any faster, she lamented.
At a bare minimum, she was going to have to admit that she'd been experiencing an increase in power and magical output recently, which was sure to upset Hermione. She wouldn't be upset that Jasmine might be getting more powerful — no, she'd be mad that Jasmine hadn't told her. Perhaps the fact that it had only happened over the last week or so of classes would help. The change had only been evident a few times and Jasmine, like everyone else, was distracted. She hoped that might buy her some leniency.
Rolling over, she groaned in pain as the shift in position caused the bludger to start pounding against a new spot on the inside of her skull. She had no idea why her magic — and her temper, for that matter — were so out of control recently, and she was pretty sure that it couldn't be for a good reason. As far as she knew, such changes weren't normal, and with Jasmine's luck, "not normal" ended up being dangerous.
She wished she could fall asleep and wake up on Tuesday morning again, as if the day had never happened.
In Little Hangleton, Wormtail slumped against a wall in his meager bedroom in relief. For the first time in several weeks, the Master was in a good mood instead of in pain. He didn't know what had brought on this sudden shift, but he hoped that it would continue for a while.