"Does that girl need to make herself impossible to find?" Severus scowled watching Potter and Weasley exchange bewildered looks upon Archimedes's receptionless landing. "I don't want to track her down every time I need to speak to her." Though I'm sure I know where she is.
The stalked the familiar corridors to the library keeping an eye out for any suspicious behaviour. After the previous night, he didn't imagine any of them could afford to be careless. Especially Hermione. What the hell was that girl thinking, wandering about on her own? She had to know the danger she was putting herself in. That was precisely why he had wanted to summon her to his office before classes.
He searched the library thoroughly before heading down to the archives. The archives being below ground were still almost completely dark with only a torch here or there lit along the wall. He combed the empty aisles between the shelves, combing each table until he spied a bushy-haired form bent over a series of files once again, in the farthest corner from the entrance that she could manage.
"Hermione?"
It was useless, the girl was too absorbed in whatever she was reading. Hermione sat very still, her clasped hands under her chin and hair hanging over her little face such that he couldn't see it. He took the empty chair beside her but she still showed no sign she knew he was there. This again?
"Could you tear your eyes away from whatever you're reading for a bloody second?" he snapped. "I'm not waiting for you to suddenly decide that I'm worth your time! I only- Hermione?"
The blood froze in his veins as he realised that the file she seemed absorbed in was not the reason she wasn't responding. He now wished she was mad at him for some unknown reason, it was better than what he suspected. How could he have not realised? Hermione sat deathly still, not even breathing...
"Hermione?" he choked cupping her face in his hands. "No, no, no, no! Come on, love, please!"
Hermione's large brown eyes stared back at him in shock without any indication she saw him, her mouth hung slightly open as if about to say something. She looked...horrified. What had done this to her? Tears formed in his eyes as he searched her over for anything that could tell him what happened, but instead found a thin red line gleaming in the torchlight across her neck.
"Shit!" he cried closing the wound he'd failed to notice until then before lifting her frozen, statue-like body. "Please, love, please don't be dead..." Would she still be petrified if she had bled out? He didn't know, he hoped it meant she was still alive.
He turned to leave and noticed crimson letters written in a crude hand on the wall behind them. A chill ran through his body and he clutched his daughter closer to him as his breath caught in his throat.
LET THIS MUDBLOOD IMPOSTER BE AN EXAMPLE. TAKE THIS MESSAGE WRITTEN IN HER FILTHY BLOOD TO HEART. THE HEIR CANNOT BE FOOLED.
"Jesus," he breathed.
How much blood did the attacker need for that? He could examine the wall once he had taken Hermione to the hospital.
"You should have expected this to happen eventually," a familiar voice called from the distance. "But that's just what we lowly mudbloods deserve, isn't?"
Severus turned on his heal to see Lily sitting on the table reading whatever Hermione had been before tossing it to the side. Her impossibly green eyes searched him and the beautiful features of her pale face twisted into a cruel smile.
"I know what you're thinking," she purred. "'Oh, thank god, I'm dreaming! I can go on with my miserable little life tormenting my dead best friend's son and manipulating the child in my care!'"
"Manipulating?!" he choked. "That isn't fair, L-"
"Life's not fair," Lily hissed. "That's what you keep telling her, isn't it? If life were fair I would be with my son and you would be the one buried in a forgotten grave! If life were fair you wouldn't be able to wake up from this nightmare and find yourself with a comfortable job, a chance to redeem yourself, and a loving, clever little girl. You deserve none of this!"
Lily glided over to him with ease and examined Hermione with a gentleness he never saw in this version-the version created solely from his guilt-of Lily. That was short lived as her green eyes, burning with rage found his own again. "I can't believe Dumbledore still trusts you! You told him you would kill Harry, kill my son, if it meant her safety. He believes you won't, but I don't! You treat him like rubbish any chance you can, you would love it if Harry were to vanish from your life. No painful reminders of how I chose the man who treated me like a human being rather than a prize over you!"
Severus kept his doubts the marriage would have lasted had they lived long enough to himself. Severus did regret his treatment of Lily, but at least back when they were in school, James Potter did pursue her like a prize to be won. That didn't matter anymore. True, his life would be easier if he didn't have the reminder of Lily's choice staring at him daily, but keeping Potter alive was the only way he could ever atone for his sins. "If it were the other way around," he said. "You would let her die a thousand times before any harm could come to Harry."
"We'll never know, will we, Sev?" she mused leaning in close enough for their noses to touch. "It doesn't matter. Hermione and I are just filthy little mudbloods, right? After all, everyone else of our birth you happily called that years ago. Why we be any different?"
"I haven't thought that way in a very long time," he said quietly. "You already know how much I regret it. How much I regret everything."
"So you're sad about getting me and my husband killed. Are you sad about joining the Death Eaters all because I rejected you? If there was any justice you would be much more than sad! How long before you betray her?!"
Severus looked at the petrified girl in his arms, but Hermione's expression turned from that of abject horror to that of betrayal, anger, and disappointment. The same way she had looked at him before he modified her memories the previous year. He had already betrayed her. "Hermione's my daughter."
"Oh, spare me the devoted father act!" Lily seethed. "Last night you were convinced she was attacked rather than the damn cat. Remind me, if that happened what would have been the last words you said to your precious little girl?"
A lump formed in his throat and fresh tears sprang to his eyes. "You know-know-"
"'Know where to find me if you decide I'm safe to trust again'!" Lily finished. "What sweet loving words to leave her with! You know, Sev, it's very funny. After all these years you spent trying so hard not to become your father you didn't even notice that you've already become your mother!"
Severus awoke with his heart pounding in his ears, and had found he had already been on his feet and holding his wand. After taking a deep breath, he lit his wand to find that he was indeed, in his bedroom. He lit his wand, and a quick examination of the spartan room that held no more than a bed, writing desk, chest at the foot of his bed, and a ricepaper divider he used to divide their living quarters to three areas, his room, Hermione's currently unlived in room and a common area for the two over summer. Not much for someone to hide behind, and Severus let himself breathe.
What were the risks of Hermione falling victim to the creature in the chamber, he wondered, and what could be done to mitigate them? He sat at his desk wondering what he could do. The creature, if it were real rather than a single actor claiming to be it, was after "enemies of the heir", that meant muggleborns and "blood traitors". There were rumours it had opened back in the forties. He could look into how it panned out then. Wouldn't Voldemort had been attending school back then? That made him more certain that muggleborn students were the chosen victims of the attacker.
"So I don't care if there's a serial killer prowling the corridors and if I'm an exact match for their victimology"...I had no clue that exact scenario would come to pass, and you don't even know you're an exact match for its victimology... No one else did either. For all the blood purists' talk, there was no real way of distinguishing muggleborns from other wizards without having known the wizard's parentage. Hermione didn't know, so even legitimancy wouldn't reveal that secret, only two people in the school knew. Dumbledore and himself, and they wouldn't be easy to glean information from. Which meant the greatest risk to her were the rumours he failed to stop and whether or not she believed she might be a muggleborn. Did she suspect she was adopted? They never talked about it, she never asked, and he, honestly was relieved she didn't.
"Your father's wasn't quite right, eh?" Olllivander observed Hermione shattering an ink bottle. "What's the composition of your mother's wand, dear?"
"Might I suggest you evaluate the girl based on her own personality traits?" he snapped. "She's nervous, obsessive and freezes in any situation she doesn't have complete control. I'm sure you can work with that?"
Hermione shrank beneath Ollivander's pitying gaze, biting her lip and staring at the ground.
"Oh, dear," the old man shook his hand to retrieve what wound up being the correct wand.
If he thought about it, his reaction whenever her mother was brought up was always cold and evasive. That was simply the most recent time. He thought of Hermione shrinking in the wand shop last summer, shaking and biting her lip. How could he have said those things to a complete stranger about her? Other things he could have said about her were that she was kind, clever, fair, and principled? But he instead laid out her neuroses in front of her for the old man-why? Because he was insulted? Frightened someone might have uncovered her past? Hermione had nothing to do with that. And true to the manifestation of his guilt's words, it was something his mother not only would do, but did do.
"I doubt he will need anything special," Eileen said in a careless silky voice. "The boy's only talent lies in burying his father's god-awful nose in books, drowning out the rest of the world. Surely, you can work with that, Ollivander? Yeah?"
Lily inched away from his mother, and both she and Ollivander regarded him with pity as his mother prattled on about his unfortunate resemblance to his father not ending in appearance.
He had been so humiliated that he and Lily went to Diagon Alley by themselves every following year. After having that done to him, how could he have done that to Hermione? And she didn't have a friend to comfort her after the ordeal...Fuck, no wonder she never asked about her mother or if she were adopted. You stupid piece of shit!
He had a long way to go to make amends, but for now, he had three letters to write.
"Hermione!" her father called after her.
"Dad?" Not even halfway to the library. It's 7:30, not even halfway to the library. "Why aren't you at breakfast? Oh, God! Was there another attack!"
"For the love of-No, Hermione, there was not another attack." he hissed having caught up to her. "I thought I might find you here, but I was hoping I was wrong. Now, perhaps I should be asking why you aren't at breakfast?"
"Homework, sir," Hermione wasn't about to admit she was looking into the Chamber of Secrets to her father.
He lifted her face by the chin and a chill ran down her spine as his black expressionless eyes scrutinized her. "It. Can. Wait."
"Yessir," she nodded wondering if he believed her.
"The reason I tracked you down," he started. "After last night, I don't want you wandering about the castle alone."
Given the message written in blood, Hermione did feel this might be a reasonable request, but she had flashacks to the previous year where every last movement she made was either carefully monitored or she had been sneaking around like a fugitive. She didn't know if she could go back to that, she had finally come to know a modicum of freedom, and she wasn't exactly happy to let it go. That's selfish, you stupid piece of shit. He's just worried...
"I don't plan on tailing you all year," his voice softened and he let go of her face. "If I don't catch you alone. I'm sure you can find someone to accompany you to the library after your meals. The other caveat for the freedom you've gotten to enjoy is this-do not go nosing about for the Chamber, am I understood?"
"Yessir," she nodded.
"You must understand, love," he sighed setting his hand on her head. "When I heard Potter and Weasley screaming your name I was certain something had happened to you. As a parent, you're never convinced of your child's safety, and what happened last night made my imagined threats real. I want this to be an isolated incident. Until the attacker is caught, just, please, avoid looking for trouble?"
Hermione believed him, he looked both horrified and exhausted. Perhaps, he too had nightmares about the scene, and she imagined she knew what it was. Probably her in the place of Mrs. Norris on that damn wall. Hermione couldn't give it up either though. If lives were at risk...well, she'd seen how effective the adults were in the school last year. That might not have been fair, but she couldn't shake feeling that she had to take responsibility here.
"Of course, Dad," she said gently.
"Attends," he said quietly after checking over his shoulder to ensure the corridor was empty and slipping into French. "I know that you weren't in any condition to be interrogated last night, and with the other professors, Potter and Weasley there you might not have felt safe coming forward with information. But it's just me now. Is there anything you need to tell me?"
Hermione tried not to think of Harry's voices, Ginny's sobbing that she was going mad, and her suspicions they were somehow connected to the writing on the wall. Which was very much like trying not to think of a white bear, her insistence not to think on it invited the images into her mind like a polar bear walking across the icecaps... melting icecaps...and now she was thinking about a doomed white bear. Don't hesitate, you stupid piece of shit, he'll be on to you! "No, Dad. I'm afraid I don't have any information you don't."
He tapped his chin pensively looking into her eyes and Hermione worried once more that he could somehow pry into her mind through eye contact alone.
"Very well,"he sighed switching back to English. "I'll believe you for now. Don't make me regret this, love."
"Did Nick really tell you that?" Hermione whispered in transfiguration. "Dad's even convinced the ghosts that I'm sick? frail?"
"Well," Harry hesitated. "I reckon Nick was just worried. "He would have known you your whole life too right? And you know-"
"How frail I am?" Hermione sighed. "I just wish you didn't say that, Harry."
"Sorry, Hermione," he whispered back.
"I-it's fine," she sighed again. "I'm not-"
"If you two are so keen to talk," McGonagall snapped. "One of you can tell me which is easier. Transfiguring organic matter into inorganic or vice versa?"
"Organic to inorganic, Professor," Hermione murmured. "It's easier to take away rather than add properties in transfiguration."
"Very good," McGonagall nodded. "You managed to stop me from deducting points with that answer. Don't let me catch you talking again."
"Yes, Professor," Harry and Hermione chorused.
"Last night was a bit of a shock for all of us," McGonagall explained.
"Especially for Hermione," Samantha Sexton, a brown-haired Ravenclaw girl, muttered beside Lavender.
Lavender giggled while Pavarti and Padma smiled briefly before their conscience got the better of her.
"Excuse me," McGonagall called. "You girls can either focus or you can leave. I'm taking five points each from your perspective houses."
"Sorry, Professor," they chanted.
"As I was saying," McGonagall continued. "Last night was a bit of a shock, but the reason we are here is to learn, so I expect you to focus. Mr. Finnegan, do you hear me?"
Seamus sat at attention setting his non-class book aside.
Hermione just wanted the day to end already so she could hit the library. She needed to re-read the archive file on Myrtle. Asking her directly was out of the question. All she had to do was convince Harry and Ron to go with her.
Hermione shrank beneath the girls' glares and for once wished her favourite class would end early. Those bitches were terrified last night and now it's all 'Hermione threw up' 'carried off by her father' 'maybe she really was one of Mrs. Norris's kittens transfigured'. She was done. She just wanted to start drawing connections between the voice and the Chamber. They had lunch next, and Hermione wondered if she could convince Harry or Ron to skip and go to the library with her. Unlikely, but maybe Neville? No, if her father's complaint was that she for some reason couldn't take care of herself, Neville was off the table. He'd see him as a problem. Meeting with Luna or O'Malley would have to be planned...she shrank further down in her seat taking notes until, finally, the bell rang.
"Hermione," McGonagall called. "A word, please."
Hermione had to be the only student McGonagall called by her first name, and she wasn't sure if that made her stand out to her peers more or less than her father's last name. She stopped, Harry and Ron, looked at each other then her with knit eyebrows and twisted mouths. She gave them a smile and tilted her head. "I'll catch up, go on!"
"Is something the matter, Professor?" she asked.
McGonagall combed over her with her beady eyes while her lips pressed into a thin line. Her nostrils weren't flaring, that meant she couldn't be too angry. No, she didn't seem angry, she seemed worried. Maybe her father wasn't off base thinking students would be attacked too.
"No, Hermione," she said in an even but tired voice. "Nothing's the matter. I just-erm-wanted to make sure you were alright. You didn't say anything last night, and didn't seem yourself at all."
"I'm fine," Hermione assured. "Just a bit of shock. But I'm okay now."
McGonagall thought for a moment, concern and doubt etched in her severe features, though her exact thoughts were as apparent to Hermione as ancient Aramaic. "I know your father didn't make it easy for Potter, Weasley and yourself to speak up. I also know what he's like when he's upset. Was there anything you were to nervous to tell your father about last night? No one will know it was you that told me."
Will everyone be looking for me to speak?! Hermione wanted to ask if her father put her up to it or if the interrogation was entirely her idea. And did she honestly think she was afraid of her father? Why did everyone seem to think she was weak, too nervous to speak? "I'm aware of my daughter's condition!" Last I checked a 'sickly disposition' wasn't a condition, I haven't had 'a condition' since I was three! No, no...calm down. "I'll tell you what I told my father, Professor," Hermione nodded. "I don't have any evidence or information you don't. And...why do you all seem to think I was silent because I was nervous?" Shit! Why did I say that?
McGonagall, much like her father, was not the type to tolerate being spoken to like that. Her lips formed a thin line, but she wasn't as angry as she could be, her nostrils didn't flare. Hermione expected to be snapped at, but instead her wrinkled, severe features softened and she gave Hermione's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You're a good girl," she said. "I know-wait who did your father think you were too nervous to speak in front of?"
"Seemed to think the situation shot my nerves, Professor," she said with a shrug.
McGonagall thought for a moment, thankfully not scrutinising her, but looking to the ceiling. "I have to say that your father wasn't exactly wrong, was he? Well, if you don't have anything to add, I'll let you go."
"Thank you, Professor," she nodded before taking off.
"What did she want?" Harry asked as Hermione left.
"See if I was too nervous to say anything in front of my father," she grumbled under her breath. "Where's Ron?"
"You didn't-" Harry choked in a whisper.
"Of course not!" she hissed. "Said I didn't know anything...and that isn't exactly a lie is it? Fancy a trip to the library?"
Harry shook his head. "I fancy lunch before Ron eats it all. We waited, but he left 'to save us seats'."
"Translation:" Hermione smirked. "He was too hungry to wait. Why didn't you go with him?"
"There's no way Snape didn't put a 'nowhere unaccompanied' order on you after last night," Harry scoffed.
"You know him well," she sighed. "Let's just pray last year doesn't repeat itself."
The two entered the Great Hall laughing under their breath after Hermione's perhaps in poor taste impression of her father's promise not to tail her if he didn't catch her alone. She stopped for a moment and threw her eyes in the direction of the staff table, sure enough her father had been staring at the two of them with a mixture of concern and contempt that only he was capable of.
"Let's go," Harry whispered.
Harry took his usual place beside Ron, and Hermione sat opposite them between the twins.
"Harry, Hermione," George greeted.
"Afternoon," Harry nodded piling sandwiches on to his plate. "Wanna pass the pumpkin juice, Ron?"
"Took you two long enough to show," Ron scoffed. "Even Ginny was starting to worry."
Ginny's response to this was to stare at her lunch prodding the almost uneaten sandwich.
Hermione wished Ginny spoke French or Japanese so she could ask her if she was feeling alright...to ask if they could speak in private. She wished Harry would find a reason to confide to her about the voices. Then they could compare their "madness".
"Still off-colour, Gin?" Fred asked.
Ginny simply nodded.
Still...
"Thought you'd be in the library," Lee commented on George's other side.
"That was the plan," Hermione looked at Harry and Ron eating their lunches. "I take it you two are still hungry from missing out last night?"
"C'mon, Mione," Ron said around his food. "That's mean!"
"I guess I am my father's daughter," she sighed dramatically before turning to Ginny. "Speaking of, I know it ended poorly, but how was your first Hallowe'en feast?"
Ginny bit her lip and went pink before tearing her sandwich into small pieces. "I-erm-I wasn't feeling well," she admitted in a very quiet voice.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Hermione said. "I do hope you feel better soon."
Hermione looked down at her plate to notice she had done the same thing, tearing her food into small pieces, but she had lined them up in three sets of three. She quickly polished off a third before turning her attention to the Ravenclaw table. She listened to Fred and George try to convince Ginny that she shouldn't feel bad about Mrs. Norris.
"She's not really a cat," Fred said.
"More like a demon," George finished.
"Ginny loves cats," Ron explained as Harry and Hermione leaned in as close as possible. "Wanted one since she was little."
Hermione looked over her shoulder to find Luna skipping out of the Great Hall and almost excused herself before the bell to return to classes rang.
"I knew you three did it!" shrieked Filch after proudly announcing that they'd returned to the scene of the crime.
"Mr. Filch," Hermione used the sweetest voice she could after Ron stepped on her foot. "We were just passing by, sir." And it's true! We have classes on the second floor, you know! "We really are sorry about Mrs Norris."
Filch opened his mouth but stormed off spitting bitter curses to the air and vowing that he would get Harry for what he did to his sweet little kitty. Harry looked as if he had just made the scientific break through of the century. He turned to Ron and Hermione. "The scene of the crime!"
"Yeah, it is where it happened..." Ron knit his eyebrows in confusion.
"You're a genius, Harry!" Hermione was already examining the wall.
The lettering still stood on the wall, now dried, and scorchmarks on the wall where once hung stood out to her. She hadn't seen that the night before. Another thing that wasn't there the night before was the army of spiders marching in neat lines like ants. Weren't spiders solitary? She pointed to Harry and Ron. "Have either of you two ever seen spiders behave like this?"
Harry shook his head. "Never, Ron?"
Ron was also staring at the spiders, but not with the same investigative eyes Harry did. His face paled to a chalkwhite, and his blue eyes grew to twice their usual size. Was he-was he trembling? Arachnophobia?
"I didn't know," Hermione said quietly. "You work with spider parts all the time."
Ron switched his gaze to Hermione. "I'm fine if they're not moving. But once all those legs start moving-eight I ask you! Why do they need so many? To crawl all over you while you sleep that's why!"
Hermione bit back a cruel giggle. "I'll grant you, it's not pleasant-"
"Not pleasant!" Ron scoffed. "You try being three and having your older brother transfigure your toy broomstick into a giant writhing spider!"
Hermione had enough hangups from her childhood that she let it be though Harry had shot her a particularly withering look. She turned her attention back to the wall to see if there had been anything else she missed the night before. She couldn't bring herself to move after she had been sick, but she had her eyes glued to the scene reflected in the water-the water! The water had very little movement, which was why she could analyse the details in the reflection...but it did move enough for Hermione to remember the direction it came from. She took off.
"I hate it when she does that!" Ron groaned.
"Hermione!" Harry called after her taking her arm.
"Notice anything-other than Mrs. Norris-missing from the scene?" Hermione said.
"The water!" Harry gasped. "Where do you reckon-?"
Ron's gears now turned as he followed them and pointed to a door. "It was about level with that, I reckon. Too bad it's a girls'-"
"Follow me," Hermione whispered dragging them in behind her.
"Hermione!" Ron said. "This is a girls' toilet! Harry and I-"
"Want to find out where the water came from, right?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. I just hope it wasn't one of Myrtle's tantrums.
"This is a girls' bathroom, Hermione," a nasally voice pouted. "They're not girls."
"How observant," Hermione muttered. "Erm, Myrtle. I wanted to-"
"Apologize for shunting me for more interesting ghosts?" Myrtle sulked.
"Actually, yes," Hermione said, and Myrtle's translucent face broke into a rare smile. "I was writing the piece for someone else, but I didn't want to make you feel, erm, unimportant. So I figured to make up for it I'd introduce you to my friends. This is Ron Weasley and this is H-"
"HARRY POTTER!" Myrtle squealed zipping up to him. "Look at you! You're fantastic!"
Harry shrank beneath Myrtle's barrage of questions before throwing another withering gaze at Hermione. She would apologize later. Hermione opened her mouth to try and get Myrtle back on track.
"So, something else happened last night-"
Hermione's voice was about as effective as a dog whistle on a human.
"A cat was attacked here last night," Harry said. "Did you see anything?"
Thank you, Harry!
"Of course it's about that!" Myrtle shrieked. "Well, I wasn't really interested what happened outside. Peeves and Hermione upset me so much that I tried to kill myself before I-" she sniffed before glaring at Hermione.
I tried to defend you! Hermione thought, but instead she bowed her head and apologized in a quiet voice, that Ron spoke over.
"Remembered you're already dead?" Ron asked.
"Y-you," Myrtle sobbed. "You're such a jerk! You and Hermione deserve eachother!" she wailed and dove into a U-bend making it very clear that there would be another flood if they didn't leave soon.
"She needs to walk through a quart of lithium!" Hermione hissed as they left the bathroom.
"Maybe dump some in her toilet," Harry said.
"Wow," Ron laughed before saying. "That was useless."
"Yep," Harry agreed.
"Ron!" a voice before them shouted.
There stood Percy, flaming hair immaculately groomed, horn-rimmed glasses perched evenly on his nose and standing at his full hieght, looking down at all three of them. Though it seemed he was so angry that he didn't care that folding his arms over his chest obscured his silver prefect badge. "What you were doing!"
"You know," Ron said with a nervous laugh. "Looking for clues. See if we can figure out-"
"Clues?!" Percy drew them away. "The teachers will figure it out. The detective work stops now! Have you any clue what you three milling about here while everyone's at dinner looks like?"
The three exchanged nervous glances and looked back at Percy. "If I catch you trying anything," Percy seethed. "I'll write Mum!" he then pointed a finger at Hermione. "And I will tell your father!"
"Why did you tell him, Ron," Harry whispered.
Percy strode away and Hermione noticed that the back of his neck and Ron's ears flushed the same scarlet. At least they telegraphed their emotions.
That evening Hermione sat with Harry and Ron as they did Charms homework, Hermione was nearly finished though, pouring herself into it when she couldn't figure out where to go next. Ginny? Myrtle's death report? Her study on voices went nowhere...there was a segment on the chamber in Hogwarts A History! Hermione closed her book, promised to return, grabbed her book and reread the segment before returning to their table.
"Hermione?" Ron said.
"Read this!" she whispered before casting muffliato.
Salazar Slytherin, convinced the entrance of muggle-born students would lead to the demise of Hogwarts left when he was over-ruled. He warned his fellow founders that he would not let the school fall even after his departure and death. Deep in the bowels of the school it is rumoured he created a chamber containing a creature that will, in his words, eliminate the unworthy (muggleborns) from the school. Slytherin also claimed that only his true heir could open the chamber and separate the worthy from the unworthy.
Generations of teachers have searched the school for such a chamber, and none exist. It is theorised by Magic Historians that Slytherin started the threat and the rumour to scare the founders from admitting muggleborns.
"Ha!" Ron slammed the table. "Who do we know that has a family legacy of Slytherins and can't stand muggleborns?"
"Malfoy, Parkinson, Nott, Crabbe and Goyle," Hermione recited. "And that's just in our year. It might not be as simple as-"
"It's Malfoy," Harry said. "You saw how he reacted to Colin calling him out? And he's really proud of his heritage. And he's-"
"A prat?" Hermione asked. "I can't stand him either...but honestly...Malfoy?"
"Think about it, Hermione," Harry mused. "He certainly meets the criteria. And you heard what he said last night."
"And he looked really pleased..." Ron offered.
Hermione bit her lip thinking. Everything they said was true, and they just assumed he was at the feast, he might not have. Hermione simply didn't understand how the voices and Ginny's 'madness' played into it though...maybe she was wrong to connect them in the first place. Malfoy might be worth looking into. And Hermione had a pair of eyes on the inside.
"I have to go!" Hermione said taking down the spell. "You two might be right."
"Wait, Hermione," Ron said, "What about-"
"It's not curfew yet, and I might be able to-I can't tell you too much. Just trust me."
Hermione thought for a moment before turning to see Neville struggling with his charms homework. She sat beside the round faced boy and smiled at him. "Want help?"
"Please!" Neville sighed in relief. "I just don't get how-"
"Have you looked at Theory and Elements of Motion Charms? It's in the library and I think it'd be a great help for this assignment. Wanna go?"
Neville nodded and the two headed out.
Please be out in the open, Pansy, Hermione thought as the two made their way to the library, Neville lamenting the complexity of motions charms.
Pansy was walking with Millicent Bulstrode, playing with her dark ponytail over her shoulder. They were sniggering about something. With trepedation Hermione approached the two forcing a smile on her face.
"Hermione!" Pansy fake beamed.
"Pansy!" Hermione mimicked her tone. "So wonderful to see you!"
The two girls shared a very tense embrace in which Hermione whispered: "Still pants at transfiguration?"
"Still an ugly bitch?"
"I'll take that as a yes," she whispered back. "Lose Bulstrode and I have a proposition for you."
"Lose Longbottom and we'll talk."
"Erm, Neville," Hermione said turning back to him, happy to end the awkward embrace. "Is it alright if I catch up to you? Pansy and I just have somethings to discuss. Girl talk, you know?"
"Erm, sure..." Neville hesitated. "But is it really safe to be alone right now?"
"Longbottom's right, Hermione," a voice came from behind her with more giggling.
Marietta Edgecombe, Samantha Sexton, both Patil twins, Lavender Brown, Cho Chang and two girls Hermione couldn't recall the names of, but belonged to her house. The two Gryffindor girls seemed to be a year or so older than her. She couldn't read the mood of the knot of girl's now circling her. Cho and Padma seemed confused, Parvarti and Lavender seemed torn between giggling and confused, while Samantha Sexton, Marietta Edgecombe and the two Gryffindor girls seemed to be smiling with malice.
"Do you know what Heather George told me?" said one of the Gryffindor girls.
"That she's sixteen and has outgrown tormenting first and second years?" Hermione said. "Just a thought though." Since when did she hang with younger Gryffindors? "Because anything else is pathetic."
"Yeah," the older Gryffindor girl purred pulling out her wand. "She has outgrown that, but not before telling me last year that you were transfigured from one of Mrs. Norris's kittens."
"Ivy," Cho said. "Maybe this is a bad idea..." she elbowed Marietta.
"Cho might be right."
It was clear both girls arguments fell on deaf ears, Ivy and her friend still sneering while Pavarti, Lavender and Padma looked from the two threatening her, to Cho and Marietta still looking confused.
"I'm leaving!" Cho stormed off.
Lavender and the Patil twins exchanged nervous glances before looking at Hermione, uncertain.
"Drop it!," Pavarti said.
She ignored her and began precise wand movements.
"Expellearmus!" Hermione cried disarming the girl named Ivy.
The wand flew out of Ivy's hand and Hermione prepared to do the same to the other girl when a tight grip clasped around her wrist. Hermione stared at the beefy hands owner and saw that it belonged to Millicent Bulstrode, pale eyes glaring at her menacingly. It seemed her name didn't save her from opportunistic Slytherins looking for a chance. Hermione tried to wring from the older girl's grip with her whole weight to no avail. She expected Pansy to tell her that Millicent was being an idiot and they could get expelled.
The reality was that Pansy was staring at them like she had swallowed something bitter, her brown eyes narrowed in spite.
"I think you owe Filch a new cat," Ivy grinned. "Don't you, Violet?"
Marietta now joined the rest of the girls in looking uncertain. "I don't want to get expelled..."
Violet ignored this and cast the spell on Hermione. Her body contorted painfully and Millicent clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle her screams. The next instant it was done, she was released and everyone started giggling, including the ones that were uncertain, though no laughter was louder than the two Gryffindor girls, Samantha Sexton's or Pansy's. Hermione had to do her homework and rely on her information, but Pansy howled at her.
Everyone and everything around her grew taller. Long black claws tipped Hermione's finger tips, and a very thin tawny fur covered her hands, just enough to make tabby markings visible. She felt her face to the great relief she had no whiskers and a more or less (by feel) human face, though she definitely had cat fangs, along with ears and a tawny striped tail. The girl called Ivy smirked. "I don't know if I'm happy or disappointed the spell didn't take. I guess I have to practice my transfiguration. Thanks, kitten."
Don't cry, don't cry!
"Some friends, Hermione," Pansy stopped laughing long enough to glare at Neville. "Either nowhere to be found or useless! Potter and his lot aren't such heroes now are they? Though not many can be bothered with you, can they? Honestly, you hang around that rubbish and call me stupid! Come on, Millicent."
Hermione wanted to sink into the floor and shut out the rest of the world, she felt tears spring into her eyes and covered her face with her clawed hands. "This isn't happening!"
"Let's go to the hospital before anyone sees you," Neville said quietly.
Hospital...what if it took months to set her straight? What if she spent the rest of her life looking like a cat girl? Everyone made fun of her now, but it was only going to be worse! The investigation, stupid piece of shit! You can't search the scene, library or interview anyone like this! That's what matters...Despite admonishing herself, Hermione didn't know if she felt worse about her inability to continue, the classes she would miss or the renewed cat-themed taunts that would plague her for the rest of her life. She walked silently to the hospital beside Neville to gasps and cackles of students making their way to their common rooms. Once again she wished she could vanish.
"What the hell happened to you?" a voice in the bed beside hers asked.
O'Malley sat in the bed with his arm in a sling and a black eye. He looked out of place, flaming hair no longer tied back, hunched over rather than displaying his full height and in faded grey pajamas. It seemed wrong for some reason for her to see him this way. The only thing that seemed unchanged were his eyes. Even with one bruised. Where Harry had impossibly green eyes, O'Malley's were impossibly blue. The proud Slytherin boy tried to smile-Slytherin! I still have eyes on the inside!
"Other girls," Hermione sighed. "What happened to you?"
"Other boys," he shrugged smirking. "I'll be out in the morning. Though I imagine you'll be longer."
Hermione examined her hands and her tail twitched. "I imagine."
"It's too bad Luna hasn't landed herself in here too," O'Malley sighed. "If we want to keep the Herald going we'd have the story of the century!"
"Actually," Hermione smirked. "That is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about..."