"I can't believe that girl!" Severus snapped to an empty room.
Hermione was admitted to the hospital last night after becoming a strange cat-hybrid once more. This was entirely different than the failed transfiguration that she was trying to undo. The tawny and brown tabby features, the long haired tail, all seemed to match what she might look like as a cat, but the matching yellow eyes and short black fur seemed to be features of another cat. Something that combined with Crabbe and Goyle being found in a cupboard supported the theory that she'd tried her hand at a polyjuice potion to infiltrate Slytherin House. It was incredibly advanced, but if she and either Potter or Weasley tried to impersonate them, that's what she would have gone for. Did she not think he could put two and two together?
"You woke up like this? And I suppose it's just a coincidence Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were found locked in a cupboard last night?"
"The three of us aren't exactly popular, are we?" she asked soothing the hair on her twitching tail.
"And still I feel you're not telling me something," he folded his arms over his chest. "The sooner you tell me the easier this will be."
Hermione fell silent and her eyes stayed on her tail as she tried to keep it from telegraphing her mood.
"Fine!" he snapped. "We can add this to the list of things that could have been avoided if you trusted me!"
That conversation went about as well as throwing one's pet goldfish into a tank of sharks. It was a disaster. She was angry with him before he even reached her. Of course, he was left to guess why it was, as always. Perhaps she was just guarded because she knew she was in trouble. But it was more than just nerves. His whole life, Severus was able to pride himself in one thing, his intelligence, and he couldn't decipher the moods of his own daughter. Why did it seem she was forever angry with him?
"Why does she have to do this?!" he sighed tidying the stack of papers on the table. "She could have told me she thought someone in Slytherin was responsible. It's not as if I'm the head of the house and am privy to information she doesn't have! I gave that girl every bloody opportunity to do so! I could have told her she was wasting her time and could have avoided this! Must everything be so difficult with her? Why doesn't she-" he looked around the empty room and deflated into a chair with a sigh. "Who am I even talking to?!"
This wasn't the first time he'd found himself talking to the air, and it wouldn't be the last. He disgusted the closest thing he had to a friend and had so little success in being included that he stopped trying a long time ago. All he had was his daughter, and when it was her he wanted to talk about, that posed an issue. Not only that, but he knew better than to burden a child so young with the ruminations of an admittedly emotionally unstable adult. And, he loathed the idea of being vulnerable to anyone, particularly her. She was supposed to look up to him-but that ship sailed a long time ago.
He looked to the corner of the room to see Archimedes dosing on his perch, how many times had he admonished or teased Hermione for speaking to the damn bird like he was a person? Was it worse that he vented his concerns to the void or better? The hypocrisy might have been amusing if the thought hadn't led to the conclusion that until very recently the girl was perhaps as lonely as he had been. He should have known better than to keep her to himself in her early childhood. He didn't like to bother with introspection, but was her well-being really his only concern? Why was he asking himself this now? When the damage was already done?
But the damage couldn't have been so extensive. She, despite all his fears, had managed to find friends, and though he often felt she wasn't given half the respect she deserved, it was becoming harder to convince himself they only wanted to use her for help or for an emotional punching-bag. Though would she only value herself based on utility if that wasn't the case?
Were other parents this lost or was he simply hopeless? Once again, he wondered if adopting Hermione eleven years ago was irresponsible. He cherished every moment he had with her-almost every moment-and he loved her, but had he'd done right by her? She was a very sweet child, someone else might have adopted her. Someone who wasn't afraid to tell her who she was. No, he had a good reason for lying about that. But it could have been someone who actually knew how to be a parent. Now through no fault of hers, she was stuck with him.
But it wasn't all bad, was it? Severus had thousands of little memories; her beaming up at him and running into his arms when he came home, quiet evenings doing cross-words, stargazing, playing cards or reading together, "rescuing" her when she climbed too high in a tree or on a shelf, tucking her in and reading a bed time story, her little giggles at his poor attempts at voices when he did so. Surely she remembered those moments as fondly as he did?
"What do I do now?" he sighed.
The four stone walls, furniture and owl offered him no answers.
Stupid piece of shit...
"Sorry, Severus," Pince said in an indifferent tone. "Looks like that was signed out back in November."
I fucking knew it! That girl is in so much trouble when she's discharged! "I see," he spoke in a casual even tone. "By whom?"
Pince read her short list of Restricted Section sign-outs. "Gilderoy Lockhart gave Harry Potter permission to sign the book out for an essay on slow-acting venoms. But he'll return it this week...or else."
Pince's empty threats meant little to him, there was little she could do but scold the boy. He recalled returning an overdue book at Hermione's age certain that suffering Pince's displeasure was to be a horrific experience, and to his relief she couldn't do so much as assign a detention. However, Potter signing the book out meant his Polyjuice potion theory was correct. He wondered if she really thought he wouldn't draw the connection between Potter signing out the book and her using it. Though he supposed if she'd succeeded he'd never have known.
She'd tried to pass it off as an attack, and using her actual attack to suggest she was likely to be a victim of such spell-work in the future was low he had not thought her capable of. Despite her refusal to name names, he knew who each girl was now, and none of them were at Hogwarts over the holidays. Hermione had seriously underestimated him. How often children see their parents as idiots.
"I see," he said. "I shall return next week then. Thank you."
Hermi-chan!
How was your holiday? Kaori and I went back to Tokyo with Mama, her parents and Osofu-san to celebrate. Well, Osofu-san begrudgingly, he doesn't quite understand the tradition of decorating a tree or Christmas cake. "Muggles, no offense, Minako-chan, so happy to engage in all the Western trappings then ring the bell on New Year's Day. It's one thing if you're there! But here?" They have that conversation every year, Mama just nods at this point. Jiji and Baba know about magic (much to Osofu-san's dismay!) but they also stay out of it.
Oh, we picked up the worst cake! I don't know how we managed it, but we all woke up feeling disgusting Christmas morning! We threw out what was left and skipped going out for dinner Christmas night. Which the cats were none too thrilled, we normally feed them a bit of chicken and they somehow knew to be disappointed about this. Other than that, our holiday has been fun. I finally beat Kaori at Go! You should have seen the look on her face! Though it wasn't particularly long lasting because Mochi jumped up on the board and knocked over all of the pieces. It was funny.
Kaori still hasn't told Mama or any of our grandparents about Anya, and Baba's keeps telling her that she needs a boyfriend...so, I've kept quiet. It's strange, no one in school seemed to have a problem with her and Anya, but telling Mama seems nerve wracking to her. Though I remember Saiyaka didn't want anyone to know either, so maybe Kaori being "Perfecto-chan" isn't guard enough for the grown-ups.
Luckily, being thirteen (nearly fourteen!) and a boy, I've not faced such pressures.
Sayaika, Toshio and Miyuki are coming up on New Year's to travel with us to school. We'll have two days to make whatever mischief we see fit! Though it'll be less fun without you, Anya and Sam. One summer and I still see the seven of us as a unit. How crazy is that?
Can't wait to hear back!
Love,
Hiro-kun!
Hermione began penning her reply, thankful for the distraction. She was so happy that Hiro saw her as part of the group after only one month together, but the two had pulled each other through an extremely lonely and difficult time through their letters before they even met. Hermione would forever be grateful, and felt pride that even with everything that happened, she never fell out of writing weekly as she had done last year. She had come dangerously close, but she couldn't let herself disappoint Hiro again. That she could do while trapped once more in the hospital.
She heard familiar footsteps and rolled her eyes as the last person she wanted to see at the moment approached her. With no students aside from Harry the Weasleys, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, there were no students, meaning that his visiting times could be more unpredictable. Last time she was in the hospital she was never surprised. And her ability to prepare herself was non-existent. At least her behaviour didn't shift this time.
"You must think I'm stupid," her father spoke in icy tones.
I could say the same to you! "No, sir," she clasped her hands together and steadied her breathing. Don't do anything stupid. He'll never admit to his lie...
"I'm confused," he tapped his chin as he looked up in a show of pensiveness.
YOU'RE confused? she thought bitterly, digging her nails into her hands and staring at them rather than him. Did someone you're supposed to be able to trust lie to you about where you came from? I was an idiot to ever trust you again!
"You see," he began after a moment of silence. Clearly he thought she was going to respond to him. "I can't think of who would possible want to attack you out of the students here. You're not popular, yes, but the students here over the holiday all either like you or would leave you alone for fear of expulsion. Though I doubt you did this to yourself on purpose."
Hermione tried to think of anything and once again had the white bear problem, thinking about the exact thing she didn't want to think of. Though she kept her eyes fixed on her hands. She wondered if her cat features were as easy for him to read as her human ones. Or if he was breaking into her mind at these times. He waited again for her to speak. She stayed silent. He was always telling her to be silent anyway, he couldn't blame her for doing so.
"Indeed, I find it all very perplexing," he said coolly. "For you to do this by yourself by accident, well, you would have to botch some very advanced magic. And I don't see you trying to transfigure yourself while still healing from the last time. And why you would do it...I simply can't imagine Crabbe and Goyle being found locked in a cupboard have nothing to do with it. I do wonder how they're connected?"
Just get it over with, Hermione bit her lip and dug her nails further into her skin. How could she be so angry with him and still so nervous? She thought she finally found the courage that she was supposed to have as a Gryffindor. Hermione didn't take the gap to speak. She had two options if she spoke, outright lie and make things worse or admit to her own involvement and have her words used against her. And if she spoke, she thought it might betray the hurricane of emotions brewing inside her. No one was going to see the mess she was, least of all her father.
"That's when I went to the library to and found a particular book was signed out by Potter. Potions Moste Potente, which contains instructions to make which potion?"
You never ask for my input this much! Hermione thought bitterly and kept her eyes on her hands.
"Polyjuice Potion!" he snapped after she failed to answer him. "Do you know what I think? I think you, Potter and Weasley have been plotting behind our backs to infiltrate Slytherin and weasel an admission out of your suspect. Did it not occur to you little idiots that I would have put a stop to it by now if it were happening right under my nose?"
Hermione was familiar with this game now. She would wait for her father to get to the point and keep her mouth shut. There was nothing she could say, even if she trusted her voice not to waver, that would stop him. His mood swings could be tempered, either he would soften on his own or he would after she agreed to whatever he said. Hermione was a patient girl, she could wait. She was used to this, wait for her father's mood to change, wait for her turn to speak, wait for her friends to listen to her, and she could definitely wait for his forgiveness. He lied to her about her mother. Had he any idea how much that letter shook her? How many years she wondered if she were abandoned? That man had no idea how long Hermione could carry a grudge, and he deserved it! So, why do I feel so guilty?
"Have you anything to say for yourself?!" he asked in icy tones that sent chills down her spine. "No?" he said after a silence. "Nothing at all? Or are you hoping that if you ignore me long enough I'll simply go away? Merlin, Hermione, say something!"
Hermione inhaled sharply and dug her nails deeper into the backs of her hands. "I didn't want anyone else getting hurt."
"And you and Potter thought it better to investigate the matter yourselves rather than come to us, is that it? You don't trust us." He seethed. "I raised you and you don't trust me!"
That last part renewed the icy, disappointed tones that Hermione dreaded since she was little. He was the one in the wrong, and he didn't care, but Hermione's guilt intensified at his tone. It always worked. Since she could remember she had always hated the idea that she had somehow disappointed him. That she was a disappointment to him.
"You don't even deny it," he sighed. "I'll leave you be for now. But I do hope you're capable of reflecting on why this happened!"
She watched him walk away and buried the part of her that wanted to call him back and apologize.
"Hi, Hermione!" Luna greeted her.
Luna perched herself on the foot of Hermione's bed cross-legged, smiling broadly at her. "I think I liked it better last time, you looked more like you."
Hermione rolled her eyes and smirked. "I'll ask the next person who attacks me to keep your preferences in mind. But I thought you liked cats."
"I do," she smiled vaguely scratching behind Hermione's ear.
"L-Luna!" she choked lightly swatting her hand away. "At this point I should just change my name to Tabby and move into the forest."
"That sounds fun!" Luna laughed. "We can look for your fellow cat-brethren together!"
"Sounds like a plan!"Hermione giggled. "I'll start saving spoons for my escape. How was your holiday?"
"Wonderful! Daddy and I are certain we found Snow-Fairy droppings among the snow crystals. Next year, we'll find them, I'm sure! I can't wait! How was yours?"
"You're looking at it," Hermione sighed. "Any luck getting Ravenclaws to carry mirrors?"
Luna's smile faded and she sighed. "I'm not the most credible person. Marietta Edgecombe found me checking around corners and made fun of me. I told her and the girls she was with to read the bulletin and that we're better petrified than killed and that there was a basilisk slithering around the pipes. They laughed."
"No better luck with Hufflepuff," an even Welsh voice said from her side.
O'Malley and Skylar both stood at her bedside, Skylar looking rather defeated and O'Malley clenched his jaw in anger. Luna came back from holidays looking quite bright and happy, even after the mishap with Marietta Edgecombe. O'Malley and Skylar both lacked that rejuvenated look, as if the three weeks being at home didn't give them respite. Though, it might not.
"Slytherins think themselves immune," O'Malley agreed. "How about your end, sunshine?"
"If I told you I'm not talking to him right now-" Hermione started feeling as though shame would make her blush through her fur.
"I'd say you're being selfish," O'Malley snapped.
"O'Malley," Skylar hissed.
"It was your idea she bring her theory to the teachers, and frankly, I think you're right! You told me in class that if any of us are safe coming forward, it's her!"
Hermione shrank, she knew they were right. But fabricating a mother just to shake the suspicion she might be muggleborn? There were other muggleborns roaming around quite happy as they were. Was it so terrible to let Hermione know one damn thing? She couldn't explain it to anyone. She'd always been upset about his refusal to tell her a damn thing about her origins, but actively lying, that-that was just cruel. The worst part was, she knew he thought he was doing the right thing. Well, the road to hell was paved with good intentions.
Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by Luna taking her hand in hers. "Are you okay, Hermione?"
"I'm fine," Hermione shrugged.
"He'd never take you seriously!" Ron protested when Hermione said she was considering telling her father her theory. "You know he wouldn't."
Harry nodded. "I reckon he'd just yell at you and call you mad again. It's a waste of time."
"All it'll do is get us in trouble," Ron said.
Harry rolled his eyes "And more importantly the professors will just try and stop us from figuring it out while doing nothing themselves."
Hermione closed the book in her lap and stared at her two friends. Both making as much sense as the others had, leaving Hermione to wonder what the hell she was supposed to do. She thought back to the stone; had they reacted to the suspicion someone was trying to steal it? Dumbledore only came as a last minute rescue, McGonagall failed to do anything but threaten to take points away, and her father failed to stop Quirrell. For all his insistence that he and the other adults were more capable than they were, they'd done nothing.
And you're just more comfortable not approaching him because you're upset... She admitted to herself. Skylar may or may not have been right in thinking telling someone was the best idea, but O'Malley was right in calling her selfish. She didn't know how to talk to him anymore, and she didn't want to do whatever mental or emotional work it required.
"You're right," she admitted. "But there is one way you can get answers."
"Are going to tell us this century?" asked Ron.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Moaning Myrtle was the muggleborn witch that died when it opened last. Get her to talk to you. If she can tell us who did it last time, we can track down their descendant. Or maybe find the opening. We can find out how to put a bunch roosters in the opening or see if we can pull a Medusa on it once we figure that out."
"A giant mirror and a bunch of roosters don't sound very practical..." Harry ventured. "Maybe Ron and I'll hit the library, maybe we'll find some kind of vulnerability."
"Good luck," Hermione nodded. "I've not had much in that department."
Weeks passed and Hermione's mood failed to improve with her condition. Severus had no idea a twelve-year-old could commit to a silent-treatment for as long as that. Let alone Hermione, who so often felt the need to apologize for the actions of those in close proximity to her that he was certain she would have apologized by now. He still didn't know what the hell he did to earn her ire. Unless she found out about...No, that can't be it! There is one way I can know for sure...No! That's only for when she might be in danger, you stupid piece of shit!
Nearly every time he came by Luna Lovegood was with her, or else her other friends. He noticed a huge difference the number of times that he dropped by between each visitor he walked in on. Potter and Weasley spoke with her in hushed tones that ceased as soon as she indicated she heard his footsteps, the three solemn and serious. Often Lovegood would hang back and leap to speak with her as soon as the boys left. O'Malley and Sloan often joined Lovegood in her visits, and once again hushed tones and a point of tension could be sensed, even after conversations ceased. If Hermione was with Lovegood alone, the two would speak more freely about something or other and it was the only time Hermione seemed at ease. She wasn't bursting with laughter like Lovegood, but she wasn't tensing every muscle of her body, at least not until she caught sight of him. He couldn't deny that hurt.
"Yessir," Hermione answered simply when he asked if she had been keeping up.
'Yessir' and 'No, sir' were the extent of her interactions with him when she could help it. Sadly an improvement from the nods, head shakes and shrugs he'd grown accustomed to over the month. She was mostly human at this point, her fur and whiskers completely gone and her hair had returned to its usual brown and her were very nearly back to their original brown, though one stubbornly darkened at a slower rate, and black cat ears and a tail remained. He expected her to be in higher spirits knowing she'd be out of the hospital soon. The truth was, where she was still healing from the effects of the failed transfiguration while the potion mishap happened, both he and Pomfrey worried it would be much longer than mid-February for her to be released.
"So you'll be starting the core classes at fourth year when you return," he reminded her. "And you'll have to consider electives. Have you put any thought into them?"
She'll have to answer with more than-
"Yessir," she nodded.
Damn it. "And?" he prompted. "Have you-rather which ones have you decided on taking?"
"All of them," she shrugged.
He suddenly saw Hermione burning out at an alarming speed as she tried to take two years' worth of six electives along with the second, third and fourth year course work of her six core classes. Though in her time stuck in hospital she had at least completed all the papers and tests for her current level and most of the third year level. It still was something that he thought was unhealthy. "That's not a good idea. You won't have the time. Most of them will be unnecessary for you anyway."
"Why do you say that?" she asked with a sudden challenge to her voice.
Does everything I say offend you now? Fuck! "You're not exactly going to be using Care for Magical Creatures as a librarian now, are you?"
Hermione forgot she was avoiding looking at him for an instant. Her face fell with her ears as she regarded him with a strange mixture of anger and disappointment that sent chills through him. A familiar pair of impulses warred within him; he wanted to comfort her and earn her forgiveness, but he also wanted to ask her where the hell she got off? Why could he do nothing right?
"When have I ever said I wanted to be a librarian?" she asked.
She didn't. He assumed she did. It was a decent, safe job, she loved books, languages and maths and she could have done it at Hogwarts. Though the safety and proximity to him was admittedly something he seemed to care more for than her. But still, would it be so bad? And why was she so damn angry that he made an assumption many would have?
"Not a librarian then," he sighed. "What then?" Please say teacher...or even healer, that's safe.
"I have no idea," she admitted with a sigh.
Then why the hell were you so damn upset about me suggesting librarian?! "I see. So, you're just looking to keep your options open?"
"Yessir."
"Can I get more than two syllables explaining why you think this is a good idea?" he seethed.
"N-" Hermione sighed and buried her face in her hands. "I have no clue what I want to do," she said in careful even tones after resurfacing. "Percy Weasley has twelve OWLs, so it can't be that hard."
"Percy Weasley and others like him took correspondence courses over the summer," he explained. "Something that wouldn't necessarily help you even if you weren't advancing given that you'll be in Japan."
Hermione's eyebrows knit in confusion and her surprise took the edge from her voice. "Wait, but that seems awfully unfair to muggle-borns."
"Life's not fair, love," he said thinking back to hearing that complaint twenty years ago.
"I can't believe it!" Lily cried. "I've worked my arse off and they won't let me take all the electives because of their stupid rules about minors casting. If my parents were wizards they'd let me do it! This is disgusting!"
"I mean, twelve classes all at once does sound difficult," he offered. "Maybe it's not a bad thing you can't-"
"It's not just about the classes, Severus!" she snapped.
"Then what is it, Lily?"
"Oh, forget it!"
It took him eight years, but he understood why Lily was upset then and why Hermione's rage shifted from him to the system that kept muggle-born witches and wizards down now. Hermione, despite being raised by him, managed to be a decent person. He was proud of that, it wasn't easy for her, but did she have to be so damn...stupid about it? Why was she so stubborn to hurt herself? Whether it be in her attempts help others, or simply her drive to achieve academically, it seemed the girl thought she had to suffer or her attempts weren't good enough. He told her that it was self-destructive. Though it seemed Hermione had now entered that charming little period of life where his words were as good as poison. I thought I had more time...
"Can I move now?" Hermione sighed casting an eye to Luna.
"Nope," Luna said lightly, looking up from her sketch book.
"Please, Luna?" Hermione batted her long lashes in a teasing manner.
"Fine," Luna sighed closing her sketchbook, but her grin betrayed her attempt at a put-upon tone.
Luna had been to see her almost every time she wasn't in class before curfew. She wondered again if Luna knew how contagious her bright mood was. Hermione would be ruminating on some conversation with Harry and Ron or O'Malley and Skylar and all she had to do was smile and Hermione could forget for an instance how dark everything was. She now looked for the swaying dirty blonde hair and skip-like gait when she heard light footsteps. Though she couldn't help but wonder how or when things would go wrong.
"L-Luna!" Hermione giggled playfully swatting the hand scratching behind her ear away.
"Okay, okay," Luna laughed. "I'll stop. Any sightings of secret meetings in the hospital wing at night?"
"I promise if there was a secret cabal of wizards running everything they wouldn't meet in a school hospital wing," Hermione rolled her eyes. "But I'll take notes if they do!"
Hermione had a love-hate relationship with Luna's outlandish claims. When it came to fake creatures she could forgive it, and found it endearing at times, but the more conspiratorial ones were harder to handle. And she could never tell what she sincerely believed and what she was throwing out there to lighten the mood or break a silence. Though if it were published in the Quibbler, Luna revered it as true gospel. She felt the need to defend her father's claims no matter how mad. Hermione could relate to defending someone from hatred of the masses, but if she blindly believed everything her father said to meet that end...
"Do you think you'll come back to the Herald? It was fun when were doing it, but it was more fun with you." Luna twirled a bit of her hair.
"Well, it's not that I don't want to-" Hermione started, clasping her hands.
Hermione heard Ron and Harry approaching with an urgent gait and buried her face in her hands. "Isn't their timing perfect?"
"It's okay, Hermione," Luna smiled clasping her sketchbook to her chest and tucking her wand behind her ear. "I can come back."
"I don't want you to feel like you need to-"
"I'll be back," Luna scratched behind her ear with a smile. "You're not exactly going anywhere, are you?-Hi, Harry! Hi, Ron!"
"I think she's been in to see you more than anyone else," Ron commented watching her skip away. "Does she have any other friends?"
"Skylar and O'Malley," Hermione lied rolling her eyes. If those two gave her a chance. "What's up?"
"We thought we'd try to talk to Myrtle again," Harry explained. "We had no luck getting her to speak, but we found a diary. Do you recognize the name T.M Riddle? Ron reckons he does, but can't place it, and you did all that archival research."
"T.M Riddle..." Hermione mused. She didn't think she'd come across the name at all. "Sorry," she shrugged. "As soon as I'm out of here I'll hit the archives."
"Will you have time?" Ron nudged the mountain of books and parchment neatly stacked and sorted on her bedside cabinet. "You were stuck in the hospital for half the year and it looks like you have more work than the rest of us. You should have said you had to focus on getting better."
"And feed into everyone's perceptions that I'm some frail little girl?" Hermione tried to keep her voice even. "I'll keep up with anything given to me. Can I see the diary?"
Harry dug it out of his school bag and handed it to her.
She'd seen it before. The wavy lined paper between the hard cover, the faded bits of the cover, the dimensions..."This looks like Ginny's diary!" she whispered. "I've seen her carry it around."
"Ginny didn't get her diary from a muggle book shop, Hermione," Ron groaned. "And that's certainly not her name!"
"Maybe it looks like her diary?" Harry offered. "It's completely empty."
It could just look like it. Hermione could be wrong. She was simply putting too much weight into one break down. What if someone had suspected her of being involved in something like this because they caught her in the middle of a breakdown. And Ginny wrote in her diary every night, it wouldn't be empty. And Ron surely would recognise his own sister's diary. Her father knew what hers looked like, which made Hermione uncomfortable enough to write her journal in code. Shit!
"Unless it's invisible ink!" Hermione opened the journal with her wand and whispered the incantation. Now I want to be wrong...
The page remained blank. Hermione felt her heart fall as answers she'd fantasized about being revealed remained elusive. No matter what they tried, they never got any closer to finding the culprit or the opening. The week and a half Hermione was out of the hospital should have been spent more on getting Myrtle to talk. Hermione should have known Myrtle wouldn't take divided attention and the thing dividing Hermione's attention was worthless!
"It was worth a shot," Ron shrugged.
Hermione bit her lip and turned her eyes to the foot of her bed and found a red, rubbery prisim among the folds. "Luna," she sighed. "She forgot her rev-oh, shit!"
"Hermione..." Harry looked at her like she had gone mad.
"It's a revealer," Hermione explained. "Luna has all sorts of things like these. If I just-" she rubbed it on the page like an eraser. "Damn it!"
A blank page stared back at Hermione, taunting her. She flipped to the dates and realized that the diary was fifty years old. "You're right, it can't be Ginny's. Even if she got a diary second hand, it wouldn't be so old. But it's from the time the last the chamber opened. There has to be something!"
"Ron and I will keep working on it," Harry whispered pocketing it. "You have enough on your plate."
"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Focus on getting better. I think I forget what you look like without cat-ears and a tail!"
Hermione bit her lip and dug her nails into her hands. Don't be too upset, he means well...Well-meant! Well-meant is why your father doesn't trust you with your own damn origins! Well-meant bought you weeks in a hospital with no answers! No, no you don't get be angry. Not with them...
"Are you okay?" Harry asked looking over his shoulder and back to her.
"I'm fine," Hermione forced a smile.
"That's a bad idea," McGonagall said what everyone else in the staffroom thought.
Thank you, Severus thought. He'd been overly vocal of his objections, so letting others field their complaints first might mean the staff would take them seriously. He already knew his application for the position would be overlooked next year, so he wondered if he could compile a list of better candidates. He didn't want his daughter anywhere near someone so dangerously oblivious. He wondered if it was even possible for Dumbledore to make a worse choice.
"The kids will love it!" Lockhart argued still smiling. "Teen girls especially adore this stuff. Aren't girls always going on about love potions and charms? I bet it'll perk their moods right up!"
Severus could already imagine Hermione's list of complaints and imagined she'd take up the quill once more to call out the teachers who went along with it. He wouldn't blame her if she did. Why were people socialized to think love spells and potions were romantic? It sickened him how prevalent and unchecked they were. Accepted as something foolish teenagers did, neglecting the very real consequences after the fact.
They debated the merits, as if there were any, and he could sense the others getting fed up with Lockhart's insistence, McGonagall rubbed her eyes beneath her glasses regretting that she ever agreed to field his suggestions when Dumbledore was busy with more important matters. Sprout and Flitwick exchanged exhausted looks while others looked pensive. Like it was harmless and not worth the argue.
"It won't surprise you," he said rubbing his temples. "That I'm not in favour of the idea either. As a teacher I feel it immoral and as a parent-I don't want to find out my daughter was either a perpetrator or a victim. I'm not keen on helping make either a possibility."
Lockhart's lips formed a think crooked line and his blue eyes drifted to a far corner of the ceiling. He seemed surprised at the mention of victims and perpetrators rather than "irresponsible" and "in poor taste". Likely something he didn't want to think of as someone who welcomed all adoration no matter how it was earned. The frank language seemed to make him uncomfortable.
"Perhaps, we should intimate that they're not supposed to use them," Lockhart said after a silence. "Vote?"
You should be used to being outvoted by now...
Hermione was finally released mid-February and was welcomed back to Gryffindor Tower by a flurry of "help me with my homework" requests. She expected as much from Neville, but Ron and Harry knew she had other shit to do! She obliged all the same.
"Oh!" Lavender came up to join the four of them. "Is this homework review?"
"This is wonderful, Hermione," Pavarti smiled awkwardly. "We were, erm, kind of lost."
I just got back! Hermione wanted to cry but knew sleeping in the same room as them made it difficult. "Pull up a chair," Hermione sighed under reproachful looks from Harry and Ron.
"Seamus! Dean!" Lavender called as the two entered the common room. "Hermione's helping us with Snape's sympathetic magic essay!"
Seamus and Dean sat beside the girls with relieved smiles. They almost seemed happy to see her. Hermione remembered pairing with Dean back in first year for potions and how he dreaded being anywhere near her. Seamus wasn't much better. But now that she was useful...still, they were better than Lavender...
"Let's start with where everyone's lost," Hermione sighed.
Five hours passed and Hermione wound up explaining the concept of sympathetic magic to them all, illustrating examples while biting back her impulse to say "Merlin, it was in the fucking book!". They might all treat her civilly if she was nice about it. And if she had the slightest flare of a temper she'd be compared to her father. And she might have owed them for his behaviour... She hated this. Still she smiled and answered stupid questions cordially. Questions aren't stupid! Don't be a bitch! Eventually, she had seven outlines and annotated bibliographies done up for each of them. Her heart thudded in her chest as she broke her cross-reference thrice rule and a knot formed in her stomach. But there was too much, and she started fourth-year classes in the morning and she couldn't afford to fuck up. She wondered if her mind would ever stop telling her it was wrong if she didn't check exactly three times.
"Thanks, Hermione!" Dean sang taking his papers and dashing off.
"Saved our lives!" Seamus agreed taking his and following Dean up to the dorm.
"Erm, thanks, Hermione," Parvarti said. "Normally, I wouldn't have asked but I swear Snape gives us work above level. Anyway, erm, I appreciate it."
She and Lavender disappeared to the girls' dormitory and Hermione noticed Lavender felt no need to thank her after pulling the whole group session on her! It didn't matter, she was tired and done.
"Thanks!" Neville said with more earnesty than the last four. "I tried reading the book and how each element related was hard to parce out. Or I'm just stupid..."
Hermione opened her mouth to speak but Harry spoke for her.
"No one but Hermione got it," Harry explained. "You're not stupid."
"Yeah, I reckon Parvarti's right!" Ron said. "Snape's a total prat giving us this sort of homework! How he managed to raise a girl like Hermione is beyond me!"
Why, Hermione asked herself. Am I so fucking angry at him yet so angry on his behalf? It's not fair! And you don't get to speculate on my upbringing!
Neville disappeared upstairs and Hermione rose to go to bed herself when Ron lightly grabbed her wrist.
"Aren't we going to talk about the diary?" he whispered.
"I don't have any theories you don't, Ron," she sighed. "I just got out of hospital and I'm exhausted. Can it wait till morning?"
"Sure," Harry shrugged. "I reckon we can discuss it in charms with all the usual commotion."
Charms..."Actually, Harry, Ron, I, erm, won't be charms with you. I've been advanced two years, remember? I start tomorrow."
The two exchanged bewildered looks. Hermione had been working to the bone to balance her class work with the investigation. How could they forget something so huge? Hermione bit her lip and clasped her hands together. It was stupid, but she was both angry and disappointed. She knew their birthdays, food preferences, childhood anecdotes, favourite books, and they couldn't remember she was leaving their class?!
"This is the first time you've mentioned it, Hermione," Harry said quietly.
"That can't be-I've known for months...since November. I'm sure I've mentioned-"
"You didn't," Ron said. "Not once."
"But I-" Hermione swallowed. "I had to have told you at some point..."
"You don't think we'd remember something that major, Hermione?" Harry said with an edge to his voice.
Maybe I didn't...I'd been so busy... "Maybe I,erm, did, erm, forget to mention it," she admitted with a deep breath, shrinking under the disappointed gazes. "I'm sorry. I'll talk to you guys about the diary tomorrow, I promise."
Hermione went up to the girls' dormitory as the hurricane of thoughts, anxieties and emotions swept through her. Did it make her a bad friend that she'd never mentioned it? And that she forgot she didn't? Was it fair they were mad at her? Was it fair she was mad at them? Was she really being selfish not telling her father about her theory? The teachers would catch wind eventually right? She was still so upset with her father for-well, lying about her damn existence. Maybe that wasn't fair...did her mother really matter. Yes! He lied to me!
She entered the girls' dormitory and drew back the curtains to her bed to find it had been transfigured into a wicker basket with a bowl of water next to it. Hermione knelt to pick up a folded note written in a hand she didn't recognize reading 'welcome back, stray." Hermione's heart dropped and throat tightened at the realization the older girls were still happy to conspire with Lavender and Parvarti to torment her. That was why Pavarti-who was now fast asleep -was so awkward. She felt guilty. Why was she surprised? Of course something like this was going to happen! She'd done nothing but help them. She didn't understand, Hermione had given so much of herself over the past two years, what had she done to earn their ire? How much more did she have to do to earn, not their approval but, their tolerance? How much more did she have to do for Harry and Ron to listen to her? For her father to tell her the truth?
No matter what you do, it will never be enough. You will never be enough!
She felt pent up tears of frustration, anger, disappointment and hurt fall down her cheeks. Shit! She wiped her eyes and tried to steady breath before drawing her wand.