"It's really kind of you to come down here, Hermione," Hannah said. Her bottom lip wobbled, and she looked near tears. "It's… it's really nice."
"Justin is a good person," Hermione said firmly. "I'm sure Madame Pomfrey will put him to rights as soon as she can, but in the meantime, it still feels like you've lost one of your dearest friends."
Hannah burst into tears, still holding the fruit basket she'd been given by Hermione, and Susan Bones took her into her arms, holding her.
"It'll be okay, Hannah," she soothed her. "He's only Petrified…"
"But what if it had been worse?" Hannah wailed. "He could have died!"
Ernie gave Hermione an uncomfortable look.
"Err," he said. "Would you like to sit down?"
Hermione joined him in taking a seat in a sunken area of the Hufflepuff common room, and she took her time to look around. She'd approached Ernie after dinner Tuesday night in her nicest formal robes, explaining she wanted to offer a gesture of friendship and solidarity to their house, and he'd brought her to their common room with a pleased smile.
The Hufflepuff common room was round and had an earthy, homey sort of feeling. There was a low ceiling and many windows, and even though the sun had set, there was a lingering feeling of sunlight and warmth still permeating the room. There were plants hanging from the ceilings and on the windowsills, and there were copper lamps and other burnished copper decorations spread around the room that gave off or reflected a warm sort of light. There were warm wooden tables and chairs but also a surplus of overstuffed sofas and chairs upholstered in yellow and black.
The Hufflepuff common room felt safe more than anything, Hermione mused. It was like a burrow of happiness and safety nestled into the upper basement of the school, and again, Hermione contrasted it with the stark, austere nature of the Slytherin commons.
"Everyone's worried," Ernie informed her. "This monster business is taking a toll on everyone. We probably have the most Muggleborns in our house of all the houses, and everyone's frightened of their friends being next."
"I'm so sorry," Hermione said. "That's so much stress to bear. With Justin already attacked, and with so many possible victims in your house, that's got to be just awful. We only really have one we need to worry about."
"You?" Ernie frowned.
"We, as in 'we Slytherins'," Hermione clarified. "Our house is only really worried about one person being attacked."
"And it's not you?"
Hermione looked up to see Susan Bones looking at her in interest, guiding Hannah as the two of them rejoining Hermione and Ernie in the sunken pit in the common room. Hannah was sniffling a little, still holding onto the fruit basket Hermione had brought.
"It's not me," Hermione told Susan. "I'm New Blood – that's about as pureblood as a purebloods come, really, whereas the other pureblood houses arguably could have been diluted from their own pureblood founders over the years."
Susan gave her a skeptical look, but Hermione held her confidence.
"If not you," Ernie wanted to know, "then who?"
Hermione looked around furtively.
"Do you know who Alexia Rosier is?" she asked.
Ernie frowned.
"I know the Rosier family by reputation," he said. "Their daughter is a couple years above us, I think?"
"She is," Hermione said. "Only, Alexia Rosier isn't exactly who she claims to be."
In hushed tones, Hermione began telling the surrounding group of the rumors of how the Rosier family hadn't been able to conceive, and how, in desperation, they had bribed someone to get them a name from the Book of Names, and then gone and stolen a baby of their own.
By the time Hermione finished her ominous tale, more Hufflepuffs had come around to listen, their eyes wide. Hermione recognized some of them from classes – Wayne Hopkins, Zacharias Smith, and Megan Jones – but some of them she didn't know. She vaguely recognized a few of them – the Hufflepuff Chasers, maybe?
"That's mad," Zacharias told her, once her story was done. "And you said she's bricking it?"
"Wouldn't you be terrified, in her circumstances?" Hermione countered. "Who would the Heir of Slytherin hate more than a Muggleborn who's been passing herself off as a pureblood over all these years?"
There was a murmur amongst them, and Hermione nodded in satisfaction.
"Exactly," she said. She glanced around. "I'd ask, though, that you not spread this around, though. The Heir of Slytherin clearly couldn't be a Hufflepuff, so I trust you all, but who knows about the other houses?"
"Alexia is a nasty girl," Megan Jones said viciously. "She told me that she'd tell my parents I died well when the monster got me next."
"Nevertheless, I hope no one gets attacked anymore," Hermione said pointedly. "Not even the mean, nasty girls."
Hermione lingered a while, talking about Professor Sprout's latest assignment and essay with a few classmates as the topic shifted, and the Hufflepuffs seemed pleased to have her. Word of the fruit basket she'd brought them for in solidarity for Justin spread across the common room, and she got kind and pleased smiles when she glanced around, and she smiled back. The Hufflepuffs were all so friendly and open, and they were easily accepting of her, even with her green tie. For a moment, Hermione wondered what it would have been like to have been sorted into Hufflepuff, to have been surrounded by love and encouragement and unconditional acceptance her entire school career.
Ernie and Hannah eventually moved away, called to a Gobstones game that needed two more, and an older boy sat down across from Hermione. He was tall and had dark hair cut into waves and bright gray eyes. He looked quite fit – did she recognize him from the Quidditch team? – and he was giving her a quirked sort of smile.
"'The Heir can't possibly be from Hufflepuff'," he repeated. "How do you figure?"
He looked curious and amused, not accusatory, and Hermione shrugged.
"Hufflepuff has put out the lowest number of Dark wizards and witches throughout history," she said. "Just playing the odds, Hufflepuff comes out looking the best. And I don't think a Hufflepuff would ever attack one of their own – you all are known for your incredibly loyalty to each other."
The older boy grinned at her, and Hermione blushed, feeling her face warm.
"Can't argue with that logic," he said cheerily. "A Hufflepuff would never attack one of our own."
He grinned at her, and Hermione smiled back, her face still hot.
"Who are you, anyway?" the boy asked, smiling. "I don't know if we've ever had a Slytherin in our House common room before."
"Ah, I'm Hermione Granger," she said. She stood and swept him a short curtsy. "Pleased to meet you."
The boy's eyes lit with recognition.
"You're the Muggleborn that's not," he said. "I've heard about you. New Blood, I think it was called."
"I'm New Blood," Hermione nodded. "First of my House – a pureblood with Muggle parents."
"That's got to be a trip," the boy said. He was smiling that quirked sort of smile, and Hermione fought to keep from flushing. The boy was very attractive, but Hermione was determined not to be the sort to turn into a stammering fool because handsome boy had smiled at her. "How does Slytherin feel about that?"
"Mixed, mostly," Hermione admitted honestly. "My classmates believe me – they've mostly all heard the prophecy themselves, and they see how well I perform in my classes, so they believe that Magic itself has touched me. The others in the House, particularly the older years – they mostly think I'm just some upstart Muggleborn, and they make sure that I know what they think."
He gave her a commiserating look.
"I'm sorry," he told her. "To not feel welcome in your own House… I could never imagine."
Hermione shrugged, uncomfortable.
"I get by," she said. "Anyway, who might you be?"
"Ah, sorry. I'm Cedric Diggory," he told her. "Fourth year."
He offered her his hand, and Hermione shook it firmly before she realized she had, and Cedric's eyes glinted.
"You are Muggle-born," he said with satisfaction. "Or at least, you actually have muggle parents. I've never seen a pureblood do anything beyond stare at my hand in confusion and derision when I've tried that."
"You were testing me?" Hermione said, her tone one of indignation. "You didn't believe who I said I was?"
"I was." Cedric gave her that quirked smile again. "Slytherins are known for misrepresenting themselves. I like to have faith that people tell me the truth, but it never hurts to gather some evidence to support that belief, does it?"
Hermione was unable to deny his reasoning, and she found she couldn't quite stay mad at him. He was so guileless, grinning at her with that impish smile.
"Hermione?"
Hermione glanced up to see Hannah and Susan standing above her. She stood.
"Yes?"
"Millicent said that you might have something to show us," Hannah said, glancing around. "Though she said we'd have to come to the Slytherin dorms…"
"Oh," Hermione said, remembering. "That's right. Come by on Saturday? Just catch me at lunch, and I'll bring you in."
Hannah gave her a small smile. "Thanks."
Susan looked intrigued but didn't say anything, and Hermione wondered why not.
"You're going to take Hufflepuffs into the snakes' den?"
Hermione glanced back down at Cedric, who was laughing.
"Hufflepuffs invited me into their den," she shot back. "Why would I not do the same?"
"Because Hufflepuffs don't strike first," Cedric said. "Badgers are fierce to protect their own when attack, but we're never the ones to start a fight. Slytherin, however…"
He trailed off, raising an eyebrow, and Hermione felt envious. She still hadn't mastered that skill.
"Snakes will strike when threatened," she said coolly. "Hannah and Susan are second-year girls. I hardly think anyone will flinch, so long as I bring them in blindfolded and make sure they don't know the password."
Cedric laughed uproariously at that.
"And there is the Slytherin nature I've come to expect," he said. "Blindfolding and plugging their ears… Slytherin's paranoia never changes."
"It's not paranoia if they're really out to get you," Hermione snapped back. "The entire school hates us right now, convinced the Heir is among us and striking out."
Cedric sobered at that.
"Let's hope there isn't an Heir, and that this is all some horrible accident," he said gravely. "Maybe the monster got loose on its own, and this is all a tragic mistake."
"If it was just the monster," Hermione questioned, "then who painted the message on the wall in blood?"
Cedric didn't have an answer to that, and Hermione gave him a curt curtsy as she flounced away, returning to her own common room for the night.
"You're saying Winikus' family stole him as a child?" Michael Corner repeated. "Just crept in and snatched him out of the crib?"
"That's what the rumors say," Hermione said. "Some of the rumors say they left some sort of replacement behind, something transfigured into a body for his muggle parents to find, but the Winickuses took Peter and have been raising him as their own pureblooded son all these years."
"A simulacrum, maybe," Terry Boot mused, toying with his quill. "I've read about them, but I'm fairly certain it takes Dark magic to make one."
"Would it surprise you that a family willing to steal an infant would be willing to do Dark magic?" Anthony demanded. He turned to Hermione. "I believe you, Hermione. Peter Winikus is a bad sort."
"Thank you," Hermione said to Anthony. "But I'm just repeating what I've heard. The rumors say that's why he's so terrified all the time, though he's trying to hide it."
"The rumors say so indeed," Luna mused aloud, as she practiced floating her quill above the table. She looked over at Hermione, giving her a small, secretive smile. "I'm sure he hides his terror very well."
Hermione fought to keep from rolling her eyes.
"Of course he does," she snapped. "If it gets out, he figures he's doomed – who would the Heir of Slytherin hate more than a Muggleborn pretending to be a pureblood in the heart of his domain? It's only from the rest of us being around him all the time that we've been able to see him start to crack."
"Well, I'm not surprised," Terry Boot announced. "With the pureblood families' birthrates being as poor as they are, I wouldn't be surprised if there were more stolen Muggleborn babies being passed off as their own."
"You really think so?" Mandy asked, looking ill. "Do you think there are families out there stealing babies still?"
"You-Know-Who fell not all that long ago," Terry said gravely. "And we know not all of his followers were caught. They wouldn't have forgotten the Dark magic he might have taught them – like how to make a simulacrum of a baby's tiny body that they could lay into a muggle crib."
Terry and Anthony began arguing over whether or not it was likely for babies to be being stolen with regularity — Anthony taking the position of if purebloods were so dead set on their blood being pure, they wouldn't pollute it with Muggleborns; Terry taking the counter position that pureblood culture was more about status and standing, and that any Dark pureblood family who needed an heir would be willing to do whatever necessary to ensure they had one. While they argued, Hermione glanced over at Luna, who was looking back at her serenely.
"Such dangerous rumors to spread, Hermione," she said. "I'm sure you've only trusted us with this because we're your friends."
Hermione gave Luna an annoyed look.
"Exactly," she emphasized. "I shared it because you are my friends. I would appreciate it if this information did not end up all over the school."
Luna waved her off casually, dismissive.
"I'll make sure it doesn't leave the house," she said airily, and not for the first time, Hermione wondered just how much Luna could See, and how much was her being preternaturally observant and uncannily canny.