Chapter 7
Sometimes, Hermione wondered what she was doing in Gryffindor. The young witch pushed against the crowd around her, Ron Weasley at her side, followed closely by Neville. She could practically feel Neville's worried stare at her back. The unlikely trio slowly made their way out of the stands.
She wasn't brave, not really. The brunette took calculated risks and weighed her options before making precise choices based on potential outcomes. If she could erase the possibility of failure, Hermione would always choose the path that led to her goal. She didn't take significant risks.
She never purposefully ran into danger! What was Harry thinking? He should have quit the moment the damn bludger started to attack him. She couldn't believe that they allowed Lockhart to try and heal him.
"What do you think happened?" An older Gryffindor girl could be heard asking her friend.
"You've seen Lockhart in class. Madame Pomfrey will most likely be able to fix whatever he did." The second older Gryffindor girl shrugged. "Without her, we might be out a seeker for the season."
Hermione couldn't help but shoot them a glare. Harry could be seriously injured! Yet all they wanted to do was gossip about Lockhart. "Ignore them 'Mione," Ron grunted as he glared at the older year.
"Let's just go to the Hospital Wing," Neville said from behind. The trio hurried along, pushing past all the mingling students. When the trio arrived at the Infirmary, the younger students could see the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team standing in the hallway.
The team was huddled together, glancing over towards the doors. Spotting his brothers, Ron stepped in front, shouting out, "Oi! Fred, George, any word on Harry?"
The twins glanced towards the hall, spotting the trio, glancing at each other when they spotted the glare of the tiny witch beside their brother. "Look here, Gred. What do we have here?"
The second twin grinned, "It's our star seeker's little pals! Say, Forge, don't you find it odd we beat them here?"
His twin shrugged, "Greddie, we did have the blessing of following behind the lovely Madam Pomfrey."
"Knock it off, you bloody gits," Ron scowled up at his siblings. "How's Harry?"
Hermione elbowed Ron in the ribs, sending him a warning look. Much to the amusement of everyone else, Ron's ears turned pink, forcing him to look away with a scowl. "He's our friend," Ron muttered.
"They are his teammates," Hermione rebutted, looking towards the twins, and she locked eyes with one. "Fred, did Madame Pomfrey tell you anything?"
The twins grinned at each other, "How does she do it, Forge?"
His twin offered an easy-going grin, "I don't know, brother mine. Perhaps we can arrange a trade?"
Before Hermione could retort, the Gryffindor captain Oliver Wood stepped forward. "Fred, George, Madame Pomfrey just gave permission for visitors. Let them go first."
The twins bowed in unison, allowing the small trio to pass, "Say hello to Harry for us!"
The witch heard a slap on the head along with Angelica's annoyed voice telling them, "Shut up, you gits."
"Remind me never to get on Angelica's bad side," Neville murmured from her left. Ron shivered as the Hospital Wings doors were opened, "You don't need to tell me twice."
They found the Healer beside a single hospital bed where their injured friend lay. Looking up from her work, the Healer shook her head, "I should have assumed it was the two of you. Alright, you three, you have ten minutes. This boy is in for a long night and needs his rest."
The trio quickly took over the space that the Healer once occupied. Hermione immediately wrapped her arms around Harry's neck. "Harry!" She cried, only loosening her grip when she felt Harry struggle to breathe for a second.
"Sorry," Hermione murmured so only they could hear. Harry gave her an amused look, turning towards their friends. "Guys, I'm fine, really. I'm stuck here so I can safely re-grow my bones."
Neville winced, "Skel-grow?"
Harry sighed, "That bad, huh?"
Ron nodded, "My brother Charlie had to use it once, said it hurts like hell."
Harry shook his head with a rueful smile, "Madame Pomfrey was furious that Professor Dumbledore allowed Professor Lockhart to attempt to heal me." Hermione frowned, noticing that he winced as he moved his arm.
"Did Madame Pomfrey treat you yet?" The witch fretted.
Harry sighed, "I'm on a pain relief potion. She said it's best to be given it at night so I can heal overnight. Hermione, I'll be fine."
Neville patted her on the arm, "Harry's in good hands, Hermione. But I am more concerned that Lockhart was allowed to use a healing spell when we had a medi-witch nearby."
Ron frowned, "But he's a professor. It's not like he meant for the spell to fail."
Hermione scowled, "How often have you seen a professor use a failed spell?"
Silence greeted her. The witch nodded, "Exactly. I don't know what the Headmaster was thinking!"
"Hermione," Harry called her name hesitantly as she started ranting against the adults.
Hermione paused in her rant, "Don't tell Lady Longbottom," Harry requested.
"Don't tell Gran?" Neville squeaked, knowing his grandmother would want an update on her wards. He didn't want to talk to her about many things, but he's never actually kept anything from her.
Ron nodded, "Your gran is rather scary, Neville. Besides, it's Dumbledore, and Harry is fine! He'll be back by tomorrow."
"Harry," Hermione started, only to be interrupted by Madam Pomfrey entering the room from her office.
"Alright. Times up, and I know the Gryffindor Team would like to see their teammate before dinner," The Healer announced. "You can come collect him tomorrow morning if you must."
"Please, Hermione," Harry pleaded. "I don't want her to worry."
Hermione frowned, only conceding as she saw the look of pure panic on her friend's face. "No promises if anything else comes up," She vowed.
Harry nodded, "Alright, deal."
XXX
The Dr's Granger quietly sat down at their table. The male Dr. Granger held the glasses as his wife set down their meal. The two worked in tantum together. He focused on making the salad while she focused on the ham. Years of working together showed how they quickly moved around one another. Once the salad was complete, he finished with the potatoes while she placed their plates on the table. Only after all the small jobs were done, when they saw the empty seat at the table, did they talk about the elephant in the room.
"Helen, staring at Hermione's dinner seat is not going to magically bring her here," Richard Granger said jokingly. The man stared intently at his wife, "What's bothering you, Helen?"
His wife stayed silent for a time, looking away from their daughter's empty place and setting towards the dinner on her plate. Richard didn't prod her for more, having spent many years with the woman before him.
Hermione took after her; Richard was more of a thinker. He would sit and stew in his thoughts by himself before he would share. Helen and Hermione, well, their minds raced with thoughts far faster than Richard could comprehend. He was an intelligent man; he managed to get through university and catch and keep the attention of a woman whose worldly experiences outmatched his own in terms of extravagance, travel, and the culture of those who simply didn't have to count every penny.
Through his years of trial and error with Helen, he knew if she was taking this long to think of her response, she was conflicted. She wanted to make every word count. Allowing her this time to process, he cut into his food, allowing her to do the same.
Finally, "I'm worried that we made the wrong decision in sending Hermione to Hogwarts."
Richard nodded, "You know I share your concerns, but I thought we decided last year that the benefits of sending her into the wizarding world outweighed what we knew was happening in our world. Do you know something, Helen?"
Helen nodded, "I've gotten the same letters you have. It's just I know our daughter is keeping things from us. Now that we've agreed to a sponsor, any information the school is willing to give out will go to Augusta Longbottom. Not that the school bothered to share anything. I still find the letter about that Professor suspicious," Helen muttered.
Richard sighed, placing his fork down, "Helen, I share your frustration at the lack of transparency. Especially given how vague Hermione has been about last year. Still, Hermione did come to us about her challenges fitting in. Professor McGonagall said that while Hogwarts would inform us of anything related to Hermione, I admit the school's been vague."
Helen huffed, "They never bothered to explain what kind of incident led to the Professor's death. I swear something has happened at that school that Hermione is not telling us outside of cultural differences."
Richard nodded, "Then how about we go to someone capable of getting answers?"
Helen looked at her husband, "You want to contact Lady Longbottom?"
"She is Hermione's magical guardian. She should be able to access her school records. You must admit she'd be able to at least tell us if they hid anything from us if we were to ask for ourselves."
Helen sighed, "I don't know whether to be grateful to the woman or frustrated that a stranger has easier access to my daughter than I do."
Richard looked at his wife, sharing in her frustrations. He reached over the table and held her hand in his. "If the school won't be forthcoming, perhaps Lady Longbottom will. Now that we've enrolled her, Hermione would be at risk of having her wand snapped if she left before she finished her OWLS."
Helen rolled her eyes, "Darling, I assure you now that we have Lady Longbottom, and a decent amount Hermione would be allowed to transfer."
Richard frowned, "Now, when did you learn this."
Helen pats his cheek softly, "I've known plenty of politicians in my day. If being a muggle-born works against Hermione. Having an aristocratic pureblood on her side and money? They'd turn a blind eye. It's simply an option most don't have."
Richard shook his head, "Filthy rich people muggle, or magical, I don't understand them."
"Say's the man with his own Dental practice," Helen grins. "You are well off enough. I don't think you can say that anymore, darling."
"Have I ever told you how you wound my pride?" He pouted pitifully.
"Every day since I said I do," Helen smiled, taking a bite off her plate. "You must admit you've come a long way from college."
Richard smiled easily with his wife, "That we have, Helen. A long way off from the spoiled princess I met."
SPLAT!
The male Dr. Granger blinked slowly as a piece of carrot fell down his face. "Helen?"
"Yes, Dear?" His wife smiled sweetly.
"This is war."
XXX
November 9th, 6:00AM
Slytherin Common Room
Marcus Flint hated early morning as he stared unblinkingly at the wall. The House Elves had alerted the entire house to an impromptu meeting in the common room. He quickly dressed along with the other 6th-year boys and entered their common area.
He watched Slytherin's house quietly exit their beds precisely sixty minutes before breakfast. First and Second-years quickly found themselves on the floor. Third through seventh, filing out depends on various social circles and status within their house. Prefect Adrian Pucey stood alongside his female counterpart, Olivia Warrington. They were assigned to look out for the younger years while their 5th-year counterparts learned from them and performed their duty of ensuring everyone knew of the Emergency House Meeting.
"Adrian, do you have any idea what this is about?"
Adrian met the gaze of Marcus Flint, "No, but I have a bad feeling about it. Could mean trouble for Slytherin."
"Slytherin House," Came the voice of their Head of House as he swept into the common room. He glanced around the room, not seeing a single missing face, "Last night, another student was petrified. "
Their eyes narrowed across his elitist students, daring them to speak out. "You know what this means for Slytherin House."
Adrian's mouth clenched. The entire school would assume it was one of them harming the muggle-born students. House Pucey was an old Pureblood house, not as notable as the Black's or Malfoy's. Adrian's ancestry held a few half-bloods, his forefathers believing that magical strength was more important than pure blood. Especially if one preferred to marry someone within their own country. The magical communities were small in comparison to their muggle counterparts.
Despite Slytherin's darker reputation. The house was full of children. How could any child be capable of doing this? None of the current seventh years were capable, nor were their genealogies long enough for anyone to assume a link to their Founder. The number of families with blood ties was at least centuries old, given the last known descendants perchance for marrying siblings.
A step that few families took so judiciously. Matriarchs of the old families kept their genealogies updated; the moment an abnormality was created in the bloodline, the curse or condition was written down, and the families stopped marrying for several generations at minimum. Marrying so closely often produced fewer magically gifted children and increased birth defects or familial curses.
Such a family had few current ties, and its last known member was rotting in Azkaban for muggle batting and murder. No student in Slytherin held close family ties to the Gaunts, the previously known wizarding family with Salazar Slytherin's bloodline. Whatever happened with the school had to be someone of age and couldn't be on school grounds without the Headmaster knowing.
So the question was, what was causing this chaos, and if anyone controlled it?
Adrian took the chance to meet the gaze of his friend Marcus Flint. They shared a slight nod. The school would be against them, "Sir? Who was it?" Marcus found himself asking. Severus Snape's eyes seemed to gleam, making Marcus let out an inaudible sigh of relief. He had asked the right question.
"A first-year Gryffindor. Colin Creevey, another muggle-born"
A seventh-year scoffed, "Good riddance. At least we will get a break from him constantly asking Potter for an autograph." The crowd chuckled.
Marcus tried to hide his smirk as their head of house rounded on him. "I didn't realize you were a fool, Mr. Summers. This attack will see Slytherin's house under intense scrutiny. And even your graduation will be in jeopardy when they fail to find the culprit."
The crowd of students went silent, as each was filled with dread. They understood what their Head of House was saying. Without a culprit, the school was in jeopardy if these attacks continued. Hogwarts had been threatened with closure once before, sometime in the 40s, or was it the 50s? Adrian couldn't say he had been paying particular attention.
His family's specialties lay in Charm work. They weren't historians with a gift of memory. But even Adrian knew what it would mean if Hogwarts was closed for good. The political ramifications were broad and meant one less magical school for magical families to consider. Not that many went outside of family legacies or countries of origin. But the ramifications of attacks without a known culprit and the house the school would blame…
"Do you understand?" Professor Snape growled.
"Yes, Sir," The house echoed as one.
"Starting today, no one is to move alone. You are to stay in groups. If you must part from your group, at the very least alert your prefects and take someone with you. You may not be a target, but the other Houses may start retaliating," Severus Snape sighed. "Come to me if this happens. Understood?"
"Yes, Sir."
"The Headmaster has instituted a strict curfew of 9pm, no exemptions. Do not let others see you squabbling outside the common room. If I hear of one of you causing any unnecessary commotions, you will be scrubbing cauldrons until your graduation," Professor Snape said softly; his voice was made of steel. He took the time to look everyone in the eye. Marcus eyed his house, wondering if an overly confident upper year or a clueless first year would dare challenge their Head of House.
Silence reigned.
XXX
Ron, Hermione, and Neville smiled at Madam Pomfrey as she reluctantly let them in just before breakfast started in the Great Hall. The Healer narrowed her eyes at the group of Second-Year Gryffindors, "Mr. Potter, you are not to leave until I release you. Is that understood? I have a meeting with the Headmaster; we will work on your release once I return."
"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," Harry smiled at her, his eyes glancing over at the row of beds that were curtained off from the rest of the wing. The Healer narrowed her eyes at the quartet only to let out a small sigh, "Try not to get into any further trouble while I'm gone?"
"I'll keep an eye on them, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said, her hand on Harry's, squeezing tightly, her brown eyes telling him to behave. It was only when the doors to the Infirmary shut that Harry turned towards them.
"Colin's been petrified," He told them bluntly, pointing to the corner beds shut off. "I saw them levitate him in last night."
His friends gasped. Ron and Neville turned white as sheets while Hermione bit her lower lip. "Do they know what happened?" Neville asked in a whisper.
"Just that Nearly Headless Nick was also petrified. They seemed…terrified." Harry glanced at his friends, "Have you guys heard anything while I've been here?"
Ron shrugged, saying, "Mate, with your injury during the Quidditch match from a loose bludger? I'm not surprised this hasn't gotten out yet."
"The entire school is going to know by the end of the day," Neville said, shaking his head. "The staff has to do something at this rate. Most likely a stricter curfew until the culprit is caught."
Ron rolled his eyes, "We all know it was someone in Slytherin! You all heard Malfoy."
Harry found himself nodding to Hermione's scoff, "I understand Malfoy is a level A class ponce, but he is twelve! Do you really think someone in our year could cause this much chaos?"
"You didn't see him over the summer, Ron," Harry added. "He's probably as brilliant as Hermione, but this? He's a jerk, Ron, but not even my cousin would be this hateful, and he never pulled his punches."
Hermione's eyes narrowed at the new information. Harry let drop, only unclenching her fist when she looked up, feeling a hand on her, finding Neville nodding in understanding. Letting out an inaudible sigh, knowing she had an ally, Hermione turned back to a scoffing Ron.
"Harry, don't let his age fool you. Malfoy's been learning from his Death Eater of a father. I bet you they are behind this. His dad has got to be helping him somehow," Ron insisted.
Neville looked at Ron, "It's not like we have any proof. You three have a difficult history. The Professor knows this. Besides, other than explaining that the targets are muggle-born, what has he done?" Neville questioned in a rare show of confidence.
Ron looked gobsmacked. Harry nodded, "We'd need proof, but it's not like we can pretend to be Slytherin."
Hermione bit her look, looking guilty, unwillingly catching Harry's eyes. His bright green eyes widened, "Hermione?"
"Hermione, no," Neville whined.
"I was doing academic research!" Hermione defended herself. "I didn't exactly go looking for potions that would let me sneak into another house's common room."
Neville let out a whine, "Is it dangerous?"
Ron and Harry looked between the pair eagerly, "Hermione, what did you find?"
"It's called the Polyjuice potion. It's very complex and way above our year. It's only covered in NEWT potions, but I was doing research in the restricted section…"
"Lockhart?" Neville questioned.
Hermione blushed, "He never looks at the paper when you ask. He simply thinks you're asking for an autograph. If he does pay attention, flattery works."
Ron whistled, "Hermione tricking a teacher reminds me of when you set Snape on fire."
"That was different". Hermione huffed. "This was an omission for academic purposes! Other professors would have granted me access!"
"To the restricted section?" Neville asked skeptically.
"Maybe not to that particular book, but I needed to cross-reference something I found."
Neville found himself sharing a look with Ron and Harry at Hermione's insistent defense of herself. Before Neville could share his concern with a twelve-year-old brewing a NEWT-level potion, Ron and Harry leaned in, encouraging her.
"Do you think you can do it?" Harry asked.
"How long will it take?" Ron asked seconds later. Neville took one look at Hermione's caving face and the earnestness of the other two boys and internally groaned.
His grandmother would kill them when she found out. If his grandmother found out. He could feel Ron's eyes on him as if daring him to say something negative. He had to say something! This could be dangerous, as some ingredients would be challenging. He could simply agree not to help.
That'll stop them, right?
"Hermione, what about the ingredients? They would hardly be in first or second-year stores that we have access to," Neville pointed out, wincing at Ron's glare while Harry seemed to deflate.
"We'd have to distract Professor Snape, but I think I could get what I need from his stores when we need it. I need to recheck the recipe," Hermione said, eyeing Harry carefully. "It allows us to take someone else's form for an hour."
"Wicked," Ron grinned, "How soon can you brew it?"
"It'll take at least a month, and I must review the recipe again. But if all goes well, we can finish it in time for Christmas break."
XXX
A.N: Hello Everyone! Thank you for your patience! What do you guys think of the story so far? As always, any criticisms are welcome as long as they are meant to be helpful.