Harry had gossip the next morning – he'd apparently gotten even less sleep than she had, and he'd been able to eavesdrop when Professor Dumbledore returned around 3am, telling Percy and Jade the entire castle had been searched and Black had not been found.
"Snape was suspecting something," Harry told Hermione. "Listen—"
He relayed a conversation Snape had had with Dumbledore, where Snape had indicated he suspected Black may have had inside help from within the castle, and that he had had concerns before the start of term when someone had been appointed. But Dumbledore had shut Snape down firmly, saying he did not believe a single person inside the castle would have helped Black enter it. Snape had seemed to resent Dumbledore's dismissal, apparently, and Harry had noticed.
"That's… interesting," Hermione mused. "The only new teachers are Lupin and Hagrid, and Hagrid's been here forever already."
Harry's eyes widened. "Do you think Lupin knows Black?"
"We'll have to check the yearbooks," Hermione said, shrugging. "Easy enough to find out if they were friends in school. If they were friends after Hogwarts, we're out of luck, but we might get lucky."
To Hermione's irritation, Sirius Black was all the school talked about for days.
More and more ridiculous theories of how he'd slipped by the dementors and infiltrated the school spread as time went on. Hannah Abbot was insisting Black had transfigured himself into a flowering shrub and had entered the castle via Owl Order, while Theo was investigating and trying to figure out if the dementors would have been able to detect Black through Polyjuice Potion. Not that Black would have been able to get Polyjuice Potion, being on the run as he was, Hermione thought to herself, rolling her eyes, but Theo was keen on his theory and researching dementors to try and find out.
The Daily Prophet didn't help matters, either. Perhaps jaded from Dumbledore trying to keep a hush on the basilisk attacks the previous year, multiple people had tipped off the paper, which had immediately published:
SIRIUS BLACK AT HOGWARTS!
Deranged Dark wizard sneaks past Dumbledore's nose!
which was fair, Hermione felt. Sirius Black had sneaked into the castle.
But that wasn't the only story the Daily Prophet had decided to print. They'd also published:
BLACK ATTACKS TREASURED ALUMNA!
Member of Hogwarts staff viciously slashed with knife!
which was about the attack on the Fat Lady. Who was a painting.
Hermione found that headline more than slightly misleading.
They followed that story up with more alarmist headlines:
ARE YOUR CHILDREN SAFE?
Why does Sirius Black want inside Hogwarts, anyway?
which mostly talked about how much Dark wizards hated Harry and Dumbledore, and how because Black had tried for the Gryffindor House Portrait, he probably wanted to murder Harry Potter;
DEMENTORS AND DARK WIZARDS?
Is Sirius Black working with the guards of Azkaban?
the answer to which was unequivocally 'no', but brought up some good points about the inscrutable motivations of the dementors and why they might 'give' the Ministry their loyalty, which were questions Hermione appreciated being brought to light;
MINISTRY AT A TOTAL LOSS; BEGS HELP FROM PUBLIC
How did Black escape Azkaban? How did he break into Hogwarts unseen?
which was patently false, as the Ministry would not ask the average layperson for help catching a highly volatile criminal, but allowed the Daily Prophet to ask readers for their theories, under the guise that they would screen them and then pass on the best ones to the Ministry; and:
HOW BLACK MIGHT HAVE DONE IT
We share your theories on Sirius Black!
which was just pages of completely mental theories submitted by readers, none of which seemed very plausible at all and seemed to do nothing but feed into the Sirius Black fervor that was constantly going around. They'd even gotten an ink artist of some sort to illustrate some of the theories, decorating the two-page spread on the crazy theories with animations of Sirius Black bribing dementors or riding a Disillusioned magic carpet.
The power of the Daily Prophet was noticeable to Hermione. Each time a new article with a new sensationalist headline came out, whispers and worries about Sirius Black would increase again, keeping him on the forefront of everyone's minds. Hermione couldn't help but wonder why the Daily Prophet was so hung up on Sirius Black, even when there weren't any new developments in the hunt for him. Maybe someone working there had a grudge...?
The articles, in addition to alarming the students, also seemed to have an indirect effect on the professors, who were also kept uncomfortably aware and wary of Black and his attempted attack.
As a result, Harry was being watched closely by all the teachers, with Percy Weasley even tailing him at times like a watchdog between classes. Professor McGonagall had tried to stop Harry from Quidditch practice, deeming it too much of a risk, which had been Harry's breaking point. He'd been outraged and pitched a fit, and Professor McGonagall had eventually conceded to let him continue practicing as long as Madam Hooch oversaw practices for the Gryffindor team.
As a result, Harry was in a very bad mood when he met with Hermione after classes on Wednesday.
"At least the library is inside the castle," he groused, "so they can't stop me from coming here."
Hermione rolled her eyes and ignored his attitude.
Harry's bad mood soon fell away as they investigated yearbooks, though. Not only were Lupin and Black from the same year in Hogwarts, but they were from the same year as Harry's father as well – all three of them in Gryffindor.
"They… they were dormmates?" Harry said, eyes wide. "Lupin… Lupin knew my Dad?"
Hermione let him look over pictures in the 7th year yearbook, lingering over photos of his father and mother, who waved up at him, while she discreetly took the previous year's yearbook and paged through that instead.
It was as she'd thought; Black and Lupin had been in the same year in school, and not only that – they'd been in Snape's year as well. Judging from the utter loathing Snape looked at Lupin with, she suspected they hadn't been friends.
If Snape had suspected Lupin of letting Black into the castle, and Snape hated Lupin, that meant Black and Lupin had probably been friends, and Snape had probably hated Black as well. She wondered why – had it been a Gryffindor/Slytherin rivalry grown out of control? Or was there some deeper reason at fault?
She had some of her answers, at least. She pointed out that Snape was in the same year to Harry, explaining his suspicion of Lupin's connection to Black, and Harry nodded absently.
"That makes sense, I guess," Harry said, clearly distracted. "Thanks."
He continued to linger over a photo of his mother, posing outside with several classmates, and Hermione left him to his melancholy as she stood back up to research something else that had been on her mental list.
Damocles' Dictionary of Potions was a dry book to read, but an excellent reference for potions in general. It listed every known published potion alphabetically, explaining the potion and its effects. The index was enchanted brilliantly, allowing you to look up potions by ingredient, by effect, or by appearance. Hermione had never managed to read through it in its entirety, but she'd used it several times to look up potions by ingredients for various essays Snape had assigned.
The list of potions that smoked was a short one, and the potions were easily mentally crossed off by Hermione. The Dogsbane Potion and the Noxious Potion made no sense in context, which only left…
"Wolfsbane?" Hermione murmured. She peered closer, reading. "What have we here…?"
Wolfsbane was a very complicated potion that helped to relieve the symptoms of lycanthropy, first created in the past ten years by Damocles Belby, author of the very dictionary she was using. It allowed a werewolf to maintain human control of their mind during the time they were transformed, instead of being turned into a raging violent beast. It also had a unique dosage requirement – one full gobletful each day of the week preceding the full moon.
And when completed correctly, it exuded a faint blue smoke.
It took a moment to retrieve her Astronomy notes from her bag, and Hermione nibbled on a quill as she looked over what she knew.
The first relevant full moon had been on August 31st – Hermione had done a ritual with the full moon that night, so she could recall the date with utter certainty. Lupin had been exhausted and had looked dreadful when she'd shared a train compartment with him the day after on September 1st. It was fairly likely a werewolf would be exhausted after a night of moon madness, Hermione mused, so that was a point in favor of her theory.
The September full moon had fallen over a weekend, so Hermione dismissed it from her mind. There was no evidence to verify anything based on that – it wasn't like she paid strict attention to the staff table at every meal to see who was present or not. But the next full moon caught her eye – Friday, November 5th.
That was in two days.
Hermione bit her lip, considering.
Well, she supposed, she did have DADA first thing on Friday morning. Maybe she'd be able to tell one way or another based on how anxious Lupin looked. The run-up until the full moon was stressful and exhausting for werewolves, the book told her – perhaps she could gather more evidence there.
She quietly excused herself to Harry, who was still absorbed in the yearbooks, and kept her suspicions to herself.
Hermione's suspicions were further supported by the fact that on Friday, Lupin was absent from class. Instead, Professor Snape was substituting, and he began class by informing them that Professor Lupin was ill and that he was filling in. One Ravenclaw asked what Lupin was sick with, and Hermione didn't think she was imaging the curl to Snape's lips as he replied with a sneer.
"Nothing life-threatening," he said, though it looked like he wished it were. "Now, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far…"
Several Ravenclaws began to volunteer such information – they tended to take meticulous notes – but Snape ignored their raised hands.
"You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly overtaxing you – I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and grindylows. Today we shall discuss..."
He flipped to the back of the book to the very last chapter, which he must know they hadn't covered.
"...werewolves."
Hermione gasped, then quickly muffled herself with her hands. Snape's eyes flew toward her, sharp.
"Problem, Miss Granger?" he asked silkily.
"No, sir," Hermione replied quickly. "I was just caught off-guard. We were due to start hinky-punks—"
"As it so happens, I am teaching this lesson, not you," Snape said in a voice of deadly calm. "Turn to page 394." He looked around the class. "All of you! Now!"
With muttering and curious glances, the students all flipped open their books.
"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between a werewolf and a true wolf?" said Snape.
Everyone sat in motionless silence; they hadn't gotten this far yet. Hermione kept her hand down as well, unable to believe what she was seeing.
"Anyone?" Snape said. His face made a twisted smile. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between—"
"We told you," Padme cut in, "we haven't gotten as far as werewolves yet, we're still on—"
"Silence!" snarled Snape. "Five points from Ravenclaw for interrupting." He sneered out over them. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one…"
Hermione couldn't help it; she broke into giggles.
Snape was flat out trying to tell them that their DADA teacher was a werewolf. She figured that information would be top secret – it probably was, and maybe Dumbledore had made Snape vow that he couldn't tell anyone directly, but he was clearly doing his damnedest to get Lupin's secret outed anyway. She couldn't believe it, and her incredulous giggles amplified into helpless laughter at the absurdity of it all.
Blaise stared at her in horror, while Snape whirled on her, eyes flashing.
"Miss Granger, is something funny?"
"No, sir," Hermione gasped, trying desperately to stop laughing. "I think—cursed—"
Blaise grabbed her hand tightly under the desk and aimed his wand at her. "Finite Incantantem."
His spell did nothing, but his nails cutting sharply into her hand and the feel of his magic pressing up against hers through their coven bond did, jolting Hermione out of her laughing fit. She managed to look up at Snape apologetically.
"Sorry, sir," she said.
"There is to be no jinxing in this class," Snape snarled at them all. "Fifty points off whomever tries to cast during class again!"
Snape proceeded to lecture them about werewolves and make them take notes from the textbook for the entire class period. The class obeyed in sullen silence; they weren't the type to mouth off to Snape, but Hermione suspected the following Gryffindor and Hufflepuff class was not going to go as smoothly if Snape was covering that lesson block as well.
"You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves," Snape informed them. "I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand."
The bell rang, and most of the students got up to leave. Hermione ignored the bell.
"Is that what we're supposed to do, sir?" Hermione couldn't help but ask. "Kill them?"
Snape turned to look at Hermione, eyes glittering.
"I beg your pardon?"
"If we recognize a werewolf," she said, "are we supposed to kill them? Regardless of if they're in human or wolf state? Or if they're on a course of treatment to suppress their symptoms?"
Snape's eyes widened and his nostrils flared; Hermione suspected he'd just realized she'd known from the start (or at least suspected) that Lupin was a werewolf. She also suspected he'd assigned the essay as a silent way of further leading the students to the realization that a werewolf was teaching them, not actually as a guide for them to kill their DADA professor.
It was kind of funny to watch the flashes of emotion across Snape's face as he thought on the issue. He knew that she knew Lupin was a werewolf, and he clearly couldn't advocate for the actual murder of a teacher, no matter how much he loathed him.
"You will find, Miss Granger," he said finally, "that werewolves are very dangerous creatures, and they pose a significant threat to society, regardless of the form they are in. As such, though there are very few laws regarding werewolves, they themselves enjoy very few legal protections. Their ability to pass undetected is their strongest defense."
The class was emptying out, and Hermione waited until everyone else had left.
"Might I request to do my essay on a slightly different topic, sir?" she inquired. "Such as on the legislation surrounding werewolves and the dangers they pose to society? And how best to mitigate those dangers?"
Snape's eyebrow rose.
"What makes you so special, Miss Granger?" he sneered. "That you would get a different assignment than the rest of the class?"
Hermione raised her own eyebrows.
"I'm presuming you're hoping the class realizes something in the process of writing said essay, sir," she said. "As I already have come to such a realization, I thought perhaps I could focus on something more actionable instead. Unless you'd like me to do the essay and begin killing werewolves immediately, of course, sir."
She smiled sweetly at him, and Snape's eyes glittered.
"Get out, Miss Granger," he spat. "Just get out."
"Of course, sir. Of course."
Hermione flounced out of the room, hair bouncing behind her.
She didn't have much time before History, but she had a little bit of time, and she made a quick detour to the Owlry, scribbling out a note on one of the stony windowsills with her quill.
Dear Professor Lupin,
I understand you are unwell today; I hope you are feeling better soon.
Professor Snape filled in for you today. He started us on werewolves, despite our explanations that we weren't yet that far in the curriculum. He also assigned a two-roll essay on how to recognize and kill werewolves, to be turned into him on Monday.
Based on this, I wanted to ask if you would cancel the essay so we would not have to do it. It hardly seems fair to have students scramble all weekend to complete a two-roll essay that's not even going to be turned into the instructing professor who is in control of our grades.
And, if I might suggest – if you agree, you might want to send notes to your third-year classes as soon as possible telling them not to do the essay. If you wait until Monday, some of the students are bound to have it done on time.
I hope you feel better, Professor. Though I'm sure you're staying locked up in your rooms so as not to spread your infection, I'm sure with steady potion treatment, you'll be back as strong as ever soon.
Yours truly,
Hermione Granger
She sent the note off with a school owl and dashed back down the stairs to the History classroom. She was late, but Lockhart waved her off, instead continuing his excited explanation of the role of centaurs in magical society throughout history. Blaise raised an eyebrow as she slid into her seat, questioning, but Hermione shook her head slightly, instead taking out her parchment and quill.
It was after Transfiguration at the end of the day that Hermione received an owl response, the owl finding her by chance as she ducked outside to see if it was twilight yet, or if the moon had risen.
Dear Miss Granger,
Thank you for your concerns over my health.
I agree with you; Professor Snape was asked to fill in while I was ill, not completely alter the curriculum, and he is out of bounds. I will cancel the essay; you and your classmates do not have to complete it. I will send word to all my classes he covered today that no homework assigned by Professor Snape need be completed.
I am, indeed, staying locked up in my rooms for the duration of my illness. Professor Dumbledore has been very helpful in gaining Professor Snape's aid in procuring treatment for me. It has been helping, and I suspect I will be hearty and hale once more after the weekend.
At such a time, Miss Granger, I should like to invite you for a cup of tea, if you would be willing.
- Professor R. J. Lupin
Hermione read the scroll and grinned.
It seemed Professor Lupin spoke Slytherin after all.
"What's that?" Blaise wanted to know, seeing the scroll clutched in her hands as she came in to dinner.
"Confirmation from Lupin that we don't have to do Snape's essay," Hermione said promptly. "I pointed out it was grossly unfair for someone not the course's instructor to assign such homework for a grade to be graded by them, and Lupin agreed."
"Hermione, want to get out of homework?" Tracey gasped in mock horror, but Millie laughed.
"I'm with Hermione on this one," Millie said. "I don't want to waste my weekend on an essay that's not even going to be for a proper grade."
"Wonder how annoyed Snape will be that we don't have to do the essay," Blaise remarked. He glanced at Hermione. "Hopefully Lupin won't tell him who went behind his back to appeal."
Hermione bit her lip. "I wonder…"
She looked up at the Head Table as dishes began filling on the tables, carefully taking in the teachers seated above. Lupin was absent, which she had entirely expected, but what she didn't expect was the expression on Dumbledore.
Tonight, there was no twinkle in Dumbledore's eye. Instead, he looked large and forbidding, his eyes sharp and angry. He glanced from time to time down the table at Snape, who was ignoring the Headmaster entirely. Snape looked to be in a furiously bad mood, stabbing his food with a viciousness that was completely uncalled for, and Hermione felt a thin thread of satisfaction curl within her chest.
Honestly, she'd probably had let the essay pass unchallenged if Snape hadn't been rude to her about it all, she mused. If more of her classmates figured out Lupin was a werewolf, what was it to her? It wasn't like she was thrilled with the idea, regardless of if Lupin was on the Wolfsbane potion or not. It would only take one missed dose for possibly horrible consequences in a school full of vulnerable children. She'd approached him as an adult and with proper respect about the essay, but Snape hadn't returned the courtesy, and he hadn't given her a direct answer as to whether or not he actually wanted his colleague murdered.
Hermione helped herself to a roll before pausing abruptly, a new thought suddenly occurring to her.
"What is it?" Blaise asked, sharp as ever, and Hermione's hand slowly withdrew, clutching the roll as her eyes went wide.
"I think I might have blackmailed someone," Hermione said, blinking.
Blaise started snickering. "Without realizing it?"
Hermione gave him a sheepish grin, and Blaise laughed.
"I'll need the full story after dinner, you realize," he told her. "We'll figure out if you've actually gotten yourself involved in a blackmail scheme or not, and where to go from there."
"Have much experience in blackmail, do you?" Hermione teased.
Blaise only grinned. "You might be surprised."