The Pseudonyms

Harry:

"Do you reckon Rosalie's able to do so much with the wards because Rowena created them?" Harry asked Draco later that day.

"Geesh, Potter, I don't know. Why don't you ask the founders?"

Draco was in an absolutely foul mood. He'd been snapping at them for the last hour, but hadn't left the group yet. He just wandered behind them, stomping his feet.

Rosalie grabbed some fruit off a plate. She was still looking a little pale and kept blinking and wincing, as if her eyes hurt. Harry was starting to worry about her. She seemed to be getting more used to Hogwarts, but constantly seemed tired and run down.

They turned to leave and bumped into Hermione, who had stopped in the Great Hall behind them without warning. She was fixated on a point further down the Ravenclaw table. As a unit, Harry, Draco, and Rosalie turned.

Marietta Edgecombe was holding her scarf in front of her face. Only her eyes were visible. She was recognisable because of her hair, her proximity to Cho, and the way she looked at them.

Hermione drew her wand and walked down the aisle. Marietta got up to leave, but Hermione summoned the scarf before she could get far. Marietta panicked, but Draco caught a glimpse of her face before she could duck under the table. Across her face, made up of an array of blue and red pimples and sores, was the word "Sneak".

Hermione caught the scarf and ducked down to get a better look at Marietta's face. "You told Umbridge?" she asked.

Harry felt his jaw drop.

Hermione tilted her head and smiled. "I'm admiring my spellwork," she said. "Now everyone knows how trustworthy you are." She tossed Marietta's scarf back towards her.

"Hermione," Draco said, and Harry couldn't tell if he was awed or terrified. "Is that permanent?"

"I'm the Brightest Witch of our Age, Draco," Hermione said, looking a little like she had a green halo. "It'll stick for a while."

"You've disfigured a girl's face," Draco said, "And you're happy about it?"

"I'm happy that she's a year above us and can't find a counter-spell and apparently, neither can Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said. "Otherwise, she wouldn't have come to breakfast at all."

As they were about to exit, Harry heard a screech above his head. He ducked and Draco put his arm up. Bert the Malfoy family owl swooped in for a graceful landing on his owner's arm. In his beak was an ornate letter that looked exactly like the fateful one that had come from the Dark Lord. He held it out until Draco opened a hand and then dropped it in his palm. "Uh oh," Draco whispered. "More excellent news."

He looked about ready to flip a table.

Bert the owl flew away to go rest in the owlery and Draco opened the letter and read it to himself. It was very short, because within sixty seconds, he'd passed it off to Rosalie. She then passed it to Hermione, who passed it to Harry.

The letter read,

Come give me an update. Severus will bring you at nine pm.

With not even a signature.

Harry thought that he wasn't sure who had the more awful life. Him, who was a horcrux, or Draco, who had to see the Dark Lord in person. Tonight. Probably at his own home in the presence or absence of his parents(which would be worse?).

"Hermione," Draco said. "I'll be borrowing a tie and kerchief from you."

"Naturally," Hermione said. "How is the cabinet coming? Rosalie and I could help you get further ahead today if you need."

"And Harry," Harry said, feeling a lot like Ron for some reason. "Harry can help too."

Hermione chuckled. But Draco did not look comforted. "I've just been trying to make the stupid panel fit," he said. "It's off by a quarter of an inch."

"Too long or too short?" Rosalie asked. "I know a couple different techniques that could help you if it's either."

"Alternatively," Hermione said. "Use Engorgio or Reducio to make it fit."

Draco's expression turned more sour. "I didn't think of that," he admitted. "I'll work it out after Charms."

Harry realised that their first classes were due to begin soon. He had Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins, and double potions with them later in the day. Whereas those two classes had once been the bane of his existence(sans the interactions with Hagrid), he now looked forward to them because they were the only classes he shared with Hermione.

Honestly, lately he'd just been dying to spend more time with her. She was the only person in the world he felt that he could share a problem – any problem – with. And for months, he'd just wanted to share his with her and hers with him. And she had become increasingly lovely to him over the last few months, but in the past twenty-four hours had begun turning heads with her new curly hair.

"Right, well, Draco, do you want help?" Rosalie asked. "I don't think I'm going to go to Transfiguration today, so I can work on it if you want."

"Rosalie, how are you going to pass your exams?" Hermione said. "I think you've attended only a quarter of McGonagall's classes!"

"I memorise everything," Rosalie said, very dismissively.

"I just wonder how McGonagall hasn't burned you alive yet," Harry said. He was only half joking.

"I think I'll be fine," Draco muttered. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, and then took his leave without a word to Harry and Hermione. The three paused at a crossroads in the corridor to watch him go.

"Why's he being such a prick all of the sudden?" Hermione muttered. "I mean, yes, he has to see the Dark Lord tonight. But he's been a prick since we were all outside with Dumbledore."

"Because he's not getting along with his house, still," Rosalie replied. "But to be honest with you, he's not making much of an effort. Not like you, Hermione."

"Well, thanks for noticing, but I still feel Slytherin is on the edge of mutiny most days," Hermione replied. "Well, why take it out on us so suddenly?"

"Because Harry became Godric at the Dursley's, Hermione saw Salazar, and I had Rowena walk out of me today," Rosalie said. "So he's next. And he knows it, and he's likely narrating an argument to her about how awful her house is and how he never wanted to be there."

"Right," Hermione said. "Gotcha."

Harry glanced at his watch. "Hermione, we'll be late if we don't leave soon," he said. He extended a hand to her, which she took.

"Bye, Rosalie. Hope you have a good time doing… whatever you're doing."

They headed back out towards the grounds. Hermione glanced back twice and when they were two corridors away, she linked arms with Harry to better whisper to him. "So, I was wondering if you'd like to do two somethings together. Soon."

"I was thinking the exact same thing," Harry said, "Though, the way you've proposed this, I have a feeling you're more on a work track than I am."

She smiled apologetically and Harry's heart skipped a beat. "We should do something fun together as well. Steal one of Draco's games or something. But yes, this was on the horcrux hunt. I was thinking… we should go to Little Hangleton today – tomorrow, if Draco ends up needing us."

"I can't go," Harry said. "I'll mess up the detector."

Hermione nodded. "Right, yes. I didn't think about that bit, to be honest. But, uh, there was something I wanted to do while we were out. See… Tonks asked us on the way out of the Order meeting – you were unconscious – if Rosalie had ever been in a Muggle movie. So I asked Colin for the actress he thought Rosalie was, and I want to use the internet and look her up."

Harry was very quiet about this. "Do you think… she's lying about who she is?"

"I mean, she's definitely lying to someone," Hermione said. "It's driving me nuts. So…but the detector…"

"I'll find a café," Harry suggested, "And wait for you there. Have you figured out the patronus charm?"

"Mostly, but I don't think I ought to go alone. And Draco's being a jerk."

"Rosalie won't want to go tonight if she's waiting on Draco's meeting."

"No." They left the castle. It was an overcast day and the breeze seemed to blow right through them. Up ahead was a head of red hair. Harry suddenly got an idea.

"Oi, wait up, mate!" he yelled. He switched back to holding Hermione's hand and pulled her into a run. It was a thrilling risk. The ground was muddy and the grass was wet. They ran off the path to prevent their shoes from sticking. Hermione was laughing as she tried to keep up. Ron turned and waited, but Harry and Hermione nearly skidded right past him. Their feet dug up the grass in four long tracks as they tried to stop. Hermione lost her balance and nearly took Harry with her, but he caught her right at the last second by her elbows.

"Ron, what are your plans for the day?" Harry asked.

"Erm," Ron seemed pretty sullen. Harry suddenly wondered if he'd picked a good time to ask. Not that it wasn't too late to back out. With a glance to Hermione, she seemed equally uneasy, but kept a kind smile on her face. "Neville said he'd play a round of chess with me. Might go practice Quidditch down at the pitch." He perked up suddenly. "But you both always have something interesting going on. What're you doing?"

"Well, Hermione was thinking of popping out of the palace to find one of those horcruxes," Harry said. "But… uh, I can't go. And it's better to be in groups, you know?"

"Why not ask Malfoy or his girlfriend?" Ron asked in a very bitter tone.

Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione, who did not look very thrilled with the path the conversation was taking. "Well, if you don't want to go, that's fine," she said gently.

Ron did not look at either of them. "I'll think on it," he said. "What do you think Hagrid's cooked up for us?"

Mail kept coming for Harry in droves after the Quibbler article. It had circulated for a few days now. No Educational Decrees had been made since Umbridge had been kicked out of the school, but the front-page rebuttal of the article from the Daily Prophet seemed to continue to drive interest up.

Harry did not receive the Prophet, so he only read the article when he visited the Founder's room to see how work on the Vanishing Cabinet was going. Draco and Rosalie were both there, but they did not seem very happy. Either of them. Draco worked alone on the panel, and Rosalie watched from a distance.

Harry was afraid to ask about how the panel was coming, so he sat down at the centre table and put down his half-finished charms homework. That's when he noticed the Prophet sitting on the table, and picked it up to further examine it. "Only been a day," he muttered to no one in particular. "Doesn't ever feel like a day, does it?"

Rosalie shook her head. "No. But I don't think Fudge realises how much of an idiot he is. If there's one thing a politician can do to make sure everyone reads something, it's to address it."

"You'd know," Harry said. "Living in the Muggle world."

"I keep off Twitter," Rosalie said. "I keep off everything, really, but Twitter is the worst."

"Didn't Elon Musk rename it?"

"Yes, but he's horrible at naming things and the branding isn't strong enough to override the original concept of a tweet," Rosalie replied. "And actually, for fun, I calculated what I assumed the worth of his venture would be at this point in time, and I'm currently only a hundred dollars off."

Harry nodded. "Surprised you don't like social media. I mean, since you're so fascinated by the idea of everything at your fingertips."

"I have it…" Rosalie said slowly. "But I don't get on. I prefer quality information."

Harry glanced up from the paper. "Is there a story there?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Why you don't get on social media."

Rosalie shook her head, staring off towards the unfinished vanishing cabinet. "No, no story at all."

Harry followed her gaze. Draco was holding the new panel up to the old. It was far too thick. Rosalie shook her head and Draco chose that moment to glance over at the two of them. He set the board down with a thud. "Stop laughing!" he snapped. "This isn't easy!"

"It's not easy because you're making it that way!" Rosalie replied. "I told you! You need a different tool!"

"I don't have a different tool!"

"We can get it!" Rosalie replied. "I know a person who-"

"I don't want your bloody contact!" Draco shouted in earnest now. "Can't you just… shut up!"

Every hair on Harry's arm rose up on end. He took three quick steps back to the Gryffindor room.

"No, I can't," Rosalie said. "Shame on you for suggesting it! You ought to shut up first!"

Draco took a very deep breath and then kicked the board. It tumbled into the aisle that led down to the Slytherin common room. Harry could have imagined it, but he thought for a moment that he saw Draco cast a look of intense longing down to the room.

Rosalie met Harry's eyes and rolled hers. Harry was very afraid Draco would turn around and see that too, but he didn't. She got to her feet – she wasn't wearing shoes for some reason – and walked over to Draco. "Hey," she said, and touched his shoulder. He walked away, waving at her a bit. "Okay, well, I think I'll take this and pop out, okay? You've got potions anyway. Right?"

"Rosalie…" Draco growled. He was not meeting her eyes but instead was pulling at his hair and kicking against the ground. "Do you always have to do things your way?"

"We've tried doing it your way," Rosalie said. "Do you always have to come up with the solution yourself?"

"This is my mission-"

"If you're going to be my boyfriend, you've got to learn to share your missions with me. And learn to accept my ideas – especially when you've got none." Rosalie looked every inch as angry and unyielding as Draco did. "I'm a genius, Draco. I'm a literal bloody genius. And if that's an issue for you to listen to a genius, then you'd better let me know now."

Draco still did not meet her eyes. "Fine," he said. "Take the bloody stupid board," he said. He walked away from her and snatched his bookbag from where it was stored under a table with woodworking tools. "Harry, I'll follow you out."

Rosalie picked up the board and called softly for Dobby, who always seemed to be there when he was needed.

Harry walked up and let Draco out through the Gryffindor common room. He had no sooner seen him shut the portrait hole than he heard another door slam in the room and perked up because that meant Hermione was here.

Sure enough, she was there, and even better, she was wearing muggle clothes. A green top and blue jeans. "Hey," she said. "Got time to pop out now?"

"Sure," Harry said. "But Dobby just took Rosalie out. She and Draco… uh…"

Hermione did not seem surprised. "She doesn't bend when someone gets mad at her, does she?"

"She called herself a genius," Harry said, scratching the back of his head.

"Well, let's test that." Hermione held up a piece of paper. "Dobby!"

It took a moment, but then Dobby appeared with a crack on top of the table, extending his arms. "Harry Potter! Ms. Grangey!" he exclaimed. "Dobby was just taking Miss Rosie to a place in a city! It was quite a long pop!"

"That's okay, Dobby," Hermione said. "I knew you'd be a moment. But I was wondering you you could pop us to Oxfordshire?"

Hermione's parents lived in a grey house separated from their neighbours, which struck Harry as very unique because most English homes were red brick duplexes, like the one they'd stayed in in Wigan. It was possibly the most beautiful little house Harry had ever seen. Three low-rise porch steps. A double level with a triangle roof. Light grey stucco and dark grey shutters and roof. There was quite a beautiful flower bed out front – one Aunt Petunia would have been jealous of – and stained-glass accents beside the front door.

Harry had changed into Muggle clothes before leaving Hogwarts and was now fiddling with the hem of the green shirt he'd put on in a quick attempt to match with Hermione. He followed her up the steps. "Are your folks home?" he asked.

"Might not be." Hermione knocked anyway. "Might be at work. It's business hours now."

Sure enough, no one came to the door. Hermione walked back down the steps and towards the back of the house. There was no gate separating the front from the back. They passed a small shed and a greenhouse before Hermione stopped and pulled a spare key out that was hidden in a potted flower pot beside the back door. She unlocked the door and let Harry into the kitchen.

The Grangers had a very green kitchen. Green and white tiles, another potted plant on the table, and green rugs and rags. Harry decided it was time to ask about the abundance of the colour. "Is your parent's favourite colour green?"

"My dad's," Hermione said. "My mum doesn't really have a favourite, but she's happy to let him do the decorating."

"Who's the gardener?"

"Neither of them." Hermione pulled her shoes off beside the back door and Harry followed her example. "They pay someone to do the outside plants and that one on the table is just the next in a long line of plants unlucky enough to be bought by them. They always forget to water them."

"Oh," Harry examined the dirt of the plant on the table and discovered it was, in fact, dry. He picked it up and brought it to the sink. Poor thing, he thought.

"Computer's in the next room over," Hermione said. "I'm the only one who uses it. They've got their laptops, but there's not much sense in getting me one."

"Maybe once Rosalie gets WIFI at Hogwarts."

"Maybe."

They wandered into another room with lots of green. A large dark green rug, two large plants beside an electric fireplace with a green decorative cloth atop it, and two long green candlesticks. Harry could see the street through the window on the left. The right side had a hundred or so books on a shelf and an older computer model sat beside it with a folding chair in front of it.

Hermione wiped dust off the top of the computer. "Harry, can you get a wipe from the kitchen? They're underneath the sink."

"Yeah, sure." He wandered back, opened the cabinet under the sink, and found a package of disinfecting wipes. Several packages, actually. "Did your parents stockpile after the pandemic?" he asked. It hadn't ever really hit Hogwarts, but he knew Dudley had been released from school.

"Yeah, they're medical professionals."

Back in the front room, Hermione had turned the computer on, but it was taking quite a moment to turn on. Harry supposed that was what happened when it was only used every summer. Hermione wiped the computer, the screen, the keyboard, and the desk. A grey handprint had formed by the time she was done.

Harry took a seat on a couch in front of the window and skimmed the titles on the shelf. Some he recognised. Sherlock Holmes… Pride and Prejudice. But many were textbooks and encyclopaedias. He curled his feet against the floor, then looked down. "Have your folks got underfloor heating?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "Nice, isn't it?"

It was. Hermione finally took a seat in front of the computer when it began to hum. She punched in a password and then clicked a button and sat back to wait. "This poor thing," she sighed.

"When you're older," Harry asked, "What kind of home do you want to live in?"

Hermione smiled. "House hunting is ambitious in this economy, Harry."

"I mean, I think I've technically got a house already. Unless someone sold my parent's," Harry replied.

Hermione's smile vanished. "I didn't think of that. Have you ever been to see it?"

"Never," Harry said. "I don't know if I'd live there, y'know. Dunno what state it's in or anything."

Hermione glanced back at the computer, but it was evidently still loading. "I've been thinking… I mean, I'd want to live in the Wizarding World, but Muggle homes are so much better. It'd be nice to have a working telly and phone after I'm not attending Hogwarts."

"Right," Harry agreed.

"And it'd be nice to have – oh, hey, the search engine is open. Moment of truth." Harry jumped to his feet and came to hover over her shoulder. Hermione's hands were shaking a little as she clicked into the Google searchbar and picked up the little scrap of paper she'd abandoned beside the cleaned keyboard. It was a little damp now, from the residual cleaner, but still legible. Marilyn De'Armeen.

Hermione typed "Mar" and the computer began to fill in names. Top result was Marilyn Monroe, which made sense to Harry. He didn't know who she was, but he knew he'd heard the name before.

By the time Hermione had gotten "Marilyn" typed, her hands were shaking so badly that she had to stop and take a breath. "You okay?" Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged in a "what can you do about it?" manner. "I just… I like her. She's a good friend. I don't want this to change anything." She stared at the keyboard. "But… I can't keep wondering."

She typed the "De'" and the top result changed to a Wikipedia article on Marilyn De'Armeen. Hermione hit enter and after about five seconds, they were staring at the Wikipedia five-pound donation page. Hermione scrolled down past it. It was an extremely short article – only a single paragraph introduction and two subsections. To the right-hand side was a woman who looked strikingly similar to Rosalie.

Harry leaned in. She had wavy brown hair and looked to be a young teenager – younger than Rosalie. She wore a pink dress and seemed slightly heavier-set than the average person. The photo indicated it had been taken several years ago. "I can see the resemblance," Harry admitted. "But her face looks more round, see? And her eye colour is different." This woman had brown eyes in comparison to Rosalie's bright blue.

Hermione used the mouse to highlight the paragraph. "She's not a real person," she said. Harry jumped over to read what the article had to say.

Marilyn De'Armeen was the pseudonym of Italian actress/activist Rosalynn Igor from 2014 to 2020, when her real name was leaked on Wikileaks. Igor starred under the legal pseudonym in several projects, including The Prince and the Showgirl(2015), April(2017), and The Bane of Broadway(2019). She was also featured in Bridgerton season one, the rebooted Disney Ducktales and Final Declaration, which were filmed before the 2020 name leak. Since her name was leaked, Igor has distanced herself from the media and has not shared plans to return to film. She was reported in 2022 to be living under a new name in Scotland.

Hermione highlighted Marilyn's real name. "Look," she whispered. "Rosalynn. Rosalie. Rosie. Rosamund."

"I see it," Harry said. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the whole situation. "Why'd she quit? Why was she living under a different name in the first place?"

Hermione scrolled down. The two sections were Filmography and Personal Life. She selected Personal Life. The section was astonishingly brief.

Marilyn De'Armeen was educated at the Italian University of Performing Arts. She was renowned for her ability to mimic accents after hearing only a few notable syllables. It was this ability that earned her her role in Bane of Broadway and many of her subsequent roles.

Harry leaned back and recalled how, in the car at Christmastime, Rosalie had been able to deduce where he lived by having him say a funny phrase. "It… sounds like her," he admitted. "I mean… Rosalie's never slipped up an accent before, has she?"

"She knew where we lived," Hermione said. "I mean, most people in England can listen to you and say, you sound north, or you sound midlands. But she pegged our cities. She could tell we don't live there year-round."

Harry nodded. It also made sense that Rosalie could have once been an actress, trained at an acting school. He hadn't seen her getup with Umbridge, but he'd heard she was unrecognisable. Draco had said he hadn't recognised her until she'd dropped her accent. He was dating her.

Hermione got up from the computer. "I think we have the Bane of Broadway," she said. "I'm going to pop down to the den real quick."

Harry nodded and took the mouse to click the dropdown on Filmography. It was a table that displayed years and roles and whether the role had been a lead role. Hermione disappeared towards the kitchen and Harry heard a door open and the sound of descending footsteps.

He clicked on the link for the Bane of Broadway in Marilyn's introduction and examined the theatre release poster. There she was, on the front of the poster. Her brown hair was darker than Rosalie's was now, but Harry had seen Rosalie with all sorts of hairstyles. She was extremely proficient at glamour charms. Maybe the extra weight was one as well.

What fascinated him was that the release date on the movie was September the first, 2019. "Hey, Hermione?" He called.

He heard her footsteps on the steps, ascending. "Yeah?" she called back.

"This came out the day we went to Hogwarts."

Hermione snorted and re-entered the room. "Happy coincidence?" she asked and set the DVD down. "I reckon we could watch it at Hogwarts with a DVD player and a screen. Just got to get one. Or we could come back another night and watch it with my folks."

"Sounds fun. Any reason why you want to see it?"

"Because Bane of Broadway is one word off of Bane of Hogwarts, and I find that there are too many happy coincidences around this subject."

Harry nodded and stole another glance at the computer. "I think I saw…" He trailed off and took a seat. "How do I get back?"

Hermione pointed to the back arrow in the top left corner. Harry examined the introduction again and, as he'd thought, the name Rosalynn Igor was in blue text with underline underneath it. A hyperlink. He hovered over it and looked at Hermione. She exhaled and nodded.

When the page loaded, Harry saw the picture of a blonde-haired woman wearing a chain-link jacket and a blue shirt. She was looking at the ground and had been caught in the photo mid laugh. His heart jumped into his throat. She looked completely different, but he was beginning to recognise similarities the more people he saw. The cheekbones were reminiscent of Rosalie's and the eye shape was the same on all these people.

Hermione read aloud beside him: "Rosalynn Rowan Igor is a child prodigy who claimed to hail from Germany but has since been shown to hail from Italy. She was featured on the Ellen Show in 2014 for being fluent in six languages, having an incredible ability to recall obscure facts and perform large calculations in her head, and for being able to mimic accents from various parts of the world without error. Although she claimed to be five(born in 2009), it is more likely that she was closer to seven."

"How do they not know her age?" Harry asked. "Do we know Rosalie's birthday? Has she ever told us?"

"I haven't asked," Hermione replied. "But it's a private record. The media can't pull it, I don't think."

"This is actually bonkers," Harry said, gesturing at the screen. "Are we sure about this?"

"It gets worse," Hermione said. She pointed at the third paragraph down of the introduction. "Rosalynn has been discovered living under several different names, including Rebekah Barnes, Marilyn De'Armeen, and Clara Silver. In December 2023, she was photographed in Manchester, England."

"I… don't recognise any of those names," Harry said. "Have you heard her-"

"Clara Barnes is the name she writes to her lawyer under," Hermione replied.

The two fell silent, staring at the screen. Harry skimmed through the list of Rosalynn's accolades in the second paragraph. She competed in the International Math Competition and won the entire thing. She achieved perfect marks on the Wechsler Adult Intelligence Scale test. She worked on the unsolved Millennium Prize Problem known as P vs NP and presented a solution that was still pending review. If she had correctly solved it, it carried a $1 million prize. She apparently had an IQ of 210, which Harry couldn't decide if he believed or not.

Hermione leaned against him from behind with a hand on his shoulder. She took the mouse and scrolled down. There were more sections, but Harry didn't get the chance to read them. Hermione went straight to a section titled Pseudonyms. It had a table similar to Marilyn De'Armeen's filmography, but with an opening paragraph.

No one is certain of who Rosalynn is and she has never offered any explanation as to why she chooses to operate under pseudonyms. It has been suggested that she may be a pathological liar, as she was able to operate under a false name from a very young age.

Hermione leaned back up. Her hands rested on Harry's shoulders. It seemed neither of them knew what to say. Harry didn't even know what to think. The entire situation was so far out of his grasp… it reminded him of discovering the Wizarding World for the first time. Never knowing where to look or what to say. Never knowing what was real.

Hermione took the mouse and closed the page. "I think I know enough now," she said.

The next chapter will be called Loyalty and Ambition.