Chapter 109: Nifflers And Crazies

By breakfast the next day Harry was relieved that Hermione and I were over our argument and were talking civilly to each other. My dark predictions that the house-elves would send nasty food up to the Gryffindor table because Hermione had insulted them thankfully didn't come true; the bacon, eggs, and kippers were quite as good as usual.

When the post owls arrived, Hermione looked up eagerly; she seemed to be expecting something.

"Percy won't have had time to answer yet," I said. "We only sent Hedwig yesterday."

"No, it's not that," said Hermione. "I've taken out a subscription to the Daily Prophet. I'm getting sick of finding everything out from the Slytherins."

"Good thinking!" said Harry, also looking up at the owls. "Hey, Hermione, I think you're in luck -"

A gray owl was soaring down toward Hermione.

"It hasn't got a newspaper, though," she said, looking disappointed. "It's -"

But to her surprise, the gray owl landed in front of her plate, closely followed by four barn owls, a brown owl, and a tawny.

"How many subscriptions did you take out?" said Harry, picking up Hermione's goblet before it was knocked over by the cluster of owls, all of whom were pushing close to her, trying to deliver their own letter first.

"What on earth - ?" Hermione said, taking the letter from the gray owl, opening it, and starting to read. "Oh really!" she sputtered, her face scrunching up.

"What's up?" I asked.

"It's - oh how ridiculous -"

She thrust the letter at Harry, and I looked over and seen that it was not handwritten, but composed from pasted letters that seemed to have been cut out of the Daily Prophet.

YOU ARE A WICKED GIRL. HARRY POTTER DESERVES

BETTER. GO BACK WHERE YOU CAME FROM MUGGLE.

"They're all like it!" said Hermione desperately, opening one letter after another. "'Harry Potter can do much better than the likes of you...' 'You deserve to be boiled in frog spawn...' Ouch!"

She had opened the last envelope, and yellowish-green liquid smelling strongly of that muggle shit they put in cars gushed over her hands, which began to erupt in large yellow boils.

"Undiluted bubotuber pus!" I said, picking up the envelope by the edge of it and sniffing it.

"Ow!" said Hermione, tears starting in her eyes as she tried to rub the pus off her hands with a napkin, but her fingers were now so thickly covered in painful sores that it looked as though she were wearing a pair of thick gloves.

"You'd better get up to the hospital wing," said Harry as the owls around Hermione took flight. "We'll tell Professor Sprout where you've gone..."

"I warned her!" I said angrily as Hermione hurried out of the Great Hall, cradling her hands. "I warned her not to annoy Rita Skeeter! Now she is getting this shit! Look at this one: "I read In Witch Weekly about how you are playing Harry Potter false and that boy has had enough hardship and I will be sending you a curse by next post as soon as I can find a big enough envelope.' Blimey, she'd better watch out for herself."

Hermione didn't turn up for Herbology. As Harry and I left the greenhouse for our Care of Magical Creatures class, we saw Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle descending the stone steps of the castle. Pansy Bitchinson was whispering and giggling behind us with her gang of Slytherin slags. Catching sight of Harry, Pansy called, "Potter, have you split up with your girlfriend? Why was she so upset at breakfast?"

Harry ignored her. I had to keep reminding myself that Pansy was indeed a girl, so I couldn't punch her in her pathetic mouth.

Hagrid, who had told all of us last lesson that we had finished with unicorns, was waiting for us outside his cabin with a fresh supply of open crates at his feet. My heart sank at the sight of the crates - surely not another skrewt hatching? - but when I got near enough to see inside, I found himself looking at a number of flurry black creatures with long snouts. Their front paws were flat, like spades, and they were blinking up at the class, looking puzzled at all the attention.

"These're nifflers," said Hagrid, when the class had gathered around. "Yeh find 'em down mines mostly. They like sparkly stuff...There yeh go, look."

One of the nifflers had suddenly leapt up and attempted to bite Pansy's watch off her wrist. She shrieked and jumped backward.

"Useful little treasure detectors," said Hagrid happily. "Thought we'd have some fun with 'em today. See over there?" He pointed at the large patch of freshly turned earth Harry had watched him digging from the Owlery window. "I've buried some gold coins. I've got a prize fer whoever picks the niffler that digs up most. Jus' take off all yer valuables, an' choose a niffler, an get ready ter set 'em loose."

I didn't have anything of value, so I just picked up a niffler. It cuddled up into my arms. I couldn't help but think it cute

"Hang on," said Hagrid, looking down into the crate, "there's a spare niffler here...who's missin? Where's Hermione?"

"She had to go to the hospital wing," I said sadly.

"We'll explain later," Harry muttered; Pansy was trying to overhear.

It was easily the most fun we had ever had in Care of Magical Creatures. The nifflers dived in and out of the patch of earth as though it were water, each scurrying back to the student who had released it and spitting gold into our hands. Mine was positively brilliant, filling my lap with tons of coins

"Can you buy these as pets, Hagrid?" I asked excitedly as my niffler dived back into the soil.

"Yer mum wouldn' be happy, Ron," said Hagrid, grinning. "They wreck houses, nifflers. I reckon they've nearly got the lot, now," he added, pacing around the patch of earth while the nifflers continued to dive. "I on'y buried a hundred coins. Oh there y'are, Hermione!"

Hermione was walking toward us across the lawn. Her hands were very heavily bandaged and she looked miserable. Pansy was watching her intently.

"Well, let's check how yeh've done!" said Hagrid. "Count yer coins! An' there's no point tryin' ter steal any, Goyle," he added, his beetle-black eyes narrowed. "It's leprechaun gold. Vanishes after a few hours."

I had no idea of that. Thinking back to the World Cup, I suddenly felt like shit for giving Harry that gold for payment for the Omnioculars.

Goyle emptied his pockets, looking extremely sulky. Mine had the most, so Hagrid gave me an enormous slab of Honeydukes chocolate for a prize. The bell rang across the grounds for lunch; the rest of the class set off back to the castle, but the three of us stayed behind to help Hagrid put the nifflers back in their boxes.

"What yeh done ter your hands, Hermione?" said Hagrid, looking concerned.

Hermione told him about the hate mail she had received that morning, and the envelope full of bubotuber pus.

"Aaah, don' worry," said Hagrid gently, looking down at her. "I got some o' those letters an all, after Rita Skeeter wrote abou me mum. 'Yeh're a monster an yeh should be put down.' 'Yer mother killed innocent people an if you had any decency you d jump in a lake.'"

"No!" said Hermione, looking shocked.

"Yeah," said Hagrid, heaving the niffler crates over by his cabin wall. "They're jus' nutters, Hermione. Don' open 'em if yeh get any more. Chuck 'em straigh' in the fire."

"You missed a really good lesson," Harry told Hermione as they headed back toward the castle. "They're good, nifflers, aren't they, Ron?"

I was too busy frowning at the chocolate in my hand and thinking about those Omnioculars.

"What's the matter?" said Harry. "Wrong flavor?"

"No," I said shortly. "Why didn't you tell me about the gold?"

"What gold?" said Harry.

"The gold I gave you at the Quidditch World Cup. The leprechaun gold I gave you for my Omnioculars. In the Top Box. Why didn't you tell me it disappeared?"

Harry looked confused for a few seconds. "Oh..." he said, as if he was finally getting it. "I dunno...I never noticed it had gone. I was more worried about my wand, wasn't I?"

We climbed the steps into the entrance hall and went into the Great Hall for lunch.

"Must be nice to have so much money you don't notice if a pocketful of Galleons goes missing." I said in a cold voice.

"Listen, I had other stuff on my mind that night!" said Harry impatiently. "We all did, remember?"

"I didn't know leprechaun gold vanishes," I muttered. "I thought I was paying you back. You shouldn't've given me that Chudley Cannon hat for Christmas."

"Forget it, all right?" said Harry.

But I couldn't forget it. I felt horrible, ridiculous, a waste. Here I was thinking I was paying him back, when really I hadn't done a thing. And what's more, he didn't even notice it gone.

"I hate being poor." I said as I chopped up my steak.

It seemed like the older I got, the more I resented not having enough money to even do small things. That actually made me feel worse about myself. I shouldn't be thinking like that, however, I couldn't help it. Both my best friends had money, with Harry being left the Potter fortune, and Hermione's parents being dentists, and if you were to convert their muggle money into wizard coins, they would be very much loaded. But here I was. The one that had to have people buy shit for me. The one who could hardly ever pick up the tab.

How dare I like Hermione. I couldn't even take her out on a decent date if I had the chance.

"It's rubbish. I don't blame Fred and George for trying to make some extra money. Wish I could. Wish I had a niffler."

"Well, we know what to get you next Christmas," said Hermione brightly.

I appreciates what she was trying to do, but it really didn't make me feel much better.

"Come on, Ron, it could be worse. At least your fingers aren't full of pus." said Hermione, as she was having a lot of difficulty managing her knife and fork, her fingers were so stiff and swollen.

I didn't like seeing her suffer like that, so I took the fork and knife and started cutting her steak for her.

"Thanks." She grumbled, as she had wanted to do it herself, but couldn't.

"You're welcome."

"I hate that Skeeter woman!" she burst out savagely. "I'll get her back for this if it's the last thing I do!"

Hate mail continued to arrive for Hermione over the following week, and although she followed Hagrid's advice and stopped opening it, several of her ill-wishers sent Howlers, which exploded at the Gryffindor table and shrieked insults at her for the whole Hall to hear. Even those people who didn't read Witch Weekly knew all about the supposed Harry-Krum-Hermione triangle now. Harry was getting sick of telling people that Hermione wasn't his girlfriend.

And frankly, I was getting sick and tired of people thinking that she was his girlfriend. I didn't even see where they could have gotten the idea. It wasn't like I didn't hang out with them too. Hell, even when Harry and I wasn't speaking, Hermione spent equal time with us separately.

I really admired her for that. I had to apologize for putting her in that position someday.

"It'll die down, though if we just ignore it." Harry told Hermione. "People got bored with that stuff she wrote about me last time."

"I want to know how she's listening into private conversations when she's supposed to be banned from the grounds!" said Hermione angrily.

Hermione hung back in their next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson to ask Professor Moody something. The rest of the class was very eager to leave; Moody had given us such a rigorous test of hex-deflection that many of us were nursing small injuries. Harry had such a bad case of Twitchy Ears, he had to hold his hands clamped over them as he walked away from the class.

"Well, Rita's definitely not using an Invisibility Cloak!" Hermione panted five minutes later, catching up with Harry and I in the entrance hall and pulling Harry's hand away from one of his wiggling ears so that he could hear her. "Moody says he didn't see her anywhere near the judges' table at the second task, or anywhere near the lake!"

"Hermione, is there any point in telling you to drop this?" I asked, really sick of hearing about Skeeter, and really fearful that Hermione would get burned by the woman again.

"No!" said Hermione stubbornly. "I want to know how she heard me talking to Viktor! And how she found out about Hagrid's mum!"

"Maybe she had you bugged," said Harry.

"Bugged?" I said, confused. "What, put fleas on her or something?"

"No. Bugged is when people put like a device on someone and sends them to investigate people without them knowing that they are being listened to or recorded."

"Wicked." I said, fascinated.

"Aren't you two ever going to read Hogwarts, A History" exclaimed Hermione.

"What's the point?" I joked. "You know it by heart, we can just ask you."

"Ho-ho. All those substitutes for magic Muggles use, electricity, computers, and radar, and all those things - they all go haywire around Hogwarts, there's too much magic in the air. No, Rita's using magic to eavesdrop, she must be...If I could just find out what it is...ooh, if it's illegal, I'll have her..."

"Haven't we got enough to worry about?" I asked her. "Do we have to start a vendetta against Rita Skeeter as well?"

"I'm not asking you to help!" Hermione snapped. "I'll do it on my own!"

She marched back up the marble staircase without a backward glance. More than likely going to the library.

"What's the betting she comes back with a box of / Hate Rita Skeeter badges?" I joked.

"I would actually wear one of those." laughed Harry.

"Proudly." I added.

Hermione, however, did not ask us to help her pursue vengeance against Rita Skeeter, for which we were both grateful, because our workload was mounting ever higher in the days before the Easter holidays.

Hedwig didn't return until the end of the Easter holidays. Percy's letter was enclosed in a package of Easter eggs that Mum had sent. Both Harry's and mine were the size of dragon eggs and full of homemade toffee. Hermione's, however, was smaller than a chicken egg. Her face fell when she saw it.

"Your mum doesn't read Witch Weekly, by any chance, does she, Ron?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah. Gets it for the recipes. Sorry."

Hermione looked sadly at her tiny egg.

"Don't you want to see what Percy's written?" Harry asked her hastily.

Percy's letter was short and irritated.

As I am constantly telling the Daily Prophet, Mr. Crouch is taking a well-deserved break. He is sending in regular owls with instructions. No, I haven't actually seen him, but I think I can be trusted to know my own superior's handwriting. I have quite enough to do at the moment without trying to quash these ridiculous rumors.

Please don't bother me again unless it's something important.

Happy Easter.

A few days later, Harry had to go meet up with the rest of the champions, leaving Hermione and I to ourselves.

Ever since our shouting match, besides what she was trying to do with Skeeter, Hermione had calmed down a bit and started having some fun. She let me show her some chess moves, and went to the astronomy tower to look at stars and planets just for fun, which was saying something.

We ended up back in the common room where I was willingly paying attention to some of what Hermione was reading to me, when Harry came rushing in, telling us everything he had been through with Krum, Crouch, and Snape for the past couple of hours.

It comes down to this," said Hermione, rubbing her forehead. "Either Mr. Crouch attacked Viktor, or somebody else attacked both of them when Viktor wasn't looking."

"It must've been Crouch," I said at once. "That's why he was gone when Harry and Dumbledore got there. He'd done a runner."

"I don't think so," said Harry, shaking his head. "He seemed really weak - I don't reckon he was up to Disapparating or anything."

"You can't Disapparate on the Hogwarts grounds, haven't I told you enough times?" said Hermione.

"Okay...hows this for a theory," said Ron excitedly. "Krum attacked Crouch - no, wait for it - and then Stunned himself!"

"And Mr. Crouch evaporated, did he?" said Hermione coldly.

"Oh yeah..."

It was daybreak. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had crept out of their dormitories very early and hurried up to the Owlery together to send a note to Sirius. Now they were standing looking out at the misty grounds. All three of them were puffy-eyed and pale because they had been talking late into the night about Mr. Crouch.

"Just go through it again, Harry," said Hermione. "What did Mr. Crouch actually say?"

"I've told you, he wasn't making much sense," said Harry. "He said he wanted to warn Dumbledore about something. He definitely mentioned Bertha Jorkins, and he seemed to think she was dead. He kept saying stuff was his fault...He mentioned his son."

"Well, that was his fault," said Hermione testily.

"He was out of his mind," said Harry. "Half the time he seemed to think his wife and son were still alive, and he kept talking to Percy about work and giving him instructions."

"And...remind me what he said about You-Know-Who?" I said giving Harry my full attention.

"I've told you," Harry repeated dully. "He said he's getting stronger."

There was a pause. Then I said in a falsely confident voice, "But he was out of his mind, like you said, so half of it was probably just raving."

"He was sanest when he was trying to talk about Voldemort," said Harry, and I winced at the sound of the name. "He was having real trouble stringing two words together, but that was when he seemed to know where he was, and know what he wanted to do. He just kept saying he had to see Dumbledore."

Harry turned away from the window and stared up into the rafters. "If Snape hadn't held me up, we might've got there in time. 'The headmaster is busy. Potter...what's this rubbish, Potter?' Why couldn't he have just got out of the way?"

"Maybe he didn't want you to get there!" I said quickly. "Maybe - hang on - how fast do you reckon he could've gotten down to the forest? D'you reckon he could've beaten you and Dumbledore there?"

"Not unless he can turn himself into a bat or something," said Harry.

"Wouldn't put it past him, evil git." I muttered.

"We need to see Professor Moody," said Hermione. "We need to find out whether he found Mr. Crouch."

"If he had the Marauder's Map on him, it would've been easy," said Harry.

"Unless Crouch was already outside the grounds," I pondered, "because it only shows up to the boundaries, doesn't -"

"Shh!" said Hermione suddenly.

Somebody was climbing the steps up to the Owlery, two voices arguing, coming closer and closer.

"- that's blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that-"

"- we've tried being polite; it's time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn't like the Ministry of Magic knowing what he did -"

"I'm telling you, if you put that in writing, it's blackmail!"

"Yeah, and you won't be complaining if we get a nice fat payoff, will you?"

The Owlery door banged open. Fred and George came over the threshold, then froze at the sight of us.

"What're you doing here?" Fred and I said at the same time.

"Sending a letter," said Harry and George in unison.

"What, at this time?" said Hermione and Fred.

Fred grinned.

"Fine - we won't ask you what you're doing, if you don't ask us," he said.

Fred was holding a sealed envelope in his hands. He shifted his hand so that the name on it was covered.

"Well, don't let us hold you up," he said, making a mock bow and pointing at the door.

I didn't move out the way. "Who're you blackmailing?"

The grin vanished from Fred's face. George half glanced at Fred, before smiling at me.

"Don't be stupid, I was only joking," he said easily.

"Didn't sound like that," I said, firmly.

Fred and George looked at each other. Then Fred said abruptly, "I've told you before, Ron, keep your nose out if you like it the shape it is. Can't see why you would, but -"

"It's my business if you're blackmailing someone. George's right, you could end up in serious trouble for that."

"Told you, I was joking," said George. He walked over to Fred, pulled the letter out of his hands, and began attaching it to the leg of the nearest barn owl. "You're starting to sound a bit like our dear older brother, you are, Ron. Carry on like this and you'll be made a prefect."

"No, I won't!" I said, insulted. Not by the fact that he said I could be made a prefect. But because he compared me to Percy. How dare he!

George carried the barn owl over to the window and it took off. Then, he turned around and grinned at me.

"Well, stop telling people what to do then. See you later."

He and Fred left the Owlery. The three of us stared at one another.

"You don't think they know something about all this, do you?" Hermione whispered. "About Crouch and everything?"

"No," said Harry. "If it was something that serious, they'd tell someone. They'd tell Dumbledore."

I however, thought otherwise. My face must have reflected it, cuz Hermione asked me "What's the matter?"

"Well..." I said slowly, "I dunno if they would. They're...they're obsessed with making money lately, I noticed it when I was hanging around with them - when - you know -"

"We weren't talking." Harry finished the sentence for me. "Yeah, but blackmail?"

"It's this joke shop idea they've got. I thought they were only saying it to annoy Mum, but they really mean it, they want to start one. They've only got a year left at Hogwarts, they keep going on about how it's time to think about their future, and Dad can't help them, and they need gold to get started."

Hermione was looking uncomfortable."Yes, but they wouldn't do anything against the law to get gold."

"Wouldn't they?" I said, skeptical. "I dunno, they don't exactly mind breaking rules, do they?"

"Yes, but this is the law," said Hermione, looking scared. "This isn't some silly school rule...They'll get a lot more than detention for blackmail! Ron, maybe you'd better tell Percy..."

"Are you mad Tell Percy? He'd probably do a Crouch and turn them in." I said, trumping the very thought "Come on, let's get some breakfast."

"D'you think it's too early to go and see Professor Moody?" Hermione said as we went down the spiral staircase.

"Yes," said Harry. "He'd probably blast us through the door if we wake him at the crack of dawn; he'll think we're trying to attack him while he's asleep. Let's give it till break."