When September 1st 1972 was just around the corner, Hermione took a look at her list once more.
She wanted to just get her mission over with, but seeking the Horcrux too early could potentially expose her horcrux hunt to Voldemort, she reminded herself. He was at the peak of his power now, and his death eaters were going strong. Hermione Granger alone could never face them all head on like how she did it the first time with Harry, Ron, and the Order.
She would very much like to run an arithmancy calculation for the future events, but she still didn't know all the variables for it, so again, it was too early to do anything.
Her mind unhelpfully repeated one question that had been plaguing her: Why did Hogwarts send her here, to this time?
Was there something she had to do now to help prevent the accidental Horcruxes being made?
Her logical side argued that it must have been the reason, but if it really was the reason, then Hogwarts should have sent her to an adult body! She hadn't even had a wand! Never mind a wand, she wasn't even allowed to go outside the manor.
Oh Merlin, what if there was indeed a reason and her failure in figuring it out would cost her the mission?
She did not panic. She did not.
All of these were sensible thinking, logic. She must have missed something. She had to do something.
Merlin, she could not fail! She couldn't afford to.
Regret filled her for letting her current life, Madeline Crouch's life, distracted her. This had to stop now.
She healed already. She had her break! It was time to move for her mission.
Hermione paced in her room, brainstorming for whatever reason Hogwarts sent her to this time.
.
She saw everything clearer than before as her departure to Hogwarts was merely a couple days away.
She had been panicking and over-thinking everything, when in fact she only needed to remember one thing: Hogwarts sent her.
They trusted her to finish this mission, and that means she had something that was highly required for this mission.
Speaking objectively, Hermione was the most resourceful in her group. She was not quick on her feet and decisive like Harry had been, or tactical like Ron, but with her book smart and clever bit of her knowledge applications, she could push her success prospect by building it over the years.
Like how the Marauder's map was essential in the twins' mischief making and Harry's rule breaking, she could try making many tools to increase her odds. Even if she could not move against Voldemort now, she could still do something.
Perhaps that was why Hogwarts sent her years before Voldemort's defeat.
So for her few first years in Hogwarts, Hermione planned to explore the intricacies of magic, especially in enchanting things, like how she enchanted the DA coins and cursed the DA registration paper. It was two of her accomplishments that she was proud of (she would very much like to be proud of S.P.E.W., but unfortunately, the organization was a failure and the house elves turned to hate her after she offered them socks,) and Hermione was eager to use her strengths for something so purposeful.
She was back on the track again.
Hermione found herself more well-rested after this revelation. She didn't wake up several times in the middle of the night out of anxiousness now.
And when she had only one night left before going to Hogwarts, Hermione was as ready as she would ever be to face the reality of her mission.
To go to Hogwarts, away from her haven with Mother and Barty...
Speaking of Barty,
"Maddy. What on earth."
Hermione smiled at the sound of his shock from the door.
She was re-checking all of her books she intended to bring with her, making sure that she didn't bring books that she knew Hogwarts had in abundance. She had casted the undetected-extension charm again, this time to a secret compartment in her trunk so that she could bring all the books she wanted. Her room was a mess, with books all around her, and it was this scene that Barty walked into when he decided to check up on her sister.
She turned and gave her brother a 'what can you do' gesture. "I'm packing."
"You are making a mess of your room," Barty retorted. "I thought we aren't supposed to make Winky's work harder than it already is?"
She flushed. To be scolded by her own words... "I was going to tidy it all up after I finished packing..."
Barty stepped carefully into the room, heading straight to her bed while avoiding the stacks of books everywhere.
He moved some books on the bed to make space for him to sit. "I don't think you can fit all of these books in your trunk. Then again, you have been practicing with your wand since we went to get it two months ago. Are you going to do some magic now to help pack your books?"
She shook her head, "no, I won't do any magic tonight. The trunk is already charmed with extension charm." She didn't lie.
Barty briefly looked disappointed before shrugging. He moved on to look around.
Hermione continued her packing, and they were accompanied by silence for some time.
It was a comfortable silence, mind you. While Barty was still high-spirited, the past weeks had them grow comfortable in just each other's company, not unlike their routine in the library when they were engrossed with something engaging.
Barty was a bit forlorn, as he realized now Maddy would go to Hogwarts without him. He would have to attend the tutoring without Maddy.
He wanted to be upset, but he knew Maddy had wanted this for a long time. They had successfully convinced Father to let Maddy go to Hogwarts (and wasn't that a surprise. Maddy could be terrifying sometimes with her blackmail...) so he wasn't going to upset Maddy or worse, guilt her into delaying her schooling by one year just because he wanted her to stay with him.
His eyes caught something interesting.
A book, with plain dark old leather binding, but the title was enough to make him intrigued.
"Magic in Nature. I haven't read that one," he spoke, breaking the silence. "Isn't that one from the higher shelf? The one mother said is too complicated for us."
Madeline stopped breathing for the briefest moment, looking hesitant with her eyes, and Barty grinned.
He knew that expression. It was her panicking look. Subtle it might be, but Barty wasn't called best brother for nothing. "Uh-oh. Someone doesn't want Mother to find out about something."
Hermione huffed. "I was going to let Mother know."
"Uh-huh? You'll tell mother after the book is already in Hogwarts, you mean."
Her cheeks turned red.
Honestly, yes. Mother was stern with them but she was never angry. Barty had proved it enough that it was easier to seek forgiveness than ask for permission... urgh. Hermione felt ashamed for thinking about it. She lifted her chin. "I will return the book."
Barty giggled. "Relax Maddy, I won't tell."
"No, really. I shouldn't have done it."
"Come on, it's just a book. Besides," wiggling his eyebrows, Barty gave her a positively mischievous grin, "isn't it exciting? A forbidden book, as your first crime against Mother's trust."
She chuckled. Dramatic prat. "I already broke Mother's trust often enough, helping you with your roguery."
.
The night continued on, and as Hermione finished packing all her books, Barty was there, making a couple comments on her various choices of books.
She must admit that the number of her books was immense. It was past midnight that Hermione packed the very last of the books, and she closed her trunk with a satisfied smile. "Alright, Barty. You should really go to sleep now..."
But her words weren't necessary at all, as she turned to see Barty already sprawled across her bed, lightly snoring.
She smiled as her heart screamed 'cute!' and Hermione gently climbed her bed to reach his brother.
Sleep didn't come easily to her, and her mind was replaying the memories of her years as Madeline Crouch as her hand started to play with Barty's hair.
It was nice, being Madeline Crouch.
She felt guilty for stealing the girl's life and wondered how it would be if Madeline Crouch had the chance to live through.
Would she be as close with Barty as Hermione was with him? Would she be closer? Could the real Madeline convince Father to let her go to Hogwarts? Would she let Father treat Winky awfully and watch Barty follow Father's example? Could she do better with Mother? Would Mother be happier with her?
It was a rabbit hole, and Hermione had fallen deep.
She also didn't know how Madeline Crouch would act when she reached Hogwarts. She didn't even know how she would act when she reached Hogwarts.
Mother had planted pureblood etiquette in her, and Hermione was reminded how different this year would be compared to her first year at Hogwarts.
She wasn't going to be too anxious to fit in a completely new world. Madeline was already a part of the elite families of wizarding Britain, and looking for a friend was not her top priority.
And even though she knew she would still be anxious and panicking here and there, Madeline Crouch had been taught to be able to keep her composure.
(The vile tutor was throwing the mudblood word too many times to break her composure as soon as he realized it was her trigger, along with severe condescending attitudes towards magical creatures... Madeline honed her sharp tone and indifference mask in his lessons.)
She also had a mission now. She wouldn't simply attend classes. She had to make plans, to prevent Hogwarts' downfall, no less.
Young Hermione, as exposed as she had been to Voldermort with Harry Potter as her best friend, hadn't really lived through the war. She had not been aware of the full danger, the things at stake. The current Madeline Crouch, however, would come to Hogwarts in the middle of a war, plenty aware of everything that goes around beyond the safety of the castle. In fact, she would be extremely aware of the dangers inside the castle.
Things would be different, and Hermione had to accept that.
And by accepting this fact, she knew that she had to act differently.
She just had to adapt, she supposed.
A sudden murmur broke her away from her thoughts, and she focused on Barty's sleeping face.
She couldn't see him as a future death eater even now.
As her breathing matched Barty's, pulling her to the darkness of the sleep realm, she wondered what other things would change.
.
Father surprisingly stayed for breakfast.
"Make our house proud, Madeline," he chimed in, in the middle of their meal.
Madeline hummed, agreeing to it easily.
"Be careful with your health. Do not do anything in excess, and watch what you eat."
She raised her eyebrow at that. Barty and Mother were probably sweating as they waited for another bickering that would certainly come whenever the subject of Madeline's health was brought up. Fortunately for them, Hermione was content to just listen this time. What he said was moderate, after all.
"Yes Father," her easy reply shocked Father, seen by how his eyes flickered to her in a moment.
Barty Crouch seemed to have other things to say, but they were saved by the buzz from his watch, urging him to attend to his work. The family watched in silence as Father took his drink and stood.
"Well, I couldn't see you off, Madeline."
She didn't shrug, as mother had scolded her many times for the lesson to stick, but it was a close thing. "I know. Have a good day at work, Father."
With a nod to his wife and one last 'study well' to both his children, Barty Crouch left the room, carrying with him the tension that weighed the room just before.
A pause.
Then,
"Study well, both of you," Barty mimicked Father with excessive lip movement. He snorted at the sound of his own voice. "Studying is all we ever do."
The ice cracked, and Hermione smirked.
"He means well," Mother scolded. "Let's not antagonize your Father. He was trying."
"He should have tried to spend more time with his family then," Hermione retorted. Or be less of a prick, her mind added. Mother couldn't say anything back, and the siblings caught the slightest slump on their mother's shoulder.
That wouldn't do.
Barty immediately knew his assignment and started to animatedly talk about Hogwarts' forbidden forest and its many dangerous inhabitants. Hermione added some facts here and there, and the siblings started to argue about the existence of Acromantula in the place.
Mother scolded them again, this time followed by a small smile. The morning became lighter, and when Winky joined them to give Madeline her lunch and snacks for the train ride, it felt like everything was back to the usual pleasantness.
As 11AM approaching rapidly, Hermione's anticipation grew and she couldn't shake off the nerves. She was going back to Hogwarts.
The next thing she knew, they were already standing in front of the entrance wall, and Mother gave her a reassuring smile.
With a nervous nod at mother, and a smile to Barty, the three of them walked through the wall.
.
Hogwarts express greeted them with its howl. Many students with their trunks and their owl were heading towards it, and families gathered to watch their children board the train, saying their goodbyes. But that sight couldn't compete with Hogwarts Express in its magnificent glory, as its big, red, body was regaled by the smoke above it, giving it a magical touch.
Barty was in awe, and Hermione fought the urge to run to the train and kiss it senselessly.
She turned to mother. "I will write every week."
Mother fixed her robe, cleaning the non-existent dirt from her shoulder. "Thank you. Study well, and make friends, alright?"
Mother's words overlapped with her mother's from the past memories, and Hermione felt a pang of pain in her chest. It didn't help that by association, her mind reminded her of what she done to her real mother-
She occluded.
"I will," Hermione promised in confidence.
With one last smile and hug to both her mother, she turned to Barty. His shoulder was slumped, she realized, and he was not looking at the Hogwarts express with big eyes anymore. No, his eyes were half-closed from looking downwards.
Hermione hugged her little brother.
"I'll miss you."
Barty returned the hug with more vigor. He didn't say anything back, but Hermione understood. When they finally pulled apart, she put her hands on his cheek and kissed his forehead as Barty leaned to her.
"Be good."
With one last hum from Barty, Hermione was finally ready to leave her new family.
She didn't look back to see Mother's teary eyes, or Barty's longing look.
She still felt their sadness echoed in every inch of herself.
.
Hermione walked in the Hogwarts express, carrying her lightened trunk with ease.
She forgot how big the train was for an eleven years old. She looked around in awe, as there wasn't any difference in the train from how it was in the future. There were students, passing by to find an empty compartment, or to find their group of friends. Once, it had been her trying to find Harry and Ron.
She doesn't have Harry and Ron now.
"-grease, Snivellous?"
"Leave him alone!"
She snapped out of her thoughts. There was a ruckus ahead of her, and she really didn't want to be caught up in it.
"Tsk, those blubbering fools are too loud," someone sneered from nearby. Hermione didn't mean to eavesdrop, but it was impossible for her to not hear the next words said.
"It's bad enough the red is making our eyes sore, now they must be harassing our ears too."
So the ruckus had been caused by a gryffindor, she deduced. She supposed it was best to stop searching ahead and started to settle for a compartment nearby. Thankfully, there was a compartment with a girl around her age.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"
The girl was wearing a yellow pleated skirt and black t-shirt. An aspiring Hufflepuff, perhaps? The overly friendly smile seemed to agree. "Not at all! Please sit!"
She smiled her thanks.
Once she had settled on her seat, the girl, who apparently had been waiting, was eager to start a conversation.
"I'm Bethany Hopkins. Your wand is beautiful, by the way."
She looked down to her wand in her arm holster, now visible after she took off her robe, leaving only her white shirt and knee-length grey skirt. It was indeed a beautiful wand. Beech, dragon heartstring core, 11 inches. Light brown, with a bit of engraving on its hold.
She was disheartened when her past (future?) wand refused her, but she chose to not dwell on it and accepted her new wand. Olivander said it would suit her well, and she trusted the wand maker.
It didn't make it easier for her to look at her wand and find it different than it was before, though.
"Thank you," she managed to say, looking up to her seatmate. "I am ...Madeline Crouch. It's a pleasure to meet you."
The girl beamed.
They talked for a bit after that, and Hermione's deduction on the girl being an aspiring hufflepuff was proven by the girl's own words.
"And you?" The girl asked cheerfully. "What house would you like to be in? You look like a ravenclaw. Speak like a ravenclaw too. My mother was a ravenclaw, so I know quite a bit about ravenclaws."
Hermione smiled, amused. "Perhaps. I guess I'll have any house the hat would put me in. I am not terribly picky, though I do not think I want to be sorted into Gryffindor."
Bethany snorted. "You don't say! My father said he wanted to be a gryffindor once, but he was glad that he was put in hufflepuff in the end. Gryffindors are too rowdy for him, and if it's too rowdy for him, then it's too rowdy for me and you."
That wasn't her reason, but it was easier for her to hum in agreement, though her heart was shouting.
Once, the hat put her in Gryffindor because even though she was equally suitable for both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, the Hat chose Gryffindor to cultivate the potential within herself. It showed, her potential that was, as she was fighting for a cause with Harry by her side. She didn't think she would impose herself in Harry's company if she had been sorted into Ravenclaw. She probably would have been content with her books. Probably would befriend Luna too, and eventually fight by Harry's side as a Ravenclaw, though she wouldn't be his closest friend.
Anyway, being sorted to Gryffindor was not a matter of being rowdy or brash, Neville was sweet and hadn't got a brash bone in him. But the stigma sticks, she supposed.
Honestly, the whole stigma was infuriating. Now that she had lived through a war, she realized now that a Gryffindor could be a coward and honorless, as was the case with Peter Pettigrew. A Hufflepuff could be dauntless and smart, like Cedric and Tonks. A Ravenclaw could be foolish and selfish, like Edgecomb (honestly? Thinking of gaining favor for her ministry worker of a mother by tattling a study group to that toad? There was no logic in it, at all!) And a Slytherin... a Slytherin could be brave and honourable, like Regulus Black when he met his death... or even show a bit of compassion and brash bravery, like Draco Malfoy at the manor, lying for Harry Potter...
Then there was Barty, an aspiring Slytherin. He told her repeatedly how he wanted to be in that house, and Hermione realized that once, those slytherins were just children. Hogwarts was the mold, and those slytherins grew in it, shaped as how Hogwarts shaped them to be.
Hermione didn't want Barty to grow limited to Hogwarts' mold.
Hermione mulled on this thought, and after a while, she had enough. There was no need for worrying about the sorting. She picked up a book and smiled at Hopkins. "Do you mind if I read?"
The girl shook her head. "Of course, not! What are you reading? The Spell Book? Are you going to practice a spell?"
... Didn't she just say she wanted to read? Hermione tried to maintain her smile. "I am. It feels good to finally have a wand."
"I know, right! Why do we have to wait until we go to Hogwarts to get a wand?"
To that, she agreed. Though she had read up on why, she still didn't understand why children being prone to be emotionally compromised would be the reason for the wand ban. They could have permitted children to use wands with strict parental supervision.
She didn't elaborate on the topic, though. Choosing to see the girl's last remark as rhetoric, Hermione only answered it with a hum.
She proceeded to read.
It was actually the Spell Book, grade 5, because she wanted to read more on the magical theories, but of course she had to conceal it to be the first year book. Speaking of the book, she actually had to read the Spell Books from grade one to seven again, because Miranda Goshawks' books, The Standard Book of Spells, were not even published yet. She remembered them being published in 1975, though she didn't know when Hogwarts started to use her books.
The rest of the train ride was more tolerable with her book and a bit of spell talk with Hopkins.
In the end, Hopkins, being an aspiring Hufflepuff, decided that they were friends, and that they should keep in touch even if they were sorted into different houses.
Hermione was not one to decline an offer of friendship.
.
She almost cried when she saw Hagrid.
He didn't change. At all
He was still as hairy as ever, towering over them with a lantern in his hand. It was like she was back in the past, or the future, really! He led them to the lake, and Hermione shared a boat with Hopkins and a couple other girls.
They didn't talk at all at the boat, completely mesmerized by the lights coming from Hogwarts castle. It was magical, even for Hermione who had experienced this once.
Her chest hurt when Professor Mcgonagall didn't recognize her (of course she wouldn't have. She never met Madeline Crouch nor Hermione Granger! She was stupid for being hurt about it.) And when she and her yearmates were finally led to enter the Great Hall, Hermione felt a metaphorical sword twisting its blade in her.
She was back.
The ceiling looked the same. The tables were there filled with children, just like her first feast at Hogwarts.
(It wasn't destroyed at all. There was no broken glass there at the table, no blood. No corpse. No Fred's body, or Professor Lupin and Tonks', holding each other. No, it was not a war zone.
No thanks to her mind who provided the memory for a comparison.)
All around her, she was surrounded by strangers. It was fine. She was used to strangers.
(She purposefully avoided the Headmaster's welcoming gaze.
The man was alive.
Safe. Dangerous. Alive.)
That was until she saw Harry.
Her breath got caught up in her throat, and Hermione felt like she was three again, with fungus covering her lungs.
It was Harry, sitting on Gryffindor's table. Same tousled hair, same glasses, the same smile.
But it was not Harry. The smile was wrong. His demeanors were all wrong.
Harry slouched, his nerve was often visible. He had a habit of making himself smaller, hoping to make himself go unnoticed.
That boy, with boisterous laughter and easy posture, was decidedly not Harry.
But it was like seeing a ghost.
"Madeline?" A concerned voice spoke to her, reminding her to breathe.
She inhaled.
Hopkins was eyeing her with worry and Hermione gulped. She jerked her head to the girl, smiling at her in assurance as she evened her breath.
Focus.
Hopkins didn't realize it, but she, by calling Madeline's name, had greatly helped her.
She was not Hermione Granger, best friend of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. She was in 1972. Here, she was Madeline Crouch, a sister of Barty Crouch. She repeated it over and over in her head, letting the sorting hat's song fall into the background.
Madeline Crouch, a sister of Barty Crouch.
Unfortunately, her mantra was easily broken by one mention of a familiar name.
"Black, Regulus."
She shouldn't have been that surprised.
Looking at the boy with dark curly hair, she should have realized that she would meet other connections with her future. The boy looked just like any other boy. She didn't even know how he looked in the future. But putting a face on a known name from her future...
"Slytherin!" The hat shouted, and Hermione watched the boy carefully.
He was composed, though his relief could still be caught by the keenest eyes. He glanced to his left side for a moment in hesitation, and Hermione couldn't help but follow his gaze...
And met another dark, curly haired boy.
Sirius, her mind provided.
.
She closed her eyes before her mind started to compare the boy to an Azkaban escapee from her third year.
Her years of break didn't prepare her for this.
She repeated her mantra again. She was Madeline Crouch. A sister of Barty Crouch.
When it was her time to be sorted, Hermione was still chanting her mantra over her head as she walked to the stool and sat on it. She stared off to the distance, not thinking of the crowd or her own sorting at all.
She was Madeline Crouch. A sister of Barty Crouch. She was Madeline Crouch. A sister of Barty Crouch. She was Madeline Crouch. A sister of Barty Crouch. Not Hermione Granger. Madeline Crouch. A sister of Barty Crouch.
Unconsciously, her memories of Barty played in her mind. Years of focusing on just being a sister of Barty Crouch made her beg the hat to just put her in a house where she could be a good sister for her brother.
The Hat didn't even hesitate.
"Slytherin!"
The shout broke her out of her stupor, and she could faintly hear the calm clappings that greeted her.
She still only mechanically walked towards her new table.
A table with green drapes over it.
She sat.
"A pleasure to meet you, Crouch. I am Regulus Black."
She blinked at the voice. It came from an eleven years old boy, sitting in front of her with his green tie on his chest (the color was wrong, wrong, wrong) She looked up, noticing his well-hidden nerves in his eyes. They were grey, she realized now. Just like Sirius.
He was R.A.B, her mind screamed. He wasn't dead. She smiled. "I am Madeline Crouch. A pleasure to meet you, too."
Hermione occluded when familiar names started to strike her hearing. Soon, the table was filled with her yearmates, and Madeline Crouch fell into her role.
The etiquette mother planted in her blossomed, and Hermione Granger hid inside her soul.
Madeline Crouch did not care for Regulus Black, nor did she care for Rabastan Lestrange who sat next to him. She didn't care that Narcissa Malfoy, as a sixth year prefect, was sitting two seats away from her and was currently speaking to her cousin with only the other fifth year prefect between them.
Madeline crouch was raised a pureblood, and so she played by their rules, exchanging pleasantries and such.
Dowson, the name of the girl who sat on her other side, was apparently not a pureblood, as she was getting sneered at by the majority of her yearmates. She took notes that two other people from her year didn't join the mass sneering, though Regulus Black was cutting it close as he glanced at the girl in perfect indifference.
The subject of one's parents apparently was the main interest in the Slytherin table, right next to various holiday houses and multiple frivolously extravagant activities, with side notes on filth and the likes.
"Is your father still working overtime, Crouch?" Another boy, something Pyrites, directed a question to her. His mocking tone was a tell. His family did not look at the DMLE in a positive light, and so were those of others who were trying to conceal their smirk. She resumed her meal.
"He is. There was an abundance of cases and not enough wizards to handle it."
"What kind of cases?" Her yearmate beside her chirped in. "You're so lucky you can hear important things from your father."
Just because it was Dowson, Hermione was tempted to say 'none of your business. Go lick other purebloods' feet, though she managed to bite the urge down.
Dowson was desperate to fit in, but she was using the word mudblood excessively to be seen as one of them. Madeline decided she didn't want anything to do with her.
"Confidental cases, though you would have heard of them if you ever read the prophet as the public information on them was splattered across it. That is, if you are not as ignorant as you seem to be."
Pyrites smirked at her reply and left her be, as he turned and continued to bother others.
It seemed like she passed some kind of test with her snide tone against the half-blood girl.
She couldn't care less and turned to Shafiq, the prefect beside her. "Do you have any warning regarding the professors? I don't want to accidently cross them."
The prefect hummed in approval.
As the older started to inform them the temperament of each professor they would have for their first year, Madeline was lulled into complacency.
It was all going well for Madeline Crouch.
Except, of course, it couldn't go all well for her.
The air suddenly grew colder, and the candle lights were flickering. A translucent sword visibly split the table and soon, a figure swam out of it, onto the table.
"Whoooo!" The figure mocked hauntingly.
Slytherins were taught better than to express their fear, but some was visibly startled, including her, and a few even dropped their spoon or paused mid-chew.
It was the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin ghost.
The sight of him reminded her of how sir Nicholas welcomed them as first years, and then promptly spooked them with the sight of his chopped neck due to her rather tactless question.
She wouldn't make the same mistake twice. She would choose silence over curiosity this time.
Speaking of silence...
She frowned as she realized it was quiet all around her. She broke away from her thoughts and blinked, finally aware of her surroundings.
And there The Bloody Baron was, hovering above them as he stared at her.
The ghost was staring at her.
She stared back.
.
Was this the Baron's way to intimidate the first years? She didn't recall him doing this at every opening feast.
Wait- could it be that the ghost recognized her? What is it? Did he know? How did he know? What did he know?
.
It was another whole minute before the ghost left her eyes and swam towards the door in haste, leaving Madeline to deal with the questioning looks from her yearmates. She calmly drank her pumpkin juice.
They were still looking at her.
She put her cup down.
"I wonder what happened to him," she said tonelessly, breaking the silence. "He seemed like he just saw a ghost."
A snort from Rabastan Lestrange saved her attempt at humor.
Soon, they ignored what just happened, though there were curious glances here and there.
Hermione couldn't relax, though. She was back in her worrying self, even though she promised herself she wouldn't.
Could it be that the ghosts could see her wearing a dead girl's skin? Did they sense Hogwarts' magic in her? What did they know?
Unfortunately, her questions had to wait. After the prefects led them to the dorm, Madeline was rushed to pick a bed, then she immediately had her schedule the next day.
She dutifully attended her classes.
.
September, 6th, 1972
Dear brother,
I have been sorted into your dream house. I can't wait to have you here with me.
How are your days without me? Not dreadfully boring, I hope?
Hogwarts is amazing, but the lessons quickly become a chore. I already know all the stuff they're teaching us here in the first year, yet i will have to turn in the assignments still... I am tempted to just pack my trunk and go home to study with you.
But the castle is incredible. You can feel magic thrumming in the walls, and the stairs move, just like it was said in Hogwarts A History. The Black Lake is fascinating with all the creatures in it, and it's even more fascinating to watch them from the dungeon. I saw the giant squid just last night, swimming by our common room.
It is all green here, in Slytherin. Dark, and also cold. You need to bring many of your sweaters here, the ones charmed with a heat-conserving charm. There is no boggart here in the dungeon, and Evan's stories are all exaggerated, as I expected them to be, as he is not even in Hogwarts yet. He must have heard them from other people and decided to elaborate the stories even further.
We do not all have snakes here, so there is no need to buy one.
I hope you continue to study well by yourself. And I want you to entertain our mother, alright? After you join me next year, she will be all alone. Enjoy her company while you can.
I miss Winky's cranberry pie. I miss our late night cookies. I miss our place at the library.
Speaking of the library, you are going to love Hogwarts library. You would think that our library is big, but Hogwarts library is gigantic. It's not complete, there are books in our library that Hogwarts doesn't have, but Hogwarts won in terms of broadness. It even has a book specifically discussing some kind of french worm. You would think a worm would not take a whole book to discuss, never mind a french one. The worm is called verplat, in case you are wondering. Which is ironic, because the worm looks fat. They are only called verplat because it can only be killed if we flatten them (or crush them, or burn them in a certain degree of heat to evaporate their body liquid), cutting them won't do it. Its body fluid is used in a potion that preserves portraits. Do you know why? Because they won't die! An immortal worm, Barty!
I will admit it, the worm is interesting. But let's stop talking about the worm. Hogwarts library is amazing. You learn interesting things every day.
(Now you know how bored I am with the lesson. For me to pick up a book about a worm...)
Tell Winky I miss her cooking. Hogwarts meals are delicious, but Winky's food always has a special place in my heart.
Don't do anything I wouldn't do. Be good to Mother. Practice and meditate with your magic.
Much love,
Maddy.