It was still dark when Belle woke up. Her thoughts were still on her dream as she took a few moments to get her bearings and remember where she was.
She'd first dreamed of her mother. Sometimes she'd dream about their home in Paris and her mother brushing her hair, teaching her etiquette, or just talking to her. These simple dreams brought Belle joy to still have those recollections.
In this particular dream, her mother was entertaining some of her friends while her father tinkered away in his workshop. Belle's mother had all sorts of different friends. Some in high society, some foreign from her native England, or even further abroad.
Belle dreamt of a night when she was about 5 and her mother had been entertaining friends from England.
"These are my school friends, Belle darling," her mother had said. "Come say hi."
Shyly, Belle had approached and given the room a little curtsey.
"She's gotten so big!" one of her mother's friends had exclaimed.
"And beautiful too!" another had commented. "You named her well."
Belle had shyly moved to sit at her mother's side, who wrapped her arm around her young daughter and kissed her on the forehead.
Belle had pulled out a book and read at her mother's side while she talked with her friends. A phrase had caught Belle's attention, "Back in our Hogwarts days…" Belle had looked up, startled at those words, but the room had vanished and it was just her and her mother in an indiscernible mist.
Her mother had looked older than she had moments ago and Belle was now at her full height, no longer a small girl of 5. Her mother's curly blonde hair had cascaded down her shoulders over her blue attire.
"Mama?" Belle had said wonderingly. "Is that you?"
Her mother had only nodded, smiling with love in her eyes and kissed Belle on her forehead, echoing the action she'd done in the previous dream. Then her mother had vanished and Belle was in her favorite meadow outside of her countryside village.
Then Belle had seen Hermione and forgotten entirely about her previous dream.
Until now. Belle struggled to remember all the details of both dreams.
If only I could write it down, she thought. Oh! Hermione mentioned a journal and a desk. I'm sure I can find writing materials.
Belle quietly pulled aside the curtain on her four-poster bed, careful not to wake up any of the other girls sleeping in the room. Ginny had told her their names, but Belle couldn't recall them. Belle spotted a sheet of parchment, quills, and a bottle of ink. Taking her Field Guide to use as a writing surface, Belle jotted down everything she remembered about her dreams.
Had her mother truly gone to Hogwarts? Was that a real memory or something induced by her recent experiences?
Why had they left Paris? Belle had been about 5 when they left, so the memories were hazy. But something told Belle she should try to remember.
Belle's eyes landed on a book on the desk, the book that had jumped out at her at the library, Witch Hunts of the 18th Century. She picked it up and flipped it open to a random page. Belle's eyes widened as she read, "In the year 1748, a resurgence of witch hunts came to Paris, more thorough than the previous attempts. An offshoot of remaining North American Scourers had made their way to mainland Europe, equipping and training Muggle witch hunters. These witch hunters had advanced anti-magical equipment and magical detectors, able to reliably track down witches and wizards."
Belle looked up from the book, her eyes wide. Witch hunts. It stirred something in her memory. How when she was young, the house would clean itself. How the knives would chop vegetables as her mother cooked. How the fires would be lit instantaneously.
Her mother brewing potions that she would give Belle and her father when they were ill. That she would sell or give to others in need.
Things that had seemed normal to Belle growing up in Paris that stopped happening when her mother was gone.
Belle's mother was a witch. Had she gone to Hogwarts then?
Could Belle find information about her mother here? Perhaps in that glorious library?
Belle looked back down at the book on her lap. Witch hunts. Another memory stirred. Her parents packing up their things in their apartment, talking in rushed, quiet voices. "You take Belle immediately," her mother had said. "I'm going to cast a spell on her to contain her magic." She had sighed, looking at Belle. "And modify her memory."
"No!" her father had said. "We're not leaving you. And you can't make Belle forget you."
"Of course I won't make her forget me," her mother had said. "I'm just going to alter it so she doesn't remember magic. Until the time is right."
"We're not leaving you," her father had said again.
"Yes, you are," her mother had replied. "It's safer for her if I'm not with you. Just in case. I'll join you later. I promise."
But then her mother never did join them. After Belle and her father had moved to the village, they waited for her and waited for her. But she never arrived. What had happened? They never knew. Her father kept inventing. He told Belle that she was gone and wouldn't talk to her about it. Belle began to believe that her mother was dead.
Now Belle didn't know. Witch hunts were brutal and terrible things. Had she been killed? Or was she out there somewhere still?
Another mystery.
From the bed next to her, a curtain slid open to reveal a messy-haired Ginny. "Morning," Ginny said, smiling sleepily at Belle whose curtains had remained opened. "How did you sleep?"
"I slept well," Belle said, wondering if she should tell Ginny about her dreams. Belle couldn't see why not as Ginny was her best ally here. "I had some interesting dreams. I'd like to tell you about them, actually, because I think they'll help."
"Oh?" Ginny asked. "Let's go down to breakfast and we can chat on the way."
Belle went over to where Hermione kept her clothes, as Ginny had shown her yesterday. Belle wasn't sure what to wear. She peeked over at Ginny and saw Ginny pulling on some red robes. Ginny saw her looking and explained quietly, "I have Quidditch practice this morning." Ginny peered into Belle's wardrobe. "You don't have to wear the school uniform today," Ginny said pointing at the black robes, "as it's the weekend. Unless you want to. You can wear whatever you want."
Belle found a simple-looking dress and decided to pull that on, feeling shy about changing in front of someone else. She could have gone to the bathroom across the hall but decided it might seem weird if she did as she'd seen all other girls changing in the room the night before. Perhaps after 6 six years of school together, they'd gotten comfortable with each other.
"I don't know how you managed to find the one thing that Hermione never wears," Ginny laughed under her breath. "I didn't know Hermione even had any dresses."
"Oh!" Belle whispered back, not wanting to draw attention to herself, "Should I change?"
"No, it's fine," Ginny said quietly. "If she brought it, maybe she'd planned to start wearing clothes like that. I doubt anyone else will notice. I just know her really well. Let's go."
As they exited the dorm room and made their way down the stairs, Belle asked Ginny, "You said you have some kind of practice this morning?"
"Yes! Quidditch," Ginny said enthusiastically. "It's our wizarding sport. I love it. I'm the captain this year and I've got to get there early. We're holding tryouts for the team as we have a couple of vacant spots to fill."
"I see," Belle said. "Sounds interesting."
"Hermione doesn't really enjoy flying the way the rest of us do," Ginny said. "Harry, Ron, and me all play Quidditch, but it's not really Hermione's thing." Ginny patted Belle on the back. "So it's not really something you need to stress learning about unless you just want to."
Belle nodded, somewhat relieved. She had more pressing things she wanted to learn about.
"If you'd like," Ginny said as they climbed out of the portrait hole. "You can come watch practice. Maybe bring your book and study."
"Maybe I will," Belle said. "Say, Ginny, is there a way I can look up past students? From several hundred years ago?"
Ginny looked startled. "I suppose so," she said slowly. "Hermione certainly did this a few times over the years. Why do you ask?"
Belle told Ginny about both of her dreams and what she recalled and suspected about her mother. Belle's recounting took them all the way to the Entrance Hall.
"Wow," Ginny said, leading them through the doors to the Great Hall. "That would explain your natural talents with magic. Though I'm still puzzled how you can do nonverbal magic the way you can."
Ginny began to lead them to the table at the far end of the hall but then stopped abruptly. Belle looked at her questioningly and followed Ginny's gaze to the table at the opposite side of the room from where they stood. The head table, as Ginny referred to it, where the professors all sat. Belle recognized Professor McGonagall sitting in the middle of the table, who stared at both of them and beckoned them to her impatiently.
They changed direction and made their way to Professor McGonagall.
"Good morning," she said briskly. Then lowered her voice. "I have filled in Hermione's professors about the change in…situation." She looked at Belle. "They have all agreed to assist me in covering for you as you adjust to this new situation. In addition, they have agreed to give you additional lessons outside of class. This is extra work for everyone, but we all agree that helping you fit in here is paramount."
"Thank you, Professor," Belle said politely. "I don't wish to be any trouble."
Professor McGonagall's gaze turned soft. "It's no trouble, my dear. It's nothing of your doing. Besides, we all owe much to Hermione. It's the least we can do."
"I appreciate it," Belle said. "What do I need to do?"
Professor McGonagall handed Belle a sheet of paper. "Here is your revised schedule. It has your classes as well as the times for your additional lessons," she said. "If anyone asks you about the extra lessons, tell them that you're doing advanced studies. No one would be surprised by that."
"Okay," Belle said, looking at the schedule. "Looks like I have two today."
"Yes," Professor McGonagall said. "It's the only way to fit everything in, I'm afraid. But you do get Sunday off."
"One is with you," Belle said. "And the other with a Professor Flitwick."
"Indeed," Professor McGonagall said. "I will meet you in the entrance hall after breakfast and we can get started."
"Okay, sounds good," Belle replied.
"Miss Weasley," Professor McGonagall said. Ginny straightened. "Do make sure you find suitable replacements for our team this year. As headmistress, I cannot show favorites, but it would be a shame if Gryffindor didn't have a fighting chance."
"I won't let you down, Professor," Ginny said, grinning.
"Good," said Professor McGonagall. She waved her hand at them in dismissal and the two made their way to the Gryffindor table for breakfast.