Stupid Boys
The Muggle-Borns did not remain as close as Hermione had anticipated. They were all chatty and friendly in classes, but they strayed towards their housemates - with the exception of Hazel and Manaia, who were stuck together like glue and avoided their roommates like the plague. Roland and Astrid remained close friends, but the rest of the group were merely friends with the others outside of their house.
Justin became best friends with Ernest Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, Susan, and Astrid. Roland hung out with Amanda Brocklehurst and Padma mostly, drifting over to Astrid once in a while, as she did to them.
Dean was best friends with his roommate Seamus Finnegan almost instantly. Shy Neville Longbottom joined them sometimes, although he usually hung around Geoffery Hooper, a Gryffindor in the other dormitory. Dean sometimes hung around with Hermione. They had gotten close during the summer holiday, and it was a comfortable, platonic friendship.
What was not a comfortable friendship, was her one with Maliana Malfoy and Halley Nott.
Hermione liked to keep to herself, something Maliana Malfoy and Halley Nott clearly didn't recognise, as the two would often hang around her like they were a trio. It was lovely, and the two were unlike the only other friend Hermione had ever had - the real Hermione Granger.
Much to Dean's outrage (like he can really argue), Hermione best friend came in the form of one Argent Kildare.
Argent Kildare was a remarkably pretty girl with fair skin, long blonde hair, and light green eyes. She was one of the Heirs, having claimed the Kildare seat. She had enough wit to rival Hermione's, but she didn't care to show it off. She didn't show it off at all. It was a rare occurrence to ever hear Argent Kildare speak. The girl was selectively mute. She had severe social anxiety clung to the corners and hid from the public as much as possible.
That didn't mean to say she couldn't speak, Hermione had heard her speak several times. She simply chose not to. It was wonderfully refreshing compared to the lathered speech Hermione had to go through. Argent and Hermione were a rather odd duo - Hermione vomiting words about whatever random thing, and Argent nodding along quietly.
Hogwarts had been going remarkably well. A few weeks had gone by, and Hermione had heard not one word about Bellatrix nor the Blacks regarding her.
What was not going well, was the insufferable feud. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter were in love, and very very in denial about it. The two were obsessively annoying with each other, yet somehow neither had noticed.
It only grew when it was announced Slytherins and Gryffindors would take Quidditch lessons together. Malfoy had spent the past few weeks going on and on about how remarkable a flyer he was. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters.
Another thing he would relentlessly go on about was the lack of letters on Harry's part. He never received any from home, something Draco seemed to enjoy poking fun at despite his sister never receiving anything either. Any correspondences Maliana received were from their aunt's family - the Tonks' - or her older sister Leta with nothing from her parents (a consequence of not being sorted into the 'right house'). But clearly Draco's very minimal respect for his sister at least lasted enough not to ridicule her publicly.
On the morning of the first Flying lesson, Hermione was sitting between Argent and Dean when her lovely breakfast was disrupted by the arrival of a barn owl. The barn owl was not the cause for the disruption, rather it was what followed.
A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.
"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things –this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red – oh ..." His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet. "... you've forgotten something ..."
Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.
Harry and Ron jumped to their feet. Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash. "What's going on?"
"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."
Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table. "Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle behind him.
Hermione predicted the drama didn't end there. That afternoon at three-thirty, the Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for the first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance. The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground.
Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived after a minute. Why she saw a reason to leave forty uncontrollable children alone with a bunch of brooms instead of waiting was far beyond Hermione. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.
"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone standby a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."
Hermione raised an eyebrow at her teaching methods but took her place over an old broom in between Halley and Argent without argument.
"Stick out your right hand over your broom," Madam Hooch called at the front, 'and say, "Up!"
This was ridiculous. No one ever used this to draw their brooms - not when they can pick it up by hand. Laziness was a common theme in the wizarding world, apparently.
"UP!" everyone shouted.
Hermione's broom shuffled on the ground before lifting into her hand. Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did, Maliana's shot into her hand, and Halley's was halfway in the air, but Neville's hadn't moved at all. Argent hadn't bothered with the action, having no care at all for the waste of a movement. She plucked it from the ground without bother, as did everyone else who hadn't managed it.
Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows, correcting their grips. Harry and Ron were delighted when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years. Maliana took the criticism much better than him, adjusting her grip and thanking the teacher politely, however as soon as Hooch's back was turned, she made a face at Halley, who giggled quietly
"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," Hooch said. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forw ards slightly. On my whistle – three – two – "
But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Hooch's lips. "Come back, boy!" she shouted.
"Maybe you should tell him what to do considering this is our first lesson," Halley suggested.
Hermione nodded at her, but Madam Hooch did nothing of the sort. She did nothing at all. Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle – twelve feet – twenty feet. His scared white face looked down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom, and –
WHAM – a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay, face down, on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher and started to drift lazily towards the Forbidden Forest and out of sight.
Madam Hooch was bent over Neville, her face as white as his. "Broken wrist. Come on, boy – it's all right, up you get," she muttered to him.
"How the hell does he only have a broken wrist? Did you see how far he fell?" Maliana whispered to Halley and Hermione.
Madam Hooch turned to the rest of the class. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say "Quidditch". Come on, dear."
"Why doesn't she just heal him now or ask Madam Pomfrey to come down herself instead of leaving a bunch of children unsupervised?" Maliana and Argent's roommate, Kiera Breslin whispered.
"That would be logical, so it never occurred to them," Hermione whispered back.
Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.
No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter. "Did you see his face, the great lump?" Some other Slytherins joined in. Others, who Hermione recognized as Daphne Greengrass and Lily Moon rolled their eyes.
"Shut up, Malfoy," Parvati snapped.
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" Pansy Parkinson said, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."
"Screw you Parkinson," Parvati gritted her teeth, death glaring the other girl.
"Look!" Malfoy interrupted, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.
"I think Malfoy's a kleptomaniac," Hermione whispered, and Kiera laughed.
"Give that here, Malfoy," Harry said quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch, while Maliana rolled her eyes.
Malfoy smiled nastily. 'I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect – how about – up a tree?"
"Give it here!" Harry yelled.
Malfoy leaped onto his broomstick and took off. "Come and get it, Potter!" Harry grabbed his broom.
Ugh! Silly boys, running headfirst into trouble without thinking about the consequences. They could get into a lot of trouble for flying, which could destroy their futures.
"No!" Hermione tried. "Madam Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us all into trouble."
Harry ignored her. He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared, air rushed through his hair and his robes whipped out behind him. He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher and heard screams and gasps of the kids back on the ground and an admiring whoop from Ron.
He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in mid-air. They exchanged a few words before Harry leaned forward and shot towards Malfoy. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about turn and held the broom.
"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back towards the ground.
"Idiot," Maliana rolled her eyes.
Harry leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down. He sped down in a steep dive, racing the ball.
"Not bad," Halley mused from where they watched. While several people screamed.
"Ten pounds he makes it," Daphne Greengrass told her.
"I'll take that bet," Halley nodded.
Harry stretched out his hand – a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.
Halley plucked ten coins from her pocket and placed them in Daphne's hands. "Pleasure doing business," the Slytherin smiled.
"HARRY POTTER!"
Everyone froze. McGonagall was running towards them. Harry got to his feet, trembling.
"Never – in all my time at Hogwarts –" McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, " – how dare you – might have broken your neck –"
"It wasn't his fault, Professor –"
"Be quiet, Miss Patil –"
"But Malfoy –"
"That's enough, Mr Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."
Everyone was silent as they left. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle looked triumphant. Hermione sighed, turning to look at them. "You do realize that he isn't going to be expelled, right? The amount of public backlash that would come from that alone is ridiculous. He's the boy who lived. At the most he'd get a detention or writing lines on safety," she folded her arms.
Malfoy scoffed and opened his mouth to say something. Probably something degrading that Hermione had no interest in listening to.
Hermione turned around, walking towards the castle. "Where are you going?" Ron asked.
She turned back to look at them. "We have no teacher. If you would all like to go flying into the air and likely break your necks given you have no proper training and there is no one capable of saving you, go right ahead. I, however, am going back inside to do some studying. Unless you have all forgotten that Professor Snape assigned an essay this morning?"
Daphne laughed, following Hermione up to the castle. "I think you and I will get along well, Miss Granger," she laughed.
=====================
As Hermione expected, Harry was sitting calmly at dinner. He and Ron whispered conspiratorially, which the Weasley twins joined in on once they came in.
"What do you think happened?" Halley asked.
"I don't know, but your brother looks pissed," Hermione said as she sat down, reaching for a ladle.
"Oh yeah, you were badass," Manaia grinned.
"Thank you," Hermione, but it soon fell. "I am going to murder that cousin of mine."
"Dora? I thought you said she was your best friend?" Dean frowned.
"Not her. Draco," Hermione looked to where Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle were talking to Harry and Ron.
"We're not cousins," Maliana laughed.
Hermione glanced up innocently. "Didn't I mention? My mother is Ted's younger sister. My mother's sister-in-law's sister's daughter is you," she smiled.
Maliana blinked. "I- Andy never told me she had another niece."
Hermione didn't reply, simply cutting into her steak and eating silently. Down the table, Malfoy's voice drifted over. "-I'd take you on any time on my own. Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel."
Hermione placed her fork down in annoyance. "Ton frere est un idiot," she muttered.
"What did you say?" Manaia frowned.
"Your brother is an idiot. He is currently organizing a wizard's duel with Harry and Ron," Hermione sighed.
Maliana simply shrugged. "It's a trap. He would never actually show up," she said reasonably. "And if he does, good riddance. All three of us would be disappointments then."
That night, Hermione waited in the Common Room for Harry and Ron. She wasn't going to originally, but they were being idiots. Harry had only just gotten away from his close expulsion. They were the very epitome of Gryffindor recklessness. Hermione could see what the hat meant now with his comment. Gryffindors were not brave, they were reckless.
At half-past eleven, two boys in dressing gowns crept into the room. Hermione waited for one of them to stop, to think about their actions, but neither did. "I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry," Hermione said, and they both turned around. Hermione flicked a lamp on so they could see it was her, and Ron's expression turned sour.
"You!" Ron said furiously.
"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying. I don't think you should do this," Hermione said, getting to her feet.
"Come on," Harry said to Ron, ignoring her. He pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole. Fine. If they were going to get themselves expelled, Hermione wasn't about to stop them.
But, neither knew any healing spells, and Draco was not about to heal them if he was even coming. There was nothing else to do. Hermione followed them out of the Portrait Hole, shutting the door and seeing the Fat Lady was gone.
"You don't have to come," Ron told her.
"Yes, I do," Hermione eyeballed him, walking past and leading the way down the hall. They'd barely got far when Hermione noticed something on the floor - or rather, someone. She gasped, kneeling down.
"What now?" Ron grumbled, but his scowl faded when he spotted Neville curled up on the floor asleep. Hermione shook him awake.
"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours. I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed."
"Keep your voice down, Neville. The password's "Pig snout" but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere," Hermione told him.
"How'd you know?"
"I looked behind me," Hermione rolled her eyes
"How's your arm?" Harry asked.
"Fine," Neville said, showing them. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."
Then why was he gone all day? Hermione was growing more and more frustrated by these witches and wizards by the minute. Hopefully, all her logic will still be there once she's graduated.
"Good – well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later –"
"Don't leave me!" Neville scrambled to his feet. "I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."
Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione and Neville. "If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about and used it on you."
Hermione opened her mouth to tell him that if anything, they were going to be the reason for them all getting caught with their recklessness and idiocy, but Harry hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned them all forward.
They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn, Hermione expected to run into Filch or Mrs Norris, but they were lucky. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed towards the trophy room.
Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. The minutes crept by.
"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.
"Or maybe, this is all a trap to get you in trouble," Hermione hissed.
Then a noise in the next room made them jump. "Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."
It was Filch speaking to Mrs Norris. Harry waved madly at the other three to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently towards the door away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped around the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.
"They're in here somewhere," he muttered. "Probably hiding."
"This way!" Harry mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run – he tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armor.
The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle. What an idiot.
"RUN!" Harry yelled and the four of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following –they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead without any idea where they were or where they were going. They ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it, and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room.
"I think we've lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.
"I told you," Hermione told them, not even slightly out of breath from all her exercise every morning. Running around the castle from Filch is nothing compared to the lake.
"We've got to get back to Gryffindor Tower," Ron said. "Quickly as possible."
"Malfoy tricked you," Hermione said to Harry, ignoring Ron. "You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you – Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."
Harry sighed, looking away. "Let's go," he said.
It wasn't going to be that simple. They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them. It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.
"Shut up, Peeves – please – you'll get us thrown out."
Peeves cackled. "Wandering around at midnight, ickle firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."
"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please."
"Should tell Filch, I should," Peeves said in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."
"Get out of the way," Ron said, taking a swipe at Peeves.
"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"
Ducking under Peeves they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor, where they slammed into a door – and it was locked.
"This is it!" Ron moaned as they pushed helplessly at the door. "We're done for! This is the end!"
They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could towards Peeves's shouts.
"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry's wand, tapped the lock and whispered, "Alohomora!"
The lock clicked and the door swung open – they piled through it, shut it quickly and pressed their ears against it, listening.
"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch was saying.
"Quick, tell me."
"Say "please"."
"Don't mess me about, Peeves, now where did they go?"
"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," Peeves said in his annoying sing-song voice. Hermione was suddenly thankful for the annoying poltergeist. 'All right – please."
"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!" And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.
"He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispered. "I think we'll be OK – get off, Neville! What?"
Hermione turned around and her jaw dropped. She realized where they were instantly. They weren't in a room. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden.
They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. It was standing quite still on top of a trapdoor, all six eyes staring at them.
Harry groped for the doorknob – they fell backward – Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else because they didn't see him anywhere, but Hermione hardly cared – all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.
"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at their dressing-gowns hanging off their shoulders and their flushed, sweaty faces.
"Never mind that – pig snout, pig snout," Harry panted, and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling into armchairs, all except for Hermione, who wasn't slightly out of breath. She simply fixed her nightgown and sat down on one of the couches patiently.
It was a while before any of them said anything. Neville, indeed, looked as if he'd never speak again. Hermione was simply lost in thought, wondering exactly who thought it would be a good idea.
Well, she didn't need to wonder. Clearly, it was Dumbledore, who had no regard for children's safety. But surely the teachers would have stopped him. Why didn't they.
The trapdoor.
"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" Ron said finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."
"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" Hermione snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"
"The floor?" Harry suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."
"No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something." She stood up, glaring at them. "I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed – or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."
Hermione did not go to bed. Instead, she wrote three separate letters about the evening's events to Andromeda, Dora, and her mother respectively.
Dear Mum.
You were right. Dumbledore is insane. There is a Cerberus in the school.
Love, E