Chapter Text
Wednesday, January 17th
Hermione sat in the Beauxbatons dorm, petting Crookshanks. The cat was fully grown, yet spent half her time acting like a kitten, and the other half acting like a human. At the moment, she was sitting straight and regal on the canopy bed, surrounded by pale blue cushions, like a queen holding council with Hermione.
"I have all these questions," said Hermione. "But no one to ask them to, so I'll just ask you."
The cat blinked, flicking her tail as Hermione petted her head.
"First of all, I'm concerned about how we're handling the tournament," said Hermione. "The next task is only two weeks away, and we haven't had one Auror meeting to plan for it. I haven't even seen Madam Bones since before Christmas." She sighed. "I got all my homework done early because I thought I'd have no time, and instead I've got nothing to do. Aside from duelling practice, I guess. And working on the Patronus, not that it's going anywhere."
The cat ducked her head, since she'd decided that now was a good time to clean herself.
Hermione's hands went back to her lap. "I wonder," she said softly. "If the problem is that I'm just not happy enough." Her lips twisted into a wry smile. "Maybe I should ask Cedric to give me a few pointers. He's always so cheerful."
The cat paused her cleaning, glancing at Hermione.
"I know what you're thinking. No, it's not a requirement to cast the Patronus to be an Auror, but neither is being able to see, and the Ministry wouldn't hire most blind people. Besides, even if I do get in, the question will always be there, hanging over my head. Why can't the Girl-Who-Revived cast a Patronus?" She sighed, and started petting the cat again. "What do you think is wrong, Crookshanks? I've already tried everything I can think of. I even researched blocked Chakras a while back, but that didn't help either."
The cat rubbed her head against Hermione's hand, then licked it, purring loudly. She smiled when the cat jumped into her lap, still with that rumbling purr.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to give up," Hermione said with a laugh, her voice breaking a little. "It's not like I thought it would be easy to change the world." She glanced out the window near her bed and murmured. "Though it would be nice to catch a break once in a while."
The cat settled in to let Hermione pet her, but eventually got bored and started nibbling her hand. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but Hermione pushed her off her lap anyway. The cat wandered off to the window, leaped onto the ledge, and watched for birds.
Hermione was reading a book when Crookshanks started making chirping noises, ears pointed forwards in excitement. Then, she was silent. A few moments later, the cat made a long, low growl in her chest that ended with a hiss. This continued until Hermione came over to see what had gotten her so worked up.
There was nothing to see outside but the dark grounds of Hogwarts. No birds or animals, not even any students. Still, the cat kept growling, her ears pinned back on her head.
"What is it?" asked Hermione, in a whisper. "What do you see?"
With a normal cat, she would have shrugged it off, but Crookshanks was freakishly smart. Hermione had lost track of the number of times Crookshanks had found lost objects, opened locked doors, or just known things a cat shouldn't know.
Hermione's mind ran through the possibilities. It could be some students, spelled with invisibility, sneaking into the Forbidden Forest. Even with the spiders gone, the forest was still dangerous, so people dared each other to go in there. Or maybe it was something worse. A werewolf. A dementor.
Hermione saw a pale shape pass directly in front of the window, and she shrieked and jumped back. The transparent ghost of Moaning Myrtle giggled. "Oh, scared you didn't I?" The ghost passed inside. "Sorry, didn't mean to. I've come for refreshments. I hear you have a lovely cappuccino machine in the common area."
Hermione steadied herself against her bed posts. "What were you doing here?" she gasped. As far as Hermione knew, the ghost had never left the 4th floor bathroom.
"My own business," Myrtle said, lifting her chin. "I don't ask you what you're doing all the time, do I? Now, if you'll excuse me."
Moaning Myrtle swanned her way into the common room, and Hermione could hear the shrieks of the Beauxbatons girls as the ghost politely asked to sample the coffee machine.
Hermione let out a heavy sigh and turned back to her room, deciding it was time for bed. But as she got ready, the cat still sat staring out the window, silently watching the dark night.
Harry spent the evening alone in his trunk, reading the many books he'd checked out from the Hogwarts and college libraries. He made notes as he read, scribbling into a notebook in invisible ink.
He knew now that this was at least a limerence. It could be something more, but he wasn't about to admit that until he had more evidence.
"Science" liked to point out his current condition as proof, but Harry rejected that. Feelings of desire, in his opinion, were not enough evidence. Romantic love was, after all, more a unique cocktail of chemicals in the brain rather than an indication of one's state of mind. If he was about to change his whole entire life, and risk a friendship that was extremely important to him, he needed to be absolutely certain it wasn't a mistake.
Harry only knew one way to determine that, and that was using research to sort out his feelings. Unfortunately, this strategy was constantly hindered by the fact that he had no idea what he was doing. The data collecting section of his brain had compartments for everything, except romance. And what little information he had gathered wasn't integrating into the data web the way it was supposed to, and instead existed as scattered fragments that contradicted each other. It was maddening.
He was starting to think that maybe…just maybe…he needed to search for resources outside his books.
Harry was scribbling in his notebook when he felt a shift in Hogwarts. Something had just entered the castle grounds, and it wasn't supposed to be there. Harry lifted his head, searching the wards for where it had come from, but the sense of wrongness was gone.
Harry felt cold all over, and he saw that his hands were trembling. He swallowed, remembering that it had been twelve hours since he'd eaten a full meal, and at least two days since he'd eaten something that wasn't from a package. He didn't think he'd just imagined that, but his perceptions were suspect. He would look into it more, after he'd had a decent meal and a good night's sleep.
Thursday, January 18th
The next morning:
"It's funny, there's so much we don't know yet about magical plants. Professor Sprout let me take the microscopes, and lately I've been using them to draw some pictures. There's some really interesting things that…Daphne?"
She sat beside him in the common room, her note-taking quill idle in her hand, her gaze far away. Neville felt his face reddening, realizing he'd started rambling again. They were supposed to be studying the medicinal uses of beetroot, so he could understand why her eyes would glaze over. But normally she was engaged during study sessions, even when he started geeking out over plants.
She flinched as he waved a hand in front of her face. "Earth to Daphne," said Neville. "Are you still with me?"
"Huh?" She rubbed her forehead, frowning. "Sorry. I can't stop thinking about what happened this morning."
"What's wrong?" asked Neville.
Daphne sighed, leaning forward in her chair. "Lavender got into a huge fight with Romilda. They were screaming at each other, and then Lavender called Romilda a 'whore.' Romilda just lost it and started pulling Lavender's hair, it was so awful." Daphne squeezed her clenched hands. "Lavender's been acting so moody lately, but I never thought it would get this bad."
"Wow," said Neville. "Yeah, that's weird. What's been going on with Lavender?"
"She's been holding seances in the dungeons and telling everyone that doom is coming for us all. She's basically a conspiracy theorist now." Daphne crossed her arms over her chest. "I keep trying to talk to her and see if I can convince her to stop, but she keeps pushing me to do her divination stuff, and it's really starting to scare me. I feel like," she bit her lip, tears springing to her eyes. "I'm worried I'm going to lose her."
Neville listened to her with concern, scooting a little closer to give her a hug if she needed one. "Lavender's still doing those seances? I thought McGonagall closed the area off."
"Yeah, well, she must have some way to sneak in. And Luna keeps going with her."
"Luna too?" Neville blinked, then shook his head. "Have you tried talking to a professor about this?"
"No, but maybe I should." Daphne wiped her eyes. "I know Lavender would listen to Trelawny, but…I think I'll go to McGonagall instead."
Neville nodded. "Good idea. I go to her for help too sometimes." He sighed, leaning back on the sofa. "Actually, I have a friend who's acting weird too. Did you see that letter that went around the breakfast table this morning?"
"I didn't get a chance to read it, but everyone who did was laughing."
Neville shook his head. "Basically, it said, 'If you had a problem of an intimate nature, which student would you go to for help? Asking for a friend. Please write the name below.'"
Daphne let out a laugh. "Who wrote that?"
"Harry, of course. If I asked him, I know he would tell me he was polling the masses for data, for one of his experiments." Neville sighed with exasperation. "He can be so dense, though. I mean, when you word your questions like that, of course people are going to give you sarcastic responses."
"Hmm," said Daphne. "Well, have you tried talking to him?"
"I did try to catch him after breakfast, but he ran off, saying something about needing to read some stones."
"What does that—"
The floor rumbled, and that's when they heard the explosion.
The chill wind biting through his coat, Dean raised the Game Boy a little bit higher, straining against the rungs of the ladder. "Anything?"
After a moment of silence, Seamus said, "Not a flicker."
"Seriously?" Dean groaned, examining his Game Boy. "But last time it turned on for a whole three seconds."
Seamus huddled in his coat, his hood pulled tight around his ears. He'd never been a fan of the cold.
"That was before all the enchantments were placed on the lake for the Triwizard tournament," said Seamus. "I told you this would happen."
Dean sighed. He knew Seamus was losing interest in this project, and Dean didn't blame him. They'd been working for months, and had nothing to show for it. Recently, Dean had taken to researching on his own, just to give Seamus and Padma a break from it.
But last night, he been thinking about antenna and the theory that organic life was the wellspring of magic, and he'd decided that he hadn't tried everything until he'd gone up.
So after breakfast, they set up a really simple, non-transfigured metal workman's ladder near the Hogwarts lake. Dean was currently standing on the ladder while Seamus double checked his data (basically, just watching the screen do nothing). In retrospect, it wasn't Dean's best idea, or even a good one, but sometimes dumb and crazy worked. It certainly had for the Weasleys.
"What are you boys doing?" asked Hermione with a soft laugh. She stepped up to the ladder, a smile on her face. She was bundled up in robin's egg blue coat, snow clinging to her curly hair
"Oh, hi Hermione," said Seamus. "Is that a new coat? It looks lovely on you."
Dean snorted. They both knew she was way out of their league, but ever since Harry had said he wasn't interested, his friend had been shamelessly flirting. Dean couldn't help thinking how Seamus' height, combined with his accent, made it seem like he was one shamrock hat short of being a leprechaun.
Seamus grinned, thumbs in his pockets as Dean stepped down the ladder. "We're working on the project, since this poor lad you see beside me had another crazy experiment idea. He thought standing on this ladder would—"
"Well, it's finished now," cut in Dean gruffly, taking the final step off the ladder. "Anyway, it's not like all experiments can be winners."
Hermione smiled. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe the idea wasn't bad, but the method just needs tweaking."
"No, it was pretty lame," said Dean, shrugging. "I thought of it at around 2:00 this morning."
"So," drawled Seamus. "What are you doing here, Hermione?"
"Well," she said, shifting uncomfortably. "Last night I saw something strange outside my window. Maybe I'm being paranoid, but I thought I'd search the grounds to ease my mind. Have you boys seen anything out here this morning?"
"No, we haven't," said Dean. "But we'll come with you, right Seamus?"
"Absolutely," agreed Seamus. "Three sets of eyes are better than one!"
Leaving the ladder behind, they trekked around the lake, eyes peeled for any suspicious things. Hermione's wand glowed a bright pink, which she explained was a spell designed to trigger in response to magical contamination of the wards. "It's not a very hard spell to cast," she said. "The trick is that you have to know the exact spells that might be contaminated. Since I cast most of them, that's no problem."
As they walked along in silence, Dean tried to ignore the itching feeling in his right hand. His eyes kept lowering to glance at the Game Boy, just in case…but he quickly jerked them away.
"Who do you think will win the next round of the tournament?" asked Seamus, breaking the silence. "My money is on Angelica. Not only is she the bravest, she's been spending all her free time getting ready for deep water diving. I bet the other two come up for air after less than a minute."
Dean was pretty sure that no one except the champions were supposed to know the details of the tournament, but at this point, everyone knew everything there was to know. Most of his classmates were speculating what sort of special thing would be stolen from the tributes, from priceless heirlooms to actual people. Before Fred had left, he'd teased Angelica by saying he hoped she didn't find him too charming.
They'd made it halfway around the lake when Dean, pressing the power button absentmindedly, thought he heard the chime of music.
"Woah!" he said, jerking the Game Boy closer and staring at it. The screen was blank.
"What happened?" asked Seamus.
Disgusted, Dean thrust the Game Boy into his friend's hands. "Just take it. I can't be trusted with this device anymore. I've officially gone off the deep end."
Seamus tucked it into his coat pocket. "Don't feel bad. Admitting you have a problem is the first step."
"Yes, but what's the next step?"
"I think it's admitting your friend is smarter and better with the lasses than you."
Dean snorted. "I'll take a bludger to the noggin before that happens."
"Won't do much for your looks, mate." Seamus said, laughing. "So, what do you think, Hermione? Which one of us is better looking?"
She raised a finger to her lips, considering them both carefully. "Hmm. In my opinion, you're both quite handsome. It's too bad I'm only attracted to old men."
Seamus blinked, caught off guard. "Is that so…err…maybe I can get a polyjuice potion…"
She shook her head. "It has to be real, or I'm not interested. Hearing problems, liver spots, complaining about kids these days, everything." Her lip twitched. "It's so cute how they walk around with a cane too."
Seamus's mouth fell open, and Dean busted out laughing. Hermione smiled at Seamus, almost apologetically, and turned back to inspecting the lake. "Anyway, Dean, I don't think there's anything wrong with being passionate about your project. I think it's exactly what you need to solve a very difficult problem."
Dean quirked a half smile, feeling nervous. "Thanks, but to be honest, I don't think it's going to happen. I'm not book smart like you and Harry."
"Well, intelligence is one thing," said Hermione. "But it's not nearly so important as hard work and patience." She smiled, warmth in her eyes. "I'm sure you'll find your answers eventually."
Dean felt himself blush, which was slightly embarrassing. He realized at that moment that the only other person who'd ever been so supportive was Padma, everyone else always focused on what he was doing wrong.
He was considering bouncing an idea off of Hermione, one that had been rattling around in his head for awhile now, but at that moment his friend's pocket started glowing red.
"Oh, it's found something again," said Seamus, pulling the Remembrall from his pocket.
"You're still carrying that thing around?" said Dean. "You don't even know whose that is."
Seamus bent down to dig in the snow. "I dunno, but sometimes it helps me find cool stuff."
Harry's Patronus suddenly flashed in front of them, pale gold against the icy lake.
"Hermione?" His voice was tense. "Where are you? The wards—" something fell with a thud, and Harry groaned and cursed. "They told me there's a something beside the lake that's NOT supposed to be there."
As the Patronus spoke, Hermione's pink tipped wand flared, and started blazing red. The look of shock on her face showed that this wasn't supposed to happen.
"Please, be careful," warned the Patronus. "You're in—"
Suddenly, Dean found himself crushed in Hermione's arms as she sprinted them away from the area, just as the snow behind them exploded in an array of ice powder, enveloping the Patronus, followed by a giant boom that reverberated through his spine.
After several breathless seconds, Hermione stopped, and Dean felt himself falling into the snow. Seamus cried out, dropping the Remembrall from his hand. It had cracked, blood clinging to the shards of glass. Hermione, breathing hard, scanned the area with her wand.
A few moments later, Headmistress McGonagall appeared in a puff of smoke. "Merlin's beard, what is going on here?"
"So, let me get this straight," said Filius Flitwick, with obvious disbelief. "Hermione thinks a ghost did this?"
"That's her theory," said Minerva, casting a series of protection spells around the lakeside. The three students had been sent inside to safety, leaving the two professors to investigate the situation.
"But that's impossible," said Filius, his eyebrows twitching with irritation. "Ghosts have no real agency, and they certainly can't perform magic of this magnitude. A wizard would have to pass a century before he could perform a spell that traps this much power into the environment."
"You're quite right." Minerva had expected Filius to be annoyed. He was the sort of person who needed evidence to believe anything. "But consider-Moaning Myrtle cannot be found."
"I'd hide too, if I was her. We don't need a ghost witch hunt. We need real answers." He shook his head, casting a spell to dispel more of the magical build up. "I'm starting to think it was a mistake to host this tournament. There's too much political tension, and apparently some wizards aren't above compromising young people's safety to promote their agendas."
Minerva frowned. It was disturbing, to say the least, that someone had known to enchant the exact spot where the foreign champions would be starting from. If the young wizards had been any closer to the blast, it would have destroyed them where they stood.
Observing the destruction in front of them, she said softly, "Do you think this is related to what happened on Christmas?"
Filius cast another protection charm and considered his answer. "If the blast were less powerful, I might believe it was just a prank. But this seems like the work of a dark wizard, so…I'm not sure. We need more information." His brow furrowed. "Where are the Aurors now?"
"Auror Crell is searching the castle grounds, along with Professor Lee. Tonks is inside with Hermione and Cedric, guarding the students in the Great Hall." Her heart sank at the thought that, once again, her students had to worry for their safety. She hoped this would be the last attack on school grounds, but she had a feeling it was only the beginning.
If only she could have one normal school year. Was that too much to ask?
Harry raced downstairs, searching for the exit. Damn stupid that the warding stones had to be on the 5th floor, he didn't have time for this! His Patronus wouldn't respond to him for some reason, and Hermione's Auror mirror wasn't working, so he had no idea if—
He skidded to a halt as he saw her trudge inside, shaking snow off her coat. She was followed by Dean and Seamus, who was cradling his arm against his chest.
"Go to the Great Hall, please," said Hermione. "Tonks can heal your hand. I'll join you soon." She saw Harry on the stairs, took in a breath. "Harry."
Harry's heart was hammering hard. "You're not hurt?"
She shook her head, and Harry felt a weight lift off him.
Hermione started climbing the steps. "I have to go gather up the other students and get them to the Great Hall." Stopping beside him, she touched his shoulder. "Will you wait there for me?"
Harry couldn't even speak, so he just nodded.
She squeezed his shoulder, gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you."
Hermione ran on up the stairs, while Harry started walking down. A couple of seconds later, he wished he'd followed her.
Harold raised a shaking hand and knocked on the door.
"Enter," barked the voice inside.
Taking a deep breath, he opened the door to Madam Bones' office.
She sat behind a desk, beside a stack of papers almost as tall as her seated form. She was scribbling something on one parchment, and even as he entered, it flew from her hands into the chimney and disappeared.
"Report," she said, not bothering to look at him.
"Umm…" He'd been planning hedging on the truth a little bit, but in the moment, he decided to be completely honest. "We haven't made any progress. Two more watermarked entries came in last night, and we could not identify them."
She harrumphed, her quill blazing across the parchment, her glare sharp enough to cut glass. "This is the third week in a row you've come to me with nothing. I have all my spare resources working on this project, and I am even pulling from other understaffed departments. I know you are new to this position, but with all the help you're receiving, I am surprised you keep coming to me with empty hands."
"I'm sorry," Harold said, feeling the sweat chill under his robes. "The spell placed on the logs is very complicated. Every time we think we've cracked it, it morphs and we have to start all over. One piece of good news I have is that there have been no more attempted terror attacks."
"Yet," she finished for him, finally raising her eyes. "It will happen, eventually, mark my words. And if my Aurors aren't in position to take the terrorists away in chains, and instead we have a massacre that ends up on the news, then you will have to live with the knowledge of that failure, as will I. Keep that in mind as you try to crack that code. Don't come back to me with nothing next week."
"Yes, ma'am," he said, bowing. He was hoping and praying he was dismissed, but she hadn't waved him off yet. Instead, she was staring at a random spot in the room, her frown deepening. "Bloody hell," she whispered. "It never ends, does it?" She stood and threw some floo powder into the fireplace. As it glowed green, she said, "Hogwarts."
He closed the door as she disappeared into the fireplace.