The Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson had already begun when the door creaked open and Hermione slipped quietly into the classroom. She tried to hurry to her seat, keeping her head down and hoping not to draw attention. It didn't work. The moment she appeared, the whole class turned to look at her. Her hair was even more tangled than usual, dark circles marked her eyes, and she looked as though she hadn't slept at all.
Whispers spread at once, and Harry and Ron exchanged uneasy looks. That morning, when Hermione hadn't shown up for breakfast, they had assumed she had gone to the library again to check something 'incredibly important' before lessons. It was exactly the sort of thing she would do. But soon, strange rumours began to spread through the house.
Nora Scarleton had been the loudest. She told everyone that something odd had happened in their dormitory during the night, something they had supposedly been forbidden to talk about. She passed it off as another of 'Hermione's quirks', saying she had 'read herself half mad and started imagining horrors'. Harry and Ron hadn't known what to make of it then. Now, looking at Hermione, they understood that something really had happened, even if Nora had twisted it. All they could do was watch in confusion as their friend, who was never late to class, made her way to her seat.
"Miss Granger," Gilderoy Lockhart declared at that moment, his smile just a little strained, "you are late. I must say, I'm surprised. I'm afraid you've already missed a splendid beginning, which you will now have to hear about from your classmates. Let this be a reminder that every minute of my Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons is worth its weight in gold. Now, do sit down quickly."
Hermione muttered an apology, slipped into her seat beside Harry and Ron, and stared down at her textbook.
"Did I really miss anything important?" she asked quietly, without looking up.
Ron snorted.
"Just his usual self-obsessed rubbish."
He leaned in, lowering his voice.
"But you really were late. You're never late. Everything all right?"
Hermione gave a small wave of her hand, making it clear she would explain later. Harry shot her a questioning look as well, but at that moment Lockhart clapped his hands, pulling the class's attention back to himself.
On the board, a title was already written:
"How to Win a Duel with a Snow Giant: 12 Helpful Tips by Gilderoy Lockhart."
The letters shimmered with a soft golden glow. From the very first lesson, Lockhart had always brought his own enchanted chalk, carefully chosen to match whatever he was wearing that day. He stood beside the board, gleaming like a shop display, with the air of someone expecting applause simply for showing up.
"Well then, my dear friends, back to our lesson," he declared. "Today we shall discuss my truly heroic mission in the Alps, where I single-handedly defeated a monstrous snow giant that had been terrorising a poor mountain village. Yes, yes, all the details can be found in my latest book, Triumph in the Snowy Peaks: How I Saved a Village from Destruction. Hands up, those who have already read this outstanding work?"
He swept his gaze over the class, clearly expecting at least a few hands to go up. No one moved. Even Hermione, who was usually the first to raise her hand, sat still, staring at the desk as if she hadn't heard the question at all. Lockhart's brows drew together for a split second, but he immediately put his dazzling smile back on.
"Well then, that means you have a rare chance to hear this remarkable story first-hand," he announced.
A muffled groan went round the room, which Lockhart, of course, took for eager anticipation. Waving his arms, he launched straight into an enthusiastic account of how he had managed to 'talk down' the snow giant.
Harry, sitting beside Hermione, gave her a cautious nudge with his elbow.
"So what happened?" he whispered. "You even missed breakfast."
Hermione flicked a quick glance at Lockhart, who at that moment was demonstrating how he had dealt with the giant using his scarf, and whispered back:
"I was in McGonagall's office. Last night. Dumbledore was there. And Olivia."
She fell silent for a moment, checking no one was listening.
"Olivia confessed. It was her…"
"Her what?" Harry said, blinking in confusion.
"She was the one leaving the notes. And she brought the construct on Halloween —"
"What?" Ron turned so sharply that ink splattered from his quill across the desk.
"Keep it down," Hermione hissed, shooting a quick, uneasy glance at Lockhart. "And last night she cursed the mirror in our room."
As Hermione spoke, her friends' eyes widened more and more. It was obvious they cared far more about what had happened to her than about Lockhart's endless rambling about his own exploits.
"No way," Harry whispered when she finished. "I would never have thought it was her…"
"If I'd known, I'd have —" Ron began.
"It's not that simple, Ron," Hermione said, tired. "You don't understand. She was being blackmailed by the League of Light."
She quickly went over the threats she had heard in McGonagall's office.
"She was scared," Hermione added quietly. "They made her believe that if she spoke, her father would die. That's why she kept quiet."
"That sounds familiar," Harry said, looking at her with a faint hint of reproach.
Hermione knew at once what he meant. Herself, when she had found out about the Sky Vortex amulet and told no one, trying to deal with it on her own. She gave a small nod.
"The League of Light…" Harry went on, his voice darker now. "Those lunatics always find a way to make things worse. It's not enough for them to threaten you. They drag other people into it as well."
Hermione sighed and pressed her palm to her forehead.
"McGonagall was furious too. She said they'd decide later what to do about Olivia. But I… I don't know. She's not to blame, and at the same time she is. She actually did it. She cast the spell, even knowing who was behind it."
Harry clenched his jaw.
"The notes. The construct. The mirror," he said, not looking at her. "They're trying to scare you."
"Thanks, Harry, for pointing that out," Hermione said, a bitter edge in her voice. "As if I hadn't noticed."
At that moment, Lockhart caught sight of their animated conversation, his smile tightening slightly as he made his way over to their desk.
"Mr Potter, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger," he announced. "How delightful to see my stories stirring such lively interest that you simply can't resist discussing them. Perhaps you would care to share your thoughts with the rest of the class?"
Ron straightened, pretending he had been listening the whole time.
"Er… yes, sir. We were just discussing… er… how you caught the snow giant," he said, going bright red.
Lockhart immediately broke into his usual smile.
"Ah, that was a truly magnificent moment!" he exclaimed, instantly forgetting his annoyance. "Thank you, Mr Weasley, for drawing the class's attention to a key part of my account!"
While Lockhart launched back into an eager description of his 'feats', Harry leaned closer to Hermione and asked quietly:
"So what now? Do you have a plan?"
Hermione shook her head. She had no idea what to do next about the League of Light and their threats.
***
The news that Olivia had been allowed to stay at Hogwarts, even with strict punishment, had already spread through the entire school. The ban made no difference. By now, everyone knew what had happened in their dormitory. Olivia had been forbidden to leave the castle grounds, stripped of several privileges, and McGonagall had made it clear that one more offence would be her last.
The harsh measures against Olivia were little comfort to Hermione. She still felt a strange mix of pity and unease towards her former dorm-mate. And yet one thing was clear: she could no longer share a room with her.
The move turned out to be unexpectedly easy. McGonagall listened to her request and, after a short pause, agreed. A temporary room was found just as quickly. There was a spare bed in Ginny's first-year dormitory.
Once she had permission, Hermione started moving her things straight away. Lila was a little upset to hear she was leaving, but Nora's reaction was exactly what you would expect. She could barely hide how pleased she was.
"Well, Olivia just did something stupid," she told anyone who would listen. "It happens. But Hermione… that's different. A know-it-all who can't stand anyone getting in her way. You can't even say a word around her. She always has to be studying."
Hermione chose not to react. She gathered the rest of her things and, without looking back at Nora, headed for her new room.
Ginny sat quietly on her bed, wrapped in a blanket. She looked up when Hermione came in and tried to smile, but it didn't quite work. Her eyes were red, and there were still tear tracks on her cheeks.
The room was bright and homely. Simple but cheerful posters of witches playing Quidditch hung on the walls, and on the bedside table by Ginny's bed were photos of the Weasley family. The spare bed by the window, now Hermione's until the end of the school year, looked out over the Hogwarts grounds, just starting to turn green.
Hermione set her bundle down on the bed and turned back. Ginny was still sitting there, hugging her knees, not looking up.
"Are you all right?" Hermione asked carefully.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Ginny said quickly, but her voice was too weak to sound convincing. She turned away at once, pretending to study the edge of her blanket.
Hermione frowned but didn't push. Ginny wasn't the sort to open up easily.
The next day, Hermione sat at lunch with Harry and Ron, absently picking at her chicken pie with her fork. Voices buzzed around her, students chatting at the neighbouring tables, but she barely noticed, lost in her own thoughts.
"So how's the new room?" Harry asked, looking at her over his glass of pumpkin juice.
"It's fine," Hermione said with a small shrug. "Ginny's nice, but…" She hesitated and shot a quick glance at Ron. "…she's a bit off. Her eyes are always red, like she's been crying."
Ron, who had already eaten half his pie, frowned.
"Again?" he muttered. "I thought she was better once the attacks stopped."
Harry looked up as well, pausing mid-bite.
"What do you mean?" he asked, watching Ron closely.
"Well… when all that started, with the Chamber of Secrets," Ron said. "She barely spoke to anyone and was always on edge. I tried to get her to talk, but she just kept muttering about a monster. She was really scared back then. But once the attacks stopped, she seemed to go back to normal."
He shook his head.
"And now something's off again. That's strange. There haven't been any attacks for months."
Ron pushed his empty plate aside and reached for another slice of pie.
"You know, I saw her near our room yesterday," he added.
Hermione's eyebrows shot up.
"Outside your room? What was she doing there?"
"She was just standing by the door, that's all," Ron went on, looking at them. "I thought she wanted to talk to me. You know when someone looks like they want to say something but just can't bring themselves to speak? That's exactly how she looked."
Hermione frowned.
"And did she come in?"
"No." Ron shook his head. "I called out, 'Ginny, what are you doing here?' And she jumped, like I'd scared her, and just ran off. Didn't say a word."
He broke off a piece of pie with his fork but didn't bring it to his mouth. Instead, he looked from Harry to Hermione, as if hoping one of them would explain what it all meant.
"I thought maybe she had something important to say," he muttered, as if trying to make sense of it himself. "But she just… ran."
Hermione thought again of Ginny's red eyes, her tired look, her tense, jerky movements.
"Did she ever tell you anything? Before?" Hermione asked. "Maybe someone scared her?"
Ron shrugged.
"She doesn't talk. You know Ginny… she's a closed book. You won't get anything out of her."
Hermione took a sip of milk, staring down at the table.
"I'll try talking to her," she said. "Maybe she'll open up to me now that we're sharing a room. But…" She hesitated, then added with a faint, guilty smile, "to be honest, crying girls make me suspicious now."
Ron froze for a second, then, catching the hint, burst out laughing.
"You mean Olivia?" he said, nearly choking on his pie. "Right, so now every crying girl is an agent of the League of Light!"
"Makes sense," Harry said with a snort. "If someone starts slipping you threatening notes again, we'll know who to blame."
"Exactly! Case closed!" Ron declared.
"Very funny," Hermione scoffed, though the corners of her mouth still twitched.
Harry and Ron kept laughing, while Hermione drifted back into her thoughts. Ginny's state wouldn't leave her mind. Something was clearly wrong with her. Maybe it was just the after-effects of the fear from the Chamber of Secrets… or maybe something else.
'Or maybe I'm just getting properly paranoid,' she thought.