Chapter 5: Read the MapChapter Text
The next morning is cloudy. White and still.
It feels like the inside of Hermione's head. A heavy white fog, that just won't leave. All throughout breakfast. Herbology. Even the blast-ended skrewts can't seem to shake her from it.
'Moody' is nowhere to be seen, which should be a relief.
It isn't. Leaves Hermione so on edge that eventually she just gives in to the feeling. Gives up trying to be on the lookout. Leaves the Map in her pocket, eyes heavy from squinting at the blurred jumble of overlapping names.
She knows she needs to snap out of it. Can see Harry and Ron's concerned looks. Managed to offer them a few smiles every now and then before she headed off to arithmancy without them.
But she just can't…face this. Another night of no sleep. Too many thoughts in her head. Except this time, they seem to have become stuck. Melded into a thick toffee, pulling her mind apart and holding it together.
She's in the past. But she's not.
And Bellatrix is here. Here. In the castle.
Hermione just can't deal with this. Can't face this. Not yet. It's too much. Deliberately spending time with Bellatrix? Or sending Harry and Ron off to talk to her? As much as it could work, she's not ready for that. To take that first step.
"…and Padfoot hasn't got back to me yet, but when he does, I reckon we could tell him about—"
And that finally seeps through into Hermione's mind. Harry can't tell Sirius about Bellatrix! Or talk about Padfoot with Bellatrix around! She might know his nickname!
Hermione jogs the last few steps to meet Harry and Ron at the top of the Entrance Hall staircase, shifting a few books in her arms and helping Ron as he almost drops a star chart. "Ssh!" she hisses, looking around. "It's not a brilliant idea to talk about that dog right now, Harry. He's quite a memorable breed. Purebred, remember?"
It takes him a second to catch on, but then his eyes widen and he looks around too. "Right. Yeah. Forgot about…umm, how was arithmancy?"
She nods quickly at the subject change. "Quite interesting. And Professor Kettleburn didn't give us any homework, so—"
"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!"
They stop outside the Great Hall and turn…
Malfoy?
Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle. All looking thoroughly pleased with themselves.
And holding a copy of The Prophet. Oh.
"Your Dad's in the paper again, Weasley," Draco announces cockily, holding up the paper for all to see. "Listen to this! They even got his name wrong."
And he begins reading out Skeeter's article, 'Arnold' Weasley going to investigate when Mad-Eye raised the alarm about an intruder in his house. A false alarm.
False.
Not so false.
What is Malfoy up to?
He continues reading, flourishing the paper and smirking at the gathering crowd.
And glares daggers at Ron. And Harry.
Pokes a finger at a picture of Mrs Weasley. "And there's a picture, Weasley! Of your parents outside their house. If you can call it a house, more like a hovel. Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"
Ron narrows his eyes at Draco. Holding back, but shaking with pent up rage as a few bursts of laughter come from the students waiting to get into the Great Hall for lunch.
"Get stuffed, Malfoy," Harry says. "C'mon, Ron…"
"You've been there! Haven't you, Potter!" Malfoy spits, strangely angry too now. "So tell me. Is his mother really that porky? Or is it just the picture?"
"Well what about your mother, Malfoy?" Harry taunts back, eyebrows raised. "Does she always have that expression on her face? Like she's got dung under her nose? Or was that just because she was sat next to you at the World Cup?"
Draco's cheeks flush with fury. His eyes dart over the crowd and down the surrounding corridors. "Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter!"
And Harry already seems to be regretting his own temper. Deflates, snapping his mouth shut almost ashamedly. Sighs.
Grabs hold of Ron's robes to tug him towards the Great Hall. "Then try not to be such a prat, and keep that big mouth shut," Harry says quietly, turning around—
Draco draws his wand, a hex shooting out with a bang, white light firing right at the back of Harry's head—
It misses as Harry turns. But only just.
The same as last time. So this is going to happen again.
Hermione's hand comes up to cover her mouth, to mask her shock. Or a smile, she's not sure what expression she's pulling. "Ferret," she can't help but whisper.
"Wha—" Ron says from her side, baffled. But he's cut off as another bang of wandfire sounds, this time from behind them.
"Oh no you don't, laddie!" comes a shout from the top of the main staircase.
Bellatrix shouts. It might look like Mad-Eye, but the wizard posed dramatically and making everyone scream in surprise is all Bellatrix.
Of course it's her. Hermione never should have questioned it.
And where Draco had been…there's a pure white ferret, cowering on the stone floor and squeaking.
Bellatrix comes down the stairs. Turns to look at Harry carefully, eye scanning over him. Other eye looking though the back of her head. "Did he get you?" she asks lowly.
"Uh— no. Missed," Harry stutters out.
"Leave it!" Bellatrix suddenly shouts, making Harry and a few others jump.
"Leave— what?" Harry says, bewildered.
"Not you, him," Bellatrix growls, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at Crabbe, who freezes, about to pick up the ferret.
And she turns. Begins limping over towards the three Slytherins.
Draco's squeaks turn into a high-pitched frenzy, and he takes off, a white blur streaking towards the dungeons—
"I don't think so!" Bellatrix roars, firing off a spell quicker than Hermione can blink and sending the ferret flying ten feet in the air, falling with a smack on the floor and then rising once more.
And again. And again.
Hermione looks around desperately for Professor McGonagall. She should be here. Why isn't she—
Draco lets out another terrified squeak, and Hermione can't help it.
Steps forward, raising a protego and shielding the bouncing ferret behind her. "Stop! This— this isn't how punishments work here!" she shouts.
Bellatrix's wand doesn't lower. It rises. She aims over Hermione's head.
"He should know better than to attack when his opponent's back is turned!" Bellatrix growls, moving her wand side to side as Draco whimpers, smacking into the walls. "Stinking, cowardly thing to do."
Really?! Ethics is her argument? Teaching him a lesson about…manners?!
"Never— do— that— again!" Bellatrix punctuates, still managing to send Draco thudding against stone.
Enough!
Hermione steps forward, shield raised higher and staring Bellatrix down. "Transfiguration isn't a punishment! Never! A professor should know that. Or was it different when you were at school?"
For a second, a flash of anger appears on Moody's scarred face, making Hermione flinch and pour more concentration into her shield charm.
But then Bellatrix's wand pauses. Lowers. "Oh, I have a feeling I've got very different experiences of teaching than you do," Bellatrix mutters. "Miss…?"
Hermione holds her head high. Keeps her breathing as even as possible, and cancels her protego. "Granger. Hermione Granger."
Bellatrix looks her up and down. Nods. "Granger. What would you suggest I do then, Granger? Give him detention? Is that enough of a lesson, do you think?"
Hermione looks behind her at the crumpled ferret. "Yes. You should change him back. And you could always talk to his Head of House if there are any issues that need to be resolved. That's how everyone deserves to be treated. Talking calmly. Violence isn't the answer."
She doesn't turn back. It's too intense. Just knowing that it's Bellatrix Lestrange in Moody's skin.
Bellatrix Black. That's what the map said. Says. It's still in Hermione's pocket.
And she watches as the ferret suddenly transforms. A boy once more. Pale and wincing as he gets to his feet, but otherwise unharmed. Thank Merlin for that.
"I'll do that then," Bellatrix says coldly. Or hotly. The heat of it making Hermione turn to glance at the witch. Just quickly, before looking away again, back at Draco. The magical eye has always made her uncomfortable, no matter whose head it's in.
Draco avoids everyone's gaze, reddening with shame and muttering to himself. Something about his father.
"Oh yeah?" Bellatrix says quietly, limping forwards a few steps, past Hermione and reaching Draco. "Well I've known your father for a lot longer than you, boy. You tell him Moody's keeping a good eye on his son. You tell him that from me," she whispers.
Draco grits his teeth, but steps back. Looks around for Crabbe and Goyle.
"Now," Bellatrix continues. "Your Head of House is Snape, is it?"
"Yes," Malfoy says, clearly bitter.
Bellatrix grins sharply. "Another old friend. I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape. And seeing as it's the school rules according to Granger over there…"
She turns and looks at Hermione, still grinning. "…I'd better do as she says. Come on, Malfoy."
And she seizes Draco's upper arm, marching him away towards the dungeons.
Hermione watches them go anxiously. Let's the chattering mass drift past her and into the Great Hall.
Harry comes to stand next to her. "So...That's…"
He drifts off.
"Yeah," Hermione answers hoarsely. Her mouth is oddly dry. She loosens her grip around her wand. Shakes her hand out. Cramp from holding it too hard.
Harry takes a slow breath. "When is it we next have DADA?"
Ron reaches into his bag, rummaging around before remembering an accio and pulling out a crumpled piece of parchment. "Uhh…Thursday."
Harry just nods silently, still staring towards the dungeons.
"Think he'll be alright? Malfoy?" Ron asks.
Hermione reaches into her pocket. Pulls out the Marauders' Map and taps it, whispering the password.
Searches out the dungeons…
Two little dots. Draco Malfoy, and Bellatrix Black, moving swiftly down a corridor towards…Snape's office.
Hmm.
"They're going to Snape," Hermione murmurs. "So he should be fine…"
She keeps her eyes locked to the names as she drifts towards the Hall, stomach rumbling and twisting—
Bumps into someone. "Oh! Sorry, I didn't see you— Ginny!"
Ginny glares at her. Picks up some pieces of parchment, playing cards, and a few sickles that she's dropped, and then brushes past Hermione. "Figures. Guess I'm invisible to you too now, now that you've got your real friends back and don't have to hang out with me anymore."
What? No!
Hermione slides the map into her pocket and turns around. "Ginny, wait! It's not— Can I please talk to—"
Ginny disappears into the crowd without a backward glance. Argh!
Hermione pulls the map back out. "I'll go after her. Can you spot her? She should be around…"
Outside. Heading across the grounds towards the lake.
Hermione looks up at the enchanted ceiling. Cloudy ceiling. Rain clouds.
Well, if Ginny is so stubborn that she's going to run off in the rain rather than talk to Hermione, then she really is too immature and needs to get over herself.
"Teenagers," Hermione huffs to herself. Turns around and marches towards an empty spot at the table near Lee Jordan and the twins. She's hungry. And she has enough to think about. Ginny knows that. They can talk later. Calmly. In the Common Room. Not out in the pouring rain.
She grabs the pot of beef casserole and doles out three bowls for her, Harry, and Ron, angrily.
Harry and Ron sit down opposite her and share a look.
She ignores them. So what if she has a temper? She has a lot to think about. A lot. Dark witches wandering around the castle. A witch who now knows her name, and was grinning at her for some reason.
And did as she was told. Why did she do that?
Why did Hermione do that? She'd never talk to a real professor like that. That was so suspicious. Everyone must be talking about what just happened.
That just happened. She just spoke to Bellatrix.
She slides the map back out of her pocket. Looks for the little dot.
Bellatrix Black. Still in the dungeons. Alone now.
She traces her finger over the name. Tries to let it sink in, her mind not really grasping it. Unable to put the two…completely opposing images together. It just feels…wrong! Having a sadistic murderer like her around, but in the wrong body. It's too surreal. She wants to see Bellatrix. Face her properly. Then it would feel right. Not this weird Moody-hybrid.
She can't read her like this. Can't understand her motivations. Can't see her.
She has to see her. Has to catch her out without the polyjuice. It's the only way. She needs to be exposed.
Ow! Hot!
She reaches for a jug of water, tongue burning from where she'd been shovelling her casserole into her mouth too quickly.
Harry sniggers at her. "Done with your teenage sulking?"
Hermione takes a few gulps of water and then sticks her tongue out at him. It's immature. But she guesses being back here is kind of rubbing off on her.
Ron isn't laughing though. Is frowning down at the Prophet. At the picture of his parents outside the Burrow. They wave at him, smiling.
Hermione puts her spoon down with a sigh. "You know, what Malfoy said—"
He bats his hand at her dismissively. Folds the paper in half and turns it over, pointing out something else.
Hermione and Harry lean in to read it.
Mystery Millionaire Funds New Research for Magical Maladies Ward at St Mungo's
Oh.
Hermione scans the rest of the article.
Anonymous donation…research into mind magic and mental trauma…famous patients…
Oh no.
Gilderoy Lockhart - still doesn't know who he is.
Narcissa Malfoy - attacked at the World Cup, and in the process of having her memories restored whilst recuperating at home...
And Frank and Alice Longbottom. Long-term patients, who haven't left the ward since an almost lethally strong cruciatus curse was used against them by Death Eaters Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, and Barty Crouch Junior.
Hermione's head jerks up. She looks down along the table, searching out….
Neville. Staring into his casserole. His head coming up to meet her eye.
She smiles at him.
He ducks his head back down.
Doesn't look back up.
"Bellatrix…tortured Neville's parents?" Harry whispers croakily, reading the whole article.
Hermione turns to look at him. At Ron. Feels her heart sink at their shock and…betrayal, as they see her expression.
"You already knew," Ron says.
Hermione fiddles with her spoon. Looks at the table. Nods. "I knew. But…Neville isn't ready for people to know yet. It wasn't my place to—"
"Give me the map," Harry says firmly.
Hermione frowns. "But—"
"Now. Let me see where she is. Draco is— We should tell Dumbledore. This isn't safe. We should show him the map, and—"
Hermione was about to hand it to him, but swiftly pulls it back. "We can't!" she hisses. "Do you really think Dumbledore, or any of the professors, will give it back to you once they see this? You need to keep it. Trust me. For next year and— the information on it is lifesaving."
They use it next year to outsmart Umbridge and Filch. And the year after when the Death Eaters enter the Astronomy tower. Ginny uses it all throughout the War against the Carrows and Snape. They can't give it to—
Harry holds his hand out. "You don't know that. Not this time. Not for sure. And I don't care. We have proof. Let's go. Now. Before someone else gets hurt."
Hermione hesitates…
Harry snatches the map from her and walks off.
She clambers out of the bench, swinging her bag over her shoulder and hurrying after him. Great. Fantastic.
Dumbledore peers over his half-moon spectacles at them. Then looks back down at the map. "Ingenious. Now this is quite a clever little thing. I myself did not even know there was a twelfth floor, let alone thirteen. Quite the architectural feat, wouldn't you say? Highly intriguing. Sherbet lemon, Mr Weasley?"
He holds the bowl out to Ron, who raises an eyebrow but takes one anyway. "Uh, cheers. But what we really wanted to show you was—"
"Bellatrix Black," Harry interrupts. "She's alive. And in the castle. We saw her name in the Prophet, and we saw her on the map today. The map doesn't lie, Headmaster. Professor Lupin told me. Bellatrix is in disguise as Mad-Eye Moody!"
Dumbledore smiles softly. "Professor Moody, Harry. And I am sure you are quite correct that this map is tremendously accurate. But as you can see…Alastor is at this very moment within his office. And I'm afraid as lovely as it would be to be reunited with dear Bellatrix, she does not appear to be on here."
What?!
Hermione, Ron, and Harry all get to their feet, heads crowded over the map. Impossible…
She finds the DADA classroom…
Alastor Moody. In the office.
No Bellatrix.
But—
She searches the dungeons. The staff room. The grounds.
A huff echoes from above them. "Yet another self-righteous Gryffindor making accusations against a Black. We don't need a map to know where Bellatrix is. Buried with the rest of them outside Azkaban, poor girl," Phineas Nigellus Black calls down.
Harry shakes his head. Searches the map once more and then looks up at Dumbledore. "Please, Sir. Could you just check? What if the real Professor Moody is…being held hostage in his office? We saw Bellatrix. Last night. And today. She took Draco to Snape, we saw it!"
Dumbledore frowns. "And as I said, Harry. I do want to believe you. I really do. And if it will reassure you, I will check. If you are certain. These are some serious accusations, and Alastor may not take very kindly to being called one of Voldemort's followers. Especially one he had a hand in capturing. One who, as Phineas rightly points out, died many years ago."
"So did Peter Pettigrew," Harry says firmly, frustration edging into his voice. "But he's still alive. And Sirius escaped too, so why not Bellatrix? His cousin?"
Dumbledore steeples his fingers. "Ah. So you have discovered that connection also. But remember, Harry, it is our choices that shape us far more than our blood. The friends we make. The family we choose. Bellatrix's relation to Sirius, and so to you, does not make you any more connected to her misdeeds."
Harry glances at Hermione and Ron, sharing their disbelief at this strange misinterpretation. "I know," Harry grits out. "But Sir, if we go to the DADA classroom just to check…"
Dumbledore gets to his feet with a sigh. "Alright then, Harry my boy. Perhaps your young eyes are keener than mine. Let's go pay Alastor a visit, shall we?"
And with another smile, he strides off to the spiral stairway, stepping on with a nod to the statue, and already moving downward.
Harry runs after him, and Ron gives her a sheepish look before doing the same.
Hermione stays standing beside the desk, conflicted. As usual.
"What are you doing, girl?" Phineas Nigellus shouts down at her, making her jump. "Get out of here. Go on. And take that useless map with you. I don't know what Orion was doing naming his idiotic eldest after my brother. Not an ounce of intelligence in that one. Can't even make a map that works."
Oh. Dumbledore left the map behind.
Hermione picks it up. "It does work," she mutters. "Bellatrix is just…hiding, somehow."
Alastor Moody is still in his office. But that could be him inside the trunk. Maybe Bellatrix just…left. Went out to lunch. Professors don't have to stay on the school grounds…
So as she thought. Bellatrix has outsmarted them already. They went to Dumbledore too soon. She told Harry they needed to wait.
She watches Harry, Ron, and Dumbledore's names stop on the changing staircase as they make their way over to the other side of the castle.
Maybe there's still a chance. Maybe they'll get there in time. Open the trunk, with Dumbledore's help, and find the real Moody. Then Bellatrix won't be able to come back. Her plan won't work. The tournament— oh!
She looks around. Surely the goblet is being kept in here! Maybe she could…ward Harry's name out or something. Just in case.
Is that possible? Could she—
"What are you still doing here?" A portrait shouts. "This isn't a common room, young lady."
"Off with you! Go on, now," another shouts.
She makes her way towards the stairs and steps on, reluctantly spinning down toward the entrance.
Okay. Fine. Too many witnesses. But maybe she should stop by the library and find out how the age line works. And how Crouch got Harry's name in there last time. If Bellatrix is going to do it, then Hermione might be able to think up a counter-spell of some kind.
She walks down the corridor, considering it. Runes, perhaps? Or arithmancy. Numbers are involved, after all. And probability.
What are they using to assign qualities of worthiness for the tournament? Is it bravery? Resistance? Willpower? Intelligence?
Could she adjust it, so Harry isn't worthy?
She taps her finger on the stone banister as the staircase moves, ready to take her across the castle towards the Common Room, where she can take the hidden shortcut down to the second floor and classroom 3C. The DADA classroom.
The staircase judders to a stop. She makes her way down and gets off, reaching into her pocket. Maybe she should check the map again and see if Harry's there—
"Constant vigilance!"
Hermione leaps a foot in the air, clutching the map to her chest, head jerking up and fumbling for her wand—
Mad-Eye is stood in front of her. Grinning at her, magical eye spinning wildly.
"See you've still got a lot to learn, Granger. These are violent times, as much as you try to deny it. You've got to keep your wits about you."
Hermione tries to calm her pattering heart. Fails. "Where did you come from?" she accidentally gasps out, still in shock but at least with enough sense to slide the map—
Bellatrix grabs her wrist, trapping it. "As I said. You should have been paying attention. What've you got there, girl?"
Oh no.
Hermione shrugs casually. Tries to act…young. "It's from Zonko's joke shop. I caught my friend Ron with it. It's not very nice. Makes fun of people. He got a lot of mischief managed," she says as calmly as she can. Taps her wand to it. As if gesturing. Please work.
Bellatrix looks down at the parchment. Magical eye no longer spinning. Both eyes focused. "Really? A joke? Looked more like a map of the castle to me. Extremely dangerous in the wrong hands. Give it here, Granger."
Hermione doesn't let go. Tries to pull her hand free. "Dangerous? No. It's just a silly toy. It isn't worth—"
"Then you'll let me look at it," Bellatrix growls. Squeezes Hermione's wrist so tightly she jerks her fist open on instinct, wanting to get away.
Bellatrix smirks triumphantly and holds up the thankfully now blank piece of paper.
Smirks. Seriously smirks, chin raised. Nothing like Moody.
She's slipping up. Harry was right. If they spend enough time around her, they could catch her out.
Bellatrix's eyes narrow. She takes out her wand. Moody's wand. Hovers it over the parchment. "Specialis revelio," she mutters.
Oh no…
Words are appearing.
Hermione swallows. "As I said. Joke parchment. Always says something horrible, no matter what you—"
"Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs…" Bellatrix reads aloud. Then abruptly stops. Frowns at the parchment as words continue to appear.
Hermione leans to look—
Bellatrix smacks her in the nose with it, lifting it out of Hermione's reach, folding it up, and then shoving it into her robes. "As I thought. Extremely suspicious magical item. I'll be confiscating this, Miss Granger. And ten points from Gryffindor for not handing it in sooner."
No! She can't—
Hermione rubs at her face. "But I— will you give it back? If it's not dangerous?"
Bellatrix is already striding off, wooden leg tapping on the floor and taking out her hip flask. "I'll make it twenty points if you're not careful! Now get going. Don't you have arithmancy to get to?"
Hermione opens her mouth. No more words come out. She just watches Bellatrix turn the corner out of sight.
She does have arithmancy next. Double arithmancy on Monday afternoons.
…was that just a lucky guess? Ah!
She draws her wand as someone taps her shoulder—
Shoves Harry in the chest. "Don't do that! I'm going to have a heart attack at this rate!"
Then remembers where Harry and Ron have been. "So? Was Moody—"
Harry shakes his head. "He wasn't there. We checked all of the tanks and cupboards and trunks. Dumbledore did this spell. Homenum revelio. Nothing. Just a load of protection wards and sneakascopes that went crazy. Ron stayed to help Dumbledore shut them up and get these weird creatures back in this crate that— anyway. No Moody."
Hermione smiles sadly. "Sorry. I did try to warn you. It's never as easy as that."
Ron comes up behind him, shoving a handful of sherbet lemons into his mouth. "Should've figured. Our luck always sucks," he mumbles around them, almost spitting one out. "Where've you bin? Did ya remember the map?"
Hermione cringes. "So…more bad news. I did have the map. Until about a minute ago. I ran into…her. She saw it. Confiscated it."
"What?!" Ron shouts, sending sweets pinging across the corridor.
Hermione vanishes them, crinkling her nose. Disgusting.
"She was here?" Harry says, looking around.
Hermione nods. "You just missed her. I tried to stop her, but she's a professor. There wasn't much I could do. She took points."
Harry's mouth falls open. "Points? Hermione, who cares about points! Now—"
He edges closer to whisper frantically. "Now a Death Eater has a map to the whole school! Knows exactly where everyone is, where we are, at all times!"
Hermione groans. "I know. I know, I fucked up. I'm sorry. But…if it helps, I don't think she knows the password to get it working?"
She tries to plead for forgiveness with just her eyes. But knows she would be so mad too if Harry had lost the map. She was. She'd been angry thinking Dumbledore would have it, let alone Bellatrix.
Harry just stares at her, an odd expression on his face.
Steps back. Looks at Ron and then slowly begins to smile. "You just swore. Hermione Granger just swore."
Hermione sighs in relief.
And rolls her eyes. Boys.
She hooks her arms through theirs and walks them off down the corridor. "I'm an adult. I'm allowed. Now we'd better get going. We'll be late for afternoon classes, and you both have to make it all the way up to the divination classroom."
They trudge along the corridor in silence for a while. Harry holds up the tapestry for them to duck under and take the shortcut, jumping the disappearing step.
And they still don't say anything. Just walk.
Hermione glances at them. Sighs. "I'm sorry. For not telling you about what she did to the Longbottoms. I should have. I just…it's so horrible. And Neville really won't want people knowing about this," she whispers.
Ron shrugs. "You told us she was bad. Like, really bad news. And fought in the War. Don't worry about it. And it makes it…kind of impressive that you keep standing up to her. Talking to her. It freaks me out, to be honest. Dunno what I'm gonna to do if she asks me a question in class. Proper scary, she is."
Harry considers this. "I think for nerves you're supposed to picture people in their underwear, right?"
Hermione trips down a couple of steps, her brain helpfully supplying an image of Bellatrix in just her underwear. Pale skin and dark curls falling over her shoulders. Standing in the middle of the classroom and walking towards Hermione—
"Ew! Gross! Mad-Eye in his underwear? What are you on about, Harry!" Ron shouts for all to hear.
Everyone. The corridors are full of students, all waiting to get into class. And staring at a rapidly reddening Harry.
Ron clears his throat. "Sorry, mate. That sounded— it's not like it sounded!" Ron tries to correct. "It wasn't— oh forget it."
Harry sighs. "Yeah, maybe that wasn't great advice. Anyway. We'd better hurry before Trelawney tells everyone I've died or something. We'll see you at dinner, Hermione. Yeah?"
Hermione takes a sharp breath, still rather confused at where her thoughts were going. "Yes. Maybe. Actually, I might go to the library after class. To read up on the tournament and…plan some things. So I guess I'll see you in the Common Room tonight."
Ron snorts, heading off. "Library. Of course. Never change, Hermione."
Hermione smiles. Waves goodbye to Harry— oh! "And if you run into Ginny, try to talk to her! This is ridiculous! We need to sort it out!"
Harry gives her a thumbs up. Turns around and jogs to catch up with Ron.
Hermione adjusts her bag on her shoulder. Okay. Back to class. Fifteen years old. Arithmancy.
Chapter 6: Watch and LearnChapter Text
It doesn't take long for the gossip about Neville's parents to spread over the next few days, and every time Hermione, Harry, or Ron try to talk to him about it he closes up. Walks away. Stumbles down a flight of stairs or mutters about needing to get to the greenhouses or the Great Hall.
He melts his cauldron clean through in potions class. For the sixth time. Snape, of course, is livid, instantly giving him detention for the next week. On Wednesday, Neville comes back trembling and talking about disembowelling a barrel of toads.
Trevor isn't anywhere to be found. Hermione really, really hopes it's a coincidence.
"You've noticed why Snape's in such a bad mood, right?" Harry whispers to her as she finishes teaching Neville a scouring charm to get the guts out from under his fingernails.
She nods tiredly, moving over to sit by the fire. "Moody," she says quietly.
Ron sits next to her on the rug, nodding too. "So you noticed. Twitchy, isn't he? Avoids her— him. Always avoiding eye contact too."
"I reckon he's scared," Harry whispers. "But…I don't know if he's scared of Moody, or of…could he somehow know something?"
Hermione looks around the crowded common room. Pulls out a book and clears her throat. "Some wizards and witches have learnt a kind of magic called legilimency. Mind magic. It's like…mindreading, but a lot more complicated. The— the most accomplished legilimens can look into someone's mind just by making eye contact. Can see thoughts. Memories."
She looks back up. Cringes at the panic on their faces.
"So you think…" Harry says quietly. "Can she do it?"
Hermione bites her lip. "I…don't think so. But it's possible. She knows how to block her mind. Block legilimency. She taught…umm…her nephew. When he was sixteen. But someone who definitely knows about legilimency, at least with a wand…is Snape."
Ron's hand come up to cover his forehead, turning deathly pale. "Snape can read minds?" he croaks out. "Why didn't you tell us? I've thought…oh no! Oh bloody hell, I've thought so many things in front of him."
Hermione snorts. "I'm sure he's not interested in what's going on in your head. And I think he probably needs a wand to perform it. But I'll find a book on occlumency if you really want to protect your mind. It might be a good idea."
Harry lies down on his back on the floor and groans. "That's the last thing we need. Mind magic. What's next? What's the next surprise going to be? Because I can't take many more of these, Hermione."
She pats his leg sympathetically.
Doesn't really have an answer to that.
The portrait hole suddenly swings open. Ginny steps through.
Sees them by the fire.
Hermione raises a hand. Moves to get up and—
Ginny climbs straight back out again, the hole closing behind her.
Hermione's hand falls back down to her side, heart sinking.
What did she do?
Hermione skids to a stop outside classroom 3C, searching out Ron and Harry in the line— there! Right at the front.
She hurries up to them. "Been in the—"
"Library," Harry finishes for her. "C'mon, quick, or we won't get decent seats."
He moves to go in, but she stops him. "Are you sure you want to be at the front? Seeing as she might be showing us…the spells I told you about?"
The unforgivable curses. She'd warned them in advance. Had wanted to warn Neville too, but couldn't figure out how.
Harry reflexively rubs his forehead, briefly glancing at the floor. "I'm fine. Better us at the front than anyone else," he mutters.
And he's already through the door after Ron, the three of them taking the seats right in front of the teacher's desk and pulling out their copies of The Dark Forces: a guide of self-protection. It's painfully ironic.
The room is unusually quiet as they wait. None of the usual chatter, even from Seamus or Lavender, who can never keep their mouths shut for long.
Soon the familiar clunk of a wooden leg on stone reaches their ears from down the corridor. Hermione takes a slow breath. Rubs her sweaty palms on her robes and checks her wand is still in her sleeve.
"You can put those away," comes Moody's gruff voice from behind them, before Bellatrix stumps around and falls into the seat at the desk, right across from them. "Those books. You won't be needing them."
They put their books back in their bags, Harry meeting Hermione's eye. So it will be like she thought.
Bellatrix begins calling the register, leaning back in her seat. Her real eye scans down the list as she reads out each name, the magical eye studying each person. One by one.
Hermione is quite proud of how steadily she manages to answer, unlike the squeak Ron produces.
"Right then," Bellatrix says, putting the register away. "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had quite a thorough grounding with dark creatures. Boggarts, red caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, kappas, and werewolves. That right?"
There's a general murmur of agreement.
"But," Bellatrix sighs. "You're behind, very behind, on dealing with curses. So. Guess it's up to me to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you Dark—"
"You're only here for one year, then?" Ron blurts out. Then winces. Maybe Harry kicked him.
The magical eye spins to stare at Ron, who gulps apprehensively, leaning back on his stool.
Bellatrix smiles wickedly. It looks very strange on Moody's face. "You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, hmm?" she asks. Doesn't wait for a reply. "Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago…"
She pauses. Seems to drift into memory. Ron gives Hermione a distressed look.
The magical eye moves to Hermione, and Bellatrix continues. "Yeah. I'm here for the year. Special favour for Dumbledore, and then I'm back to my…nice quiet retirement."
Hermione holds backs scoff. Yeah right. More like back to terrorism and—
And Bellatrix barks out a harsh laugh, apparently amused by her own inside joke. Claps her hands together. "So! Straight into it. Curses. Where to start?"
She gets to her feet. Walks over to a blackboard. "They come in all sorts of shapes and forms. Can even create your own, if you're clever enough. Which you're not. So forget that right now."
She begins writing things down, handwriting sharp and scribbled.
Different. This is different.
Hermione reaches back into her bag for her quill and parchment—
"Granger!" Bellatrix barks. "No writing. Watching only. Or should I deduct more points from Gryffindor for your rule breaking?"
Hermione puts her bag back down, feeling her face heat up as whispering fills the room, people in shock at Hermione Granger losing points.
Bellatrix just continues scribbling away.
Then steps back. Admires her handiwork. It's…
A venn diagram. With lopsided shapes instead of circles, and different spell names scattered everywhere. What?
"Potter!" Bellatrix barks. "Name a curse. Any curse."
Harry runs a hand through his hair self-consciously, pushing it down over his scar and glancing behind him at Neville. "Uhh…petrificus totalus?"
Bellatrix turns to face him. Snorts. "Alright. Not what I was expecting, but that'll do."
She writes it down on the board, inside one of the misshapen bubbles. "And how did you know it was a curse? Not a hex or a jinx?"
Harry frowns. Looks at Ron, shrugs, and then mumbles something.
"What was that, Potter? Come on, speak up, lad. You've got a voice. Use it."
"I don't know," Harry snaps. "It's just what it's called. The body bind curse."
Bellatrix spins around. Raises her wand. "Well you should know. It's in the first-year textbook. You've been in the magical world for four years now. Surely you've noticed that words have meaning? Power? Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One. The Saviour."
Harry just continues to glare at her.
Bellatrix's wand flicks in their direction. "Petrificus totalus—"
"Protego!" Hermione calls out, wand already in her hand—
Too late. And protecting the wrong person. The curse smacks Ron in the face, his arms snapping to his sides as he falls backwards off his stool and thuds onto the floor.
Lavender lets out a shriek of surprise and the class begins to chatter—
"Silence!" Bellatrix roars.
The room falls still.
Bellatrix walks over to Ron. Nudges him with her wooden foot. "Miss Brown. Seeing as you've got such a gob on you, you can tell me what counter-curse to use to wake him up."
Lavender sniffs. Leans forward in her seat to look down at Ron. "Re— rennervate?"
No. That's for stupefy. He's not asleep. He's frozen.
But Bellatrix just nods. "Possible. Not the most common approach, or the one in the textbook, but possible all the same."
What? No it isn't! It's completely the wrong spell!
Bellatrix raises her wand once more. Points it at Ron. "Totus corpus rennerva!"
And Ron's body slumps back onto the ground. He blinks. Takes a few breaths.
Sits up and rubs at the back of his head. "What— Bloody hell! Ow! My head—"
Bellatrix reaches down, grabs his shoulder, and pulls him to his feet. "Stop complaining. Sit back down. You're fine. Now."
She walks over to the board. "That was an example of how words work. You pick the ones you want. And you use them. Can't believe I'm teaching fourteen-year-olds rather than four-year-olds such basic crap, but there we go. Someone tell me why that just worked, and why it isn't in your textbook. Mr Thomas. How about you? You figured out this world faster than Potter?"
Dean hesitates. Points at himself, surprised to be called on.
Bellatrix doesn't even turn around. "Yes. You. Or is there another muggleborn Dean Thomas in the room?"
Dean shifts uncomfortably. "You…used a word for body. Like…corporal means body. And you said totus. Like total. So…you told his whole body to wake up. And it worked. So…I don't really know why it wasn't in the textbook, sorry Professor."
Bellatrix hums. "Correct. Partly. Five points to Gryffindor."
She draws another line on the board. Hermione has given up figuring out what it means. It looks more like a crazy spiderweb now, to be honest.
Bellatrix suddenly throws her piece of chalk over her shoulder, hitting Hermione square in the forehead. Wha—
"And the reason it isn't in the textbook," Bellatrix carries on without pause. "Is because there are things the Ministry doesn't want you figuring out. Doesn't want magic to be manipulated. Experimented with. Doesn't want your average Weasley realising the power they could have."
"Hey!" Ron whispers.
Bellatrix turns around. Leans back against the board. "Words have limitless power. Magic has limitless power. The Ministry likes to chop them up. Separate them into near little boxes. Curses and jinxes and hexes. Herbology and potions. Charms and transfiguration. Dark magic, and then everything else. Defense against the dark arts. Nice and neat, isn't it? Has a nice ring to it."
"But…some spells are dark," Harry says. "They're made to hurt. To kill."
The room falls deathly silent.
Bellatrix walks closer once more. Tap. Tap…
Leans closer to Harry. "Intent," she whispers, her voice carrying through the room in the stillness. "Yes. That's what it tells you in your standard book of spells. Here's the answer to my earlier question, Potter. Curses…are made to inflict serious harm. To a person. It's what they are intended for. To hurt. To control. To torture. To kill."
Her hand twitches. Reaches up. Hovers in front of Harry's face. As if about to touch.
And then she abruptly moves back. Goes back to the board.
Taps on the word petrificus totalus. "Controls the body. Traps it," she barks.
Then moves along a line, and writes Imperio at the end. "Imperius curse. One of three unforgivable curses that will earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban. It controls the mind. Gives over complete control of your mind to the caster. Would you want me controlling your mind, Miss Patil?"
Parvati jumps. "No, Sir. Unless…well maybe during exams."
There's some weak laughter.
Bellatrix grins sharply. "Quite right. That would be nice, hmm? Getting to sit back? Relax? Let someone else take over?"
Parvati nods. Does relax slightly.
Bellatrix draws her wand. Taps it against her lip. "And if in this exam, you were told to cast a diffindo, a slicing charm, would you know how to do it? Have you been taught that yet?"
Parvati shakes her head. "I think we were taught it in charms class in first year, but I can't remember it very well."
Bellatrix walks down the central aisle. Comes to stand in front of Parvati and Lavender's joint desk. "Well, lucky for you, I can. Accio apple!"
Hermione turns to watch curiously as an apple flies out from the back room and into Bellatrix's hand.
She puts it down on the desk. "Geminio."
The apple duplicates. And then again as Bellatrix mutters out another spell, now with four apples.
"I know what you're thinking, Mr Finnigan. But make these apples into cider and you'll seriously regret it. Gamp's Law. No playing around with food, or it will mess up your insides. No, this isn't for eating. This is for…"
She picks up an apple.
And launches it high into the air, almost touching the rafters. "Diffindo!" she shouts, slashing her wand through the air.
The apple falls. Split clean in two.
Show off.
Ron whistles lowly. "Bloody brilliant."
"Want a turn, Mr Weasley?" Bellatrix calls.
Ron squeaks. "Me? Uhh…"
He looks around at everyone. Puffs out his chest. "Yeah. Sure. I'll give it a go."
Bellatrix raises an eyebrow. Beckons him over.
She's not even trying to hide.
"Ron, stop!" Hermione hisses. "Don't volunteer to—"
He ignores her and walks over to the table. Idiot.
Bellatrix nods at him. "It's pronounced diffindo. Emphasis on in. Say it for me."
Ron glances at Hermione. "Diffindo," he grins.
Bellatrix smacks him on the head. "Five points from Gryffindor for staring at witches instead of paying attention. Now the wand movement. Do you know it?"
Ron flushes bright red. "I wasn't— yeah. Yeah, it's uhh…like a slash down with a flick at either end."
Bellatrix shrugs. Shoves an apple into his palm. "Off you go, then."
Ron looks at the apple. Looks at the ceiling.
Throws it up in the air. "Diffindo!"
A spell shoots out of his wand. The apple falls.
Bellatrix catches it. Examines it. "Missed. You need to work on your timing. It glanced off the top, see?"
Hermione can't see. It's too far away. But she can see Ron leaning in curiously, looking relatively pleased with himself.
Hermione…is just confused. Very confused.
Teaching. She's actually teaching. Helping. A Weasley.
Ron comes back over, throwing and catching his apple. Shows them the very faint line.
"Anyone else? Patil? You still want me to take your exam for you?"
Uh oh.
Hermione slides off her stool and gets to her feet.
Parvati laughs nervously. "If you want to. I could never do that. I don't think I could even throw it high enough."
Bellatrix points her wand at Parvati. "Your choice then. Let's try it. Imperio!"
No!
"That's illegal!" Hermione shouts.
"Says the Ministry," Bellatrix growls back. "You blindly agree with everything the Ministry does, Granger? Think you shouldn't be taught what the world's really like? You think Miss Patil is ready for the real world?"
Hermione steps closer. "I…"
She looks around at her classmates, all of them staring at her in confusion for arguing with a professor. Looks at Parvati's blank, glazed stare.
Looks back at Bellatrix.
Bellatrix slowly shakes her head. "She has no idea. But she will. Constant vigilance!" she suddenly yells.
Everyone in the room except Hermione jumps.
Bellatrix folds her arms. Looks at Parvati. "Stand up. Go walk into the middle of the room."
Parvati does. Slowly. Dazedly drifts over. Hermione reaches out to her as she passes. Takes her arm.
Parvati doesn't even react. Brushes her off and keeps walking. Stops. Waits.
"Cut this apple in half. Like I showed you," Bellatrix says. Then throws the apple in an arc—
"Diffindo!" Parvati says calmly, wand slashing through the air.
The apple halves fall onto Neville's desk with a kethunk.
"Ooh! She did it!" Lavender squeals. "Her aim is usually awful. So that was all you, Professor?"
Bellatrix picks up the last apple. Studies it. "I told her to do it," she murmurs. "So she did it. That's how the imperius curse works. "Stay still."
Parvati doesn't stay still. She walks back over to her desk. A few muffled laughs echo around the room.
Bellatrix ignores them. Walks up to Lavender. Places the apple on her head. "I said, stay still, Miss Brown."
Lavender freezes. Her eyes widen. Her laughter has faded, unsure once more.
Harry stands up. "Hermione," he whispers in her ear. "Should we—"
Bellatrix holds up a hand. "Silence. Don't break my concentration."
The whole room seems to hold its breath. Watches. A room of frozen forms, apart from Parvati.
Who raises her wand. Directs it at Lavender, hand steady.
"If you move now, Miss Brown…you could die," Bellatrix whispers. "So don't do that."
Lavender swallows, apple wobbling. "Professor. I don't— I don't like this. Can you stop her? Please?"
And Parvati spins around. Aims her wand at Hermione. "Should I get her instead, then?" Parvati says in an eerily dulled voice. "You were talking about her hair yesterday. Should I chop it off?"
"No!" Lavender shouts, apple falling off her head. "Parvati! Stop!"
Parvati turns her wand on herself. "I could cut my hair off. Or my ear. What about…my tongue."
Parvati slowly sticks her tongue out. Raises her wand—
Harry dives at her and pulls her wand from her grasp, sliding it across the floor out of her reach.
Bellatrix laughs harshly. "Yes, Potter! Look at the Saviour go! So one of you has a brain in your head. But you shouldn't have done that. What should you have done, lad?"
Parvati starts fighting Harry off, kicking at him as he tries to help.
Hermione growls. Spins and slashes her wand at Bellatrix. "Petrificus totalus!" she spits.
And it hits.
Bellatrix stiffens. Falls. Topples backwards and hits the ground with a smack.
And Parvati falls still.
Then sits up. Gasps. "Oh!"
She looks at Harry. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to— Lav!"
She stands up and runs to Lavender, hugging her. "I…it felt so nice. I couldn't stop it. It was like I was dreaming, I didn't…I could hear…Professor…"
She notices Bellatrix lying on the floor.
Turns to look at Hermione.
Everyone is now looking at Hermione. Getting up and edging closer to crowd around Bellatrix.
Hermione swallows. Moves closer with them. "It's what you're supposed to do," she explains. "She— he was controlling the imperius curse. The only way to stop it, is to stop the caster. Otherwise, the person has to use their willpower to…fight it…"
She pauses. Looks more carefully at Moody's petrified body.
It's…
"He's moving," Seamus whispers loudly. "He's breaking out."
Hermione watches in amazement. It's true. That was the strongest body-binding curse she could muster, but…
Bellatrix is moving. Vibrating. Straining.
Breaks free with a grunt, bolting up so that she's sitting on the floor, panting. "Twenty points— to Gryffindor— Miss Granger. For quick thinking. Disarming the true opponent. And for a bloody strong binding curse."
Bellatrix reaches into her robes. Takes out her flask and takes a gulp from it.
Looks up at a still ashen Parvati. "And twenty points from Gryffindor, Miss Patil, for giving your control away so easily. You learnt your lesson, girl? All of you?"
Parvati nods jerkily. Steps back.
Bellatrix struggles to her feet. "Good. Constant vigilance. It's my motto for a reason. Be on the lookout. Don't let them control your mind. Don't let them control your body. Don't let them take the thoughts from your head. You have a brain. You have agency. Use it. Every person you meet in this world has a deadly weapon in their hand, and the ability to harm you with it. The killing curse isn't the only lethal spell. The cruciatus curse isn't the only spell that can inflict pain."
She walks over to the board. Writes down a dozen more spells, including the cruciatus curse and the killing curse, all connected in a huge web. "The Dark Arts. Every spell is dark, in the right hands. You just have to know...how to stop it."
She drops the chalk. Breathes heavily in the stunned room.
Turns and looks at Harry. "And that's why the killing curse…is the most unforgivable of all," she mutters. "Its intent…is to kill. There's no stopping it. No blocking it. No counter-curse. No-one has ever been hit with it…and survived."
Harry bends down and picks up Parvati's wand. Hands it back to her.
Raises his chin defiantly. "Until me," he says firmly.
Bellatrix smiles. "Until you. Words have power, Potter. Not everyone realises that. But with you…I reckon someone found the right words, hmm? Stopped the most powerful spell of all time. Stopped death itself."
"Killing isn't power," Harry replies. "It's cowardly. It's weakness. It shows you have something to fear."
Bellatrix studies him for a moment.
Limps over and sits at her desk, pulling out a quill and parchment. "Killing is a mercy," she says coldly. Distantly. Not looking up. "Death is an end to suffering. There are things in this world far worse than death. People beg for it, in the end…"
She drifts off. Stares into space.
Hermione shudders.
The bell rings from outside in the clock tower. Shatters the horrible silence.
"Class dismissed," Bellatrix mutters. "Except you, Longbottom. You hang back. I need a word with you."
Hermione has never seen a classroom empty so quickly. It helps that no-one had any books out, but still. One second they're all there, the next it's just her, Harry, Ron, and Neville.
And Bellatrix.
Harry clears his throat. "I'll stay too, if that's alright? I…wanted to talk to you, Professor."
"Yeah. Me too," Ron says. "About…that diffindo. Think maybe I did the wand movement wrong."
Bellatrix pushes her chair back. "Just Mr Longbottom. If you three want a chat, you can come during my office hours next week. Until then, off to dinner with you."
Hermione folds her arms. She isn't going anywhere. She isn't leaving Neville here alone with—
Neville nods. "I'll see you guys later. I'll…I would quite like a chat."
Bellatrix stands up. Claps Neville on the back. "There's a good lad. Come in the back, I'll make us a cup of tea. Might even have a biscuit or two. This lesson was a tough one, I know. But you had to learn sometime. No point pretending…well. We all know what we know, don't we?"
The magical eye scans over the four of them.
They do. They all know.
Some more than others, though. How much does Bellatrix know? What did that mean?
Bellatrix raises an eyebrow at them.
Harry nods and heads towards the door. "C'mon, guys. Before we miss dinner."
Hermione sighs, but follows after him, pulling her bag over her shoulder.
"Oh, and Granger?" Bellatrix calls.
Hermione stops. Doesn't turn. Waits in the doorway.
Hears the uneven footsteps come up behind her.
Turns around.
Bellatrix takes out her hip flask. Drinks from it. "I wasn't really going to chop your hair off, but in a fight, long hair can be a hindrance. You should tie it up. Maybe ask Professor McGonagall for some tips."
Wha—
Hermione's mouth falls open in complete—
That is ridiculous.
And she can talk! Seeing as her hair is always flying around everywhere, getting in her face when she fights. "Plenty of witches and wizards duel with long hair," Hermione grits out. "I'm sure I'll be fine, Professor."
Bellatrix puts the flask away. Shrugs. "Your choice. Right then. Longbottom! Professor Sprout says you've got a bit of a knack for Herbology. I think I have a few books that might be of interest…"
She turns and wanders off, going into the side room with Neville, whose face has come back to life a bit at the mention of plants.
Hermione steps out of the room to meet Harry and Ron in the corridor.
"Barmy," Ron whispers. "There's no other word to describe that. Absolutely bloody mental."
Hermione…can't exactly argue with that.
She sighs. Leans against the wall, just outside the classroom door. Shrugs helplessly at the others. Well? They should at least make sure that Neville gets out of there unharmed.
Ron's stomach rumbles as he looks longingly down the corridor.
Harry comes to lean next to her.
Ron glances at the classroom door.
Comes to slump against the wall on her other side.
This…is going to be a long year.