The Gloriana Set

Harry's House

Harry slapped his forehead. "The Nott Shack! Of course, we should have known." His eyes turned to Theo. "So you've been there, Nott. Have you ever ..."

"No!" Theo snapped. "I mean, yes, I've been there a few times but I didn't know what it was used for—until later."

Harry glared at Theo, unconvinced, and Theo looked back at him steadily. Hermione was struck by how alike the two looked, with their green eyes, wild black hair and long noses. They even had the same flat expression. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, sensing that Theo needed to prove himself to Harry on his own. Instead she dropped onto the sofa, leaning back into the soft cushions with a sigh. She wanted nothing more than to curl up and go to sleep.

"Regis was the least cruel of my uncles," Theo was saying composedly. "Sometimes, he was even kind to me." He swallowed. "I had to try."

"Did you have to drag Hermione into it? She ended up in a muggle hunting—"

"I made him," Hermione broke in. "I disarmed him and made him swear to take me."

Harry turned his glare on her. "That was a fucking stupid thing to do, Hermione!"

"Nonsense," she said. "If I hadn't gone with Theo, he would be in the Death Eaters' hands, and now we have two captured Death Eaters."

"Two?" Harry asked, starting to look a little wild-eyed. Hermione's best friend was no stranger to sudden, bizarre situations, but this wasn't wartime.

Hermione pointed. "The Pygmy Puff," she said.

Harry stared at the tied-up purple fluffball rolling on the carpet. "That's a Death Eater?"

"Celeste Rosier," Hermione said calmly.

Harry turned pale. "You turned Celeste Rosier into a Pygmy Puff?"

"Advanced Transfiguration," Hermione said. She frowned at Celeste. "I didn't get the size right. Or the eyes. I like the color, though."

Harry looked from Hermione to Celeste, then back to Hermione again. "You learned how to turn vicious criminals into Puffs?" he asked. "That's what they're testing in NEWTs these days?"

"You'll have to add it to your PORN, Hermione," said Theo. He stripped off his black cloak and took a chair near the sofa. Clearly they were going to be here a while. Hermione wondered if Harry would calm down enough to offer them tea.

Apparently not—Harry had more questions. "And how did that happen?" Harry pointed to Macnair's stump. "Did you curse his hand off, Nott?"

Theo shook his head, looking a bit regretful.

"We don't know how that happened," Hermione said, "I didn't have my wand. Macnair was grabbing my ..." she trailed off, eyes suddenly wide.

Harry looked ready to explode. "Grabbing your what?"

"My hair," she said, clapping her hand to her head. "He grabbed my hair!"

She pulled the jeweled clasp out of her curls and held it up. Dark ringlets fell over her face and she pushed them back impatiently.

Theo grew very still in his chair, staring at the diamond clip in her hand. "Are you telling me ..."

Hermione nodded, letting her hand fall back to her lap. "It's uh, protective."

Theo groaned. "I don't believe this." He held up his still-bloody palm. "Is that why my hand's all cut up, Hermione? You didn't think to warn me?" His mouth turned down. "That night outside Hogsmeade ... when I cut my forehead ..."