Protected Ivory [2]

Twenty-Four

I was pushing around my porridge, trying to wrap my mind around the events of the last few days. Pops was gone, and it was eating me up inside more then I could let on. When I brought my theory to Dumbledore and Moody, they both seemed to think I was reaching. I protested, saying it made sense, but only Moody seemed to give it a second thought.

Harry had gathered me, Hermione, Ron and Neville together to tell us what he had seen in the Pensive in Dumbledore's office. Imagine how startled I was when he described the court scene of how Dad was arrested. I tried to tell him Karkaroff was harmless, but he seemed to think there was something there. Ron was more interested in Karkaroff's message to Dad as they drug him from the room. Ron was convinced if Barty Crouch, Jr. had a daughter, she was surely the one behind all of this. Neville, Hermione and I all told him he was daft, but even Harry was giving it some thought. 

I shivered at the idea of it getting out I was his daughter, but I just shook my head. Rita Skeeter had all but disappeared after the first task, so she couldn't dig up any information that would give me away. Every time I brought it up to Hermione, she would just shrug and go oddly silent. 

"Hey," Neville said, sitting down next to me and smiling. 

"Hey," I said, offering him a tiny smile as I put some porridge in my mouth. 

I felt bad for Neville. We had both finally decided it was time to give us a chance, but it was over shadowed by Pops' death and my rambling thoughts. He hadn't pushed anything since that day, but I knew I'd have to make the final decision soon. I couldn't keep stringing him along without a final answer. 

"So, I got McGonagall to tell me the final task won't be until after final exams. The day after," he said, and I nodded, sighing with relief. "We have about a month in a half until them."

"Did they get a hint for this one?" I asked, but he shook his head. 

"Nope, it's all a surprise," he muttered, glancing up as the post began to arrive. "You expecting anything?"

"Maybe something from Narcissa, now that Pops death is common knowledge," I said, shrugging as I looked up. "I just wish Dumbledore and Moody would take me seriously. I mean, it makes sense."

"I know, but they also think you're hysterical at the moment."

"They haven't seen hysterical," I mumbled, taking another bite. "I'm eating, so I'm not sinking back into the depths or despair."

"Hey," Hermione said, sitting across from us, making me smile sadly at her. "How are you doing?"

"I don't know if I'm being honest," I sighed, shrugging. I hadn't wanted to get her involved with my theory, since Dad wasn't above killing his own father, let alone a muggle born who was friends with his daughter. I had voiced my worry to Neville, but he shrugged it off, saying it was worth it. 

"Have you seen Harry?" she asked suddenly looking around. "Him and Ron were out of the common room before you and Neville this morning."

"I didn't see them," Neville said, shrugging. "To be honest, I don't even remember hearing them leave."

"Great, now we have the mystery of Harry and Ron," I mumbled, shaking my head as a letter dropped next to my porridge. I recognized the hand writing and opened it with a scowl. The last thing I wanted to do was have a meeting with Moody this morning. At least it got me out of the first half hour of History of Magic. 

"What?" Neville asked, reading the letter over my shoulder. 

"Moody wants a word," I sighed, tucking it into my bag and sighing. "I'll see you guys in class."