The Girl Who Hid | ✓

|107| Information

"Yes, it must," said Hermione, pointing at the title of his essay, "because we were asked how we'd deal with dementors, not 'Dugbogs,' and I don't remember you changing your name to 'Roonil Wazlib' either."

"Ah no!" said Ron, staring horror-struck at the parchment. "Don't say I'll have to write the whole thing out again!"

"It's okay, we can fix it," said Hermione, pulling the essay toward her and taking out her wand.

"I love you, Hermione," said Ron, sinking back in his chair, rubbing his eyes wearily.

Hermione turned faintly pink, but merely said, "Don't let Lavender hear you saying that."

Hermione and Ron continue to fix his essay while talking about Lavender Brown; Harry ends up throwing his textbook, annoyed that Prince hadn't told him how to get the memory with Slughorn. Dobby and Kreacher soon poped in, telling Harry about how they spied on Malfoy as he asked and how he's been speaking up to the seventh floor where the D.A. Meetings used to be held.

"Maybe the Marauders never knew the room was there," said Ron.

"I think it'll be part of the magic of the room," I said. "If you need it to be Unplottable, it will be."

"Dobby, have you managed to get in to have a look at what Malfoy's doing?" said Harry eagerly.

"No, Harry Potter, that is impossible," said Dobby.

"No, it's not," said Harry at once. "Malfoy got into our headquarters there last year, so I'll be able to get in and spy on him, no problem."

"But I don't think you will, Harry," said Hermione slowly. "Malfoy already knew exactly how we were using the room, didn't he, because that stupid Marietta had blabbed. He needed the room to become the headquarters of the D.A., so it did. But you don't know what the room becomes when Malfoy goes in there, so you don't know what to ask it to transform into."

"There'll be a way around that," said Harry dismissively. "You've done brilliantly, Dobby."

"Kreacher's done well too," said Hermione kindly; but far from looking grateful, Kreacher averted his huge, bloodshot eyes and croaked at the ceiling, "The Mudblood is speaking to Kreacher, Kreacher will pretend he cannot hear —"

"Kreacher, stop it! Get out of it," I snapped at him. Kreacher gave Harry and me a deep bow and Disapparated.

"You'd better go and get some sleep too, Dobby," Harry said softly.

"Thank you, Harry Potter, sir!" squeaked Dobby happily, and he too vanished.

"How good's this?" said Harry enthusiastically, turning to Ron, Hermione, and me the moment the room was elf-free again. "We know where Malfoy's going! We've got him cornered now!

"Yeah, it's great," said Ron glumly, who was attempting to mop up the sodden mass of ink that had recently been an almost completed essay. Hermione pulled it toward her and began siphoning the ink off with her wand.

"But what's all this about him going up there with a 'variety of students'?" said Hermione. "How many people are in on it? You wouldn't think he'd trust lots of them to know what he's doing..."

"Yeah, that is weird," said Harry, frowning. "I heard him telling Crabbe it wasn't Crabbe's business what he was doing... so what's he telling all these... all these..."

Harry's voice trailed away; he was staring at the fire.

"God, I've been stupid," he said quietly. "It's obvious, isn't it? There was a great vat of it down in the dungeon— He could've nicked some any time during that lesson..."