HIS CHOSEN GIRL
chapter thirty five-polyjuice and azkaban
[Your P.O.V]
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Harry, Ron, and I sit in the library, awaiting Hermione. Hermione, after a long while of searching, walks over, book in hand. Yesterday, Hermione proposed that Draco could be the heir of Slytherin. I must say, it makes a lot of sense, Draco is about as Slytherin as one could be. That's why today, we rushed to the library as quickly as we could, she said she knew of a potion that might be able to aid us in our search.
"Here it is, the Polyjuice potion," she begins reading before she even sits down. "Properly brewed, the Polyjuice potion allows the drinker to transform the self temporarily into the physical form of another."
"You mean if Harry and I drink that stuff, we'll turn into Crabbe and Goyle?" Ron asks, in reference to the plan we had concocted last night, clearly intrigued.
"Yes," Hermione confirms.
"Wicked," Ron grins. "Malfoy'll tell us anything."
"Exactly, but it's tricky," Hermione says, scanning the book. "I've never seen a more complicated potion."
She passed the book to me and it's as if it's written in a different language. "Hermione!" I exclaim. "This'll take at least one month to make!"
"A month?" Harry repeats concernedly. "But, Hermione, if Malfoy is heir of Slytherin, he could attack half the Muggleborns in the school by then."
Hermione sighs. "I know. But it's the only plan we've got."
"So is it worth it?" Ron asks scanning over our group. "Are we doing this?"
We sit in silence for a moment, as if waiting for something to either confirm or deny. When no one does, I take it as my cue to speak up. "I really don't see how we've got any other choice," I turn to Hermione. "Look, you said this potion is really complicated, can you handle it?"
Hermione, slowly but surely, nods her head. "It won't be easy but I'll manage it."
I nod. "Good on you. Now, I've gathered some information about last night, around the time I believe the events had taken place and I think I was able to find a lead."
Ron's eyes widen when I pull out my notepad filled almost entirely with different theories, illustrations, and scribbled out sentences. "Whoa!" He gapes. "You did all that in a night?"
"I know, right? Wasn't too hard either. If only I put this much effort into my assignments. I'd be as good as Hermione," I reply. "So when we got to the wall, the blood was still dripping meaning, of course, that whoever had written the message had done so just prior to when we'd discovered it. We had gotten there at maybe just after seven o clock and it was just as everyone was returning to their dorms after dinner. Whoever had written that message had time to write it, when they knew that the halls would be clear, wash the blood from their hands and hide the evidence, then go back to the dining hall to leave with the rest of the school and pretend to discover the message easily avoiding suspicion. The answer then really should be simple, it was done by someone who skipped out on dinner."
Hermione studies my notes, nodding her head approvingly. "Wow, (y/n). I'm really impressed."
"Only thing is, none of us were at dinner the whole time, so how could we know who wasn't there?" Ron asks.
I snap my fingers at him. "Thought of that. I bribed Seamus Finnegan with chocolate frogs-"
"Wait, wait, wait," Ron interjects, shaking his hands. "My chocolate frogs."
"Uh, No. . . anyways, I asked him if he noticed anyone missing from dinner and he told me that, while he couldn't possibly have recited everyone that wasn't there, he did notice that Lavender Brown, Ginny, and Malfoy weren't present."
"Strange, why wasn't Ginny at dinner?" Hermione asks.
"My sister is not the heir of Slytherin," Ron defends immediately.
I roll my eyes. "Obviously not, Ron. Hermione wasn't accusing her."
"Not at all," Hermione adds. "I was just curious."
"Come to think of it, I actually think I had seen her when I was looking for Harry. She was probably studying or something, I heard McGonagall assigned a whole bunch of homework for the first year classes," I say.
"What about Lavender Brown?" Harry asks. "Where was she?"
I shake my head. "Who cares? She hasn't got the brain cells to be the heir of Slytherin. Someone who does though? Malfoy. And he was not in the dining hall. Coincidence?"
Harry nods. "You really may be onto something. We've got to find out what Malfoy was doing that night."
"And catch him before he strikes again," I add. I then look down at my watch. Hermione had given me one of her old ones, annoyed with my constant lifting her wrist when I need to know the time. "Hey, Harry. Shouldn't you be going down to the Quidditch pitch? The match is starting soon."
"Oh you're right, Wood will kill me if I'm late again. I'll see you guys after the game."
"I'll come with you," Ron says, hopping off the window sill and running off with Harry towards the library exit.
I run my fingers down the spines of a few books on the shelf when a thought occurs to me. "Hey, any chance they've got books about Azkaban?"
"Obviously," Hermione replies, reading more about the Polyjuice potion. "Why?"
I shrug. "Well, you know, I wanna find out more about my mum. I'm wondering if they'd have like a records book, if you could like see everyone that's committed a crime and what they're in there for, you know, something like that."
Hermione glances around hesitantly. "You know, (y/n), I can't help but to think that you may be playing with fire a little bit. I mean, if you find out what your mother did, you'll never be able to un-find out. She hasn't told you why she's there, she hasn't even told you her name, and that's clearly been done for a reason."
An unidentifiable anger begins coursing through my veins and it startles me at first. I'm not sure why, but I just get the most inexplainable annoyance towards Hermione and her lack of understanding that finding out about my parents is something that I deserve, something that I need, no, was told to do. It makes me even angrier that I'm not allowing myself to tell her, I just value her safety quite honestly more than I value my own and I could never allow her to get harmed or put into danger on my regards.
"Why the sudden interest in your parents anyway?" Hermione asks curiously.
I gulp. "Because. Um, I don't know, I just think it's important that I know where exactly I came from."
"But, your mother is in Azkaban. It's not exactly somewhere you'd be proud to say you've been."
I know she's right. I get it, but the fact that I'm her best friend and she can't just be supportive, she can't just have my back, it makes me so very angry.
"Hermione, at the end of the day you've got two parents that you can be proud of. Parents that'll love and care about you and what do I have? What have I had for the past twelve years? Nothing close to what you've had, surely. Now that my mom is reaching out to me, showing me even a little bit of a caring parent, something I've longed for my entire life, how can you not expect me to investigate it? I need to know more. If you want to be a good friend and help me, great, if not, if you don't think it's a good idea, then just get out," I'm practically screaming at the girl. She stares at me, wide eyes staring into my own and I have to take quite a few breaths to calm myself down.
She disappears down an aisle before returning a few moments later. She hands me a large book, dusty and ancient looking.
"This is similar to the one you'd taken out last year," she says. "This one is more of a record book, like you'd said you'd wanted. If you're looking for anything more, more detailed crimes, you'd be best off with that book from last year, in the restricted section," she says, avoiding eye contact.
"Thanks," I say feeling guilty for yelling at Hermione even though I know deep down that what seems like a lack of support is really just concern for me. "I'll give it a look. I think I'm ready now, I didn't really look at the book last year, freaked me out too much."
She nods silently. "I'll leave you to it then," she turns on her heels to leave before visibly hesitating. "You know, I've seen you mad before but I've never seen you so mad that your eyes turn red."
"What?" I call out after her once I register her words, but she's already left the library.
I fall back against one of the bookshelves. Surely she's wrong, messing with me for revenge for losing my cool. No. She wouldn't.
I sink to the ground and wrap my arms around my legs. I have so many questions and absolutely zero answers. I really quite wish I'd never ran away from home, maybe my parents would've told me everything, explained it all when I'd gotten my letter.
Maybe I did this all to myself.
Regardless, I haven't heard of any other witch or wizard with glowing red eyes of anger. What is wrong with me? Am I just completely mental?
I decide I need a distraction so I crack open the book that Hermione had given me. I anxiously flip through the pages, blowing dust off of the old book. For a book that seems as old as time itself, it's updated to date. I flip through hundreds of pages of that book but not once do I see the last name (l/n), not once do I see a picture of my parents.
I close the book in extreme disappointment as irritation. If neither of my parents are in Azkaban, then who the heck has been sending me letters? I collect my stuff and decide to catch the rest of the Quidditch game to support Harry. Before leaving however, I jot down the only name of a female around my mothers age that starts with a B, since that's the first letter of my mother's name.
Bellatrix Lestrange.
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