The twittering of hurried whispers emanating from the Great Hall the following morning was the unmistakeable sign of gossip. Another day of drama at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Careful not to injure myself further, I pushed the door open with my right hand, keeping my left glued to my body. I had some difficulty given the awkwardness of the task, though I managed all the same, my arm nearly catching on the handle.
Minerva pulled out my chair as I approached the staff. I offered her a small smile in thanks, before remembering that she had been one of the people to walk in on the effects of the love potion. My face heated very quickly, my heart twanging in pain.
I felt I should apologise for what she saw. It was so improper and against the school code of conduct. "Headmistress..."
She waved me off. "Take a look at the paper, dearie."
I swallowed thickly, horror widening my eyes like saucers. Oh gods, this couldn't be good.
I gingerly took the rolled newspaper from the fingers, hand shaking uncontrollably. I lay it flat on the table, smoothing out the page.
Big bold letters decorated the headline. They were precisely what I had been expecting.
Scandal at Hogwarts
The subtitle and following story, however, were completely out of the ordinary. I would have never even hoped to se something different adorning the cover of the most read paper in wizarding Britain.
Hogwarts: Safe Place or Devil's Playground?
Aurors Harry J. Potter and Ronald B. Weasley are responsible for the discovery of illegal substances smuggled into the ancient castle sometime yesterday afternoon. It has been reported that they were stolen from Malfoy Manor several weeks prior, following the disappearance of Miss Ella Mitchell, Head of the Board of Education.
Coincidence? We beg to differ. Residue of Polyjuice Potion and excessively potent Cupiditas Carnis mixed with Amortentia was found in a lavatory sink in the dungeons.
Continuous events seem to affect the Potions' Master and his apprentice in particular. Why? We have reason to believe Miss Mitchell is behind the acts.
Is she working alone? Does she have an accomplice? No one knows.
All we know is that she is a known murderer out and about with dangerous substances and access to the school's interior.
Tread lightly.
I couldn't believe what I was reading. They discovered that we had been drugged. It was too good to be true. There was no way Rita Skeeter would miss out on writing such a juicy article.
I ripped through the rest of the paper hurriedly. Not a single mention of the incident.
I looked up at McGonagall, a million questions racing through my mind. "Potter and Weasley are in my office awaiting your arrival. They will have more answers."
Without so much as a word, I ran through the Hall, grazing by Snape on my way own. He had called out to me, but I couldn't stop now. I needed to know what the devil was going on.
I spat the password, sprinting up the steps, barging through the door. Surely enough, Harry and Ron were waiting for me. They both came to me quickly, wrapping their arms around me.
"You alright, 'Mione?" Asked the redhead. I nodded quickly, suspicious of his kindness after what had happened. Ronald had a nasty temper.
Harry followed suit with a statement of his own. "We came as soon as McGonagall sounded the intrusion alarm."
I frowned. I hadn't heard the alarm. "Intrusion alarm? When?"
Ron winced, his nose scrunching up. Ah. That's when.
I decided to change the topic to another that had been burning a hole through my brain. "How did you know I was drugged?"
Harry sighed, taking a steady breath. "Apparently you had a meeting with Kingsley and Van Beuson after Snape asked you to return to Hogwarts?" I nodded. "McGonagall said that Kingsley was acting really oddly and that his presence had an effect on Snape. He was getting really irritated, something he doesn't normally have issues with concerning Kingsley. She called us as soon as you left because Kingsley walked into the room wondering where everyone had run off to as there was a meeting to be had."
My mouth dropped open. "You mean that..."
Someone had impersonated the Minister. The Minister. It seemed there was no limit as to how far the witch would go to get revenge over something completely out of her control. It made my insides churn. "That doesn't explain why I was drugged."
Harry ran a hand through his hair, his gold engagement band glinting. "We haven't a solid motive at the moment, though we believe it may have been to distract you. I suppose the perpetrator thought you would be able to go after them. Another factor is the amount of negative attention you would have received from the press. One of you would have been sacked."
Ron spoke up, seemingly picking the question out of my head. "We altered Van Beuson's memory. As for Skeeter," he pulled a jar from his pocket, a black beetle crawling around erratically. "we thought we'd let you pick a suitable punishment."
I reached out for the jar, forgetting that I had been injured. I winced, reaching out with my other hand to grasp it. My action didn't go unnoticed. "Merlin, Hermione, are you alright? Your fingers are blue!" Exclaimed Ron.
I nodded, setting down the jar on the desk and lifting the sleeve of my dress. "I suppose my bandage may be too tight."
The boys gaped at me as I unravelled the cloth, exposing my purple arm that had swollen over. "Damn. I have to go back to the infirmary. It isn't supposed to swell anymore."
Harry took my face in his hands, holding me still. I had no choice but to look straight into his arms. "What happened? Don't beat around the bush, Hermione. Tell me."
I shrugged with my good arm, looking down. "It's nothing, Harry. It's stupid, really."
He forced me to look up again. "Tell me."
I let out a small laugh, though it was filled with anything but humour. "I fell in the washroom. I hit my elbow on the bath."
Ron frowned. "You don't have a bath."
I bit my lip for a moment, contemplating how much of the truth I ought to tell them. "Snape's chambers, Ron." I could tell he was jumping to conclusions. "I went to brush my teeth and I slipped. That's all. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to see Madam Pomfrey about this. I insist you speak to the Potions' Professor about all this. He has a right to know."
I left the two Aurors in my wake, to follow me like puppies as I left the round office, heading up the stairs to the hospital wing. Once I reached the top of the staircase, I sensed a familiar presence approach me, a steady arm wrapping around my waist. I stopped walking, shooing away his hand. "I don't know what you're playing at, but I want no part in it. I don't know what you've done with my Severus, and until he returns to me, I refuse to speak to you unless absolutely necessary."
His jaw clenched, and his eyes flitted to my arms, concern flashing through them. "At least allow me to escort you."
I shrugged, raising an eyebrow. "Join the party." I replied, gesturing to my other followers.
Harry wasted no time in running up to his former teacher to brief him on what had happened down at the Ministry and in consequence of the events of the night before. The familiar in and out fade of grey was settling in my muscles, atrophying them into place. Walking became difficult, taking too much energy. I was suddenly so tired. And dizzy, gods, I was dizzy.
I hadn't realised I had stopped moving, leaning heavily against the wall until I was scooped up into strong arms. Rough, black material met my face, my cheek leaning against it. I sighed as the scent of the Potions' class filled my senses. It was so calming. He carefully adjusted my elbow so that it wouldn't get further damaged. "Easy there, Granger." He murmured, resting his lips on my temple. I assumed he was checking for fever.
His words had my breath catching in my throat as I was catapulted back in time in my memories.
He chuckled, his hand inching lower still, until it rested on my thigh. He grabbed it, bending my knee, tracing little circles onto the skin. I hooked it around his waist and forced him closer still. I couldn't get enough of him, and he knew it. "Easy there, Granger." He whispered, returning to my mouth.
Thoughts of that marvellous Christmas morning pecked away at my heart. I whimpered slightly. He mistook it for pain and cooed slightly, shifting me in his arms to make me more comfortable.
I lost sight of Harry and Ron, but to be perfectly frank, I was glad for it. I wanted to enjoy this moment privately, no matter how short. "I don't feel well," I said, leaning further into him.
He nodded. "We are almost there, no need to worry."
He stepped into the infirmary and another wave of nausea hit me. "I think I'm going to be sick."
He shook his head. "You are going to be just fine."
Poppy came over, asking what all the fuss was about, taking in the sight of the four of us. Harry spoke up, gesturing to my arm. She went to get the skelegro and a fresh bandage before returning to have Snape place me on a cot. He walked toward the only available one, which happened to be across the room.
Exchanging a few more words on my condition, Snape was filled in on my other health issues that he was responsible for, such as my very high stress levels and triggering my relapsing bouts of depression.
He frowned. "What of her recurring sickness?"
Madam Pomfrey seemed as though she was about to answer when I interrupted them by vomiting on my mentor's chest, covering his coat with my breakfast. Ron stilled, Harry squirmed, Snape sighed placing me on the cot and the healer brought me a bucket.
I hid behind my hands, mortified. "I am so sorry, Professor! I swear I didn't mean to..."
His eyes slid shut a moment, before meeting mine. "Not to worry. I must say I deserved it this time around." With a wave of his hand, the mess was cleaned. No proof that it had ever happened. "You did try to warn me, after all."
With that, I lost it, turning into a mess of tears. Ron came around to the opposite side of the bed, away from Snape. He pressed kisses to my forehead, stroking my hair. Harry joined him, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking my good hand in both of his as the older witch wrapped my arm. Sensing he was only upsetting me further, the man in black wandered to one of the nearer cots, drawing aside the curtain and sitting in the chair next to it. I could vaguely see the tiny frame of his daughter peeking past the blankets. She was small before, now she was skeletal.
He ran his hand through her dark curls, kissing her head softly. One of her arms hung off the side of the bed. He took it into his own, rubbing circles into her palm. Waverly eventually woke, meeting her father's gaze. A smile broke the solemn look on her face. She sat up, reaching out to wrap her arms around his neck. He slipped her into his lap, wrapping her in a blanket, cradling her. The tiny girl began coughing violently, unable to catch her breath. A few moments went by before she took a large, gasping breath, settling in his arms again.
I turned to the nurse. "What's wrong with her? She seemed fine a few weeks ago."
Madam Pomfrey finished with my arm and looked at me sadly. "She contracted Scrofungulus. It's highly contagious and spreads at an alarming rate. I had to quarantine her before anyone else got it. We think she may have contracted it from an old library book in the archives. From the mould growing on it and such."
Ron's face went pale. "Isn't it deadly?"
The healer nodded. "He's doing his best to stop the fungus from spreading into her lungs. So far, he hasn't been too successful. He's only managed to slow it down and stop it from affecting anyone else."
My heart felt so heavy. No wonder he was so worried about my well-being. Despite how he acted, it was obvious he cared. He was afraid. He was afraid of losing his little girl. The daughter he had only recently been reunited with.
I felt awful. I had pushed him away, thinking only of myself. it was the whole Weasley wedding situation all over again. Why did I keep pushing people away?
Making a promise to make things right again, I slipped from the cot and walked toward the Snapes, sitting on the edge of the bed.
The girl's eyes sparkled. "Hermione! You've come back."
I smiled, my eyes watering. She was so strong. "Of course, darling. I told you I would. I wouldn't dare go against my word."
I reached out, taking her hand. She offered me a large smile before looking up at her father. "Papa, are you the one who made her come back?"
He seemed lost for words. I stepped in, providing an answer for him. "He did. He sent me a letter asking me to return."
Satisfied with my answer, her smile spread. "What happened to your arm?" She questioned, her eyebrows furrowing, not unlike the way her father's did when he was thinking.
I rolled my eyes. "I fell and smacked it on the bathtub."
The Ravenclaw sat up slowly, meeting my eyes. "Papa's bathtub? You don't have one."
I nodded, colour heating my cheeks. "Yes, Waverly." He replied, finding himself, though his voice held a note of sadness that he couldn't conceal.
It flew 10 feet over her head. Her next question rendering me incapable of proper thought, speech, or anything else for that matter. "I heard rumours that you and Hermione are to get married. Is it true?"
My heart was pounding. He met my eyes quickly, something flashing in them before turning to look down at his daughter. "I am afraid that those are only rumours, sweetheart." His voice seemed to break at the end of his sentence. "Besides, it would be improper."
Waverly frowned, her face falling. "Why should it matter? You love each other, anyone with eyes can see that." Snape glared but she kept talking before he could get a word in. "If you didn't, why would mama be hell-bent on ruining you both? Hmm? I might be 13, Papa, but I'm far more intelligent than I seem."
The corner of his lips quirked up ever so slightly. "Indeed you are, Wavy. You never cease to surprise me."