Whispers of Harry's outburst spread through the castle in record time. It was the topic of conversation at dinner, in fact.
"What I don't get," Harry voice trembled with anger as he set his silverware down, his eyes blazed, "is why they all believed the story two months ago when Dumbledore told them..."
"The thing is, Harry, I'm not sure they did," Hermione sighed, shoving her food away from her with such a bitter expression it could turn fresh milk sour. "Oh, let's get out of here."
"What d'you mean, you're not sure they believed Dumbledore?" Harry asked as they headed up to the common room.
"Look, you don't understand what it was like after it happened. You arrived back in the middle of the lawn clutching Cedric's dead body... None of us saw what happened in the maze... We just had Dumbledore's word for it that You-Know-Who had come back and killed Cedric and fought you," Hermione explained softly.
"Which is the truth!" Harry exclaimed.
"I know it is, Harry, so will you please stop biting my head off?" Hermione shot back tiredly. "It's just that before the truth could sink in, everyone went home for the summer, where they spent two months reading about how you're a nutcase and Dumbledore's going senile!"
They were just about to reach the last staircase when they rammed into Draco Malfoy.
Amisty's gaze flickered to Harry.
"Go away, Draco," Amisty growled, shouldering past him rather roughly. "I don't want to talk to you."
"I wasn't even -- " He staggered, watching her. He straightened his bag and cleared his throat. "Fine, then."
Draco walked off, and Amisty forged ahead, ignoring the bewildered expression on Hermione's face.
"Mimbulus mimbletonia," She muttered, stepping to the side so the portrait could swing open and climbing through the portrait hole.
"What on earth was that about?" Hermione asked out of the corner of her mouth as they took their seats around the fireplace.
"I don't want to talk about it," She replies, more sharply than considered necessary.
"Certainly," Hermione muttered, unimpressed.
Crookshanks leaped up onto her lap as a comfortable silence fell.
Amisty stared at the flames, holding her knees close to her chest. Harry's words were affecting her more than she thought they would be.
"How can Dumbledore have let this happen? How can he let that terrible woman teach us? And in our O.W.L. year too!" Hermione exclaimed out of nowhere, banging her fists on the arms of her chair.
"Well, we've never had great Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, have we? You know what it's like, Hagrid told us, nobody wants the job, they say it's jinxed," Harry remarked bitterly.
"Yes, but to employ someone who's actually refusing to let us do magic!" Hermione went on, tugging on her hair. "What's Dumbledore playing at!"
"And she's trying to get people to spy for her. Remember when she said she wanted us to come and tell her if we hear anyone saying You-Know-Who's back?" Ron added.
"Of course she's here to spy on us all, that's obvious, why else would Fudge have wanted her to come?" Hermione snarled.
Ron opened his mouth to reply when --
"Don't start arguing again," Harry groaned. "Can't we just... Let's just do that homework, get it out of the way..."
Ron closed his mouth in an instant.
"Ron, do you mind getting Amisty and my school bags?" Hermione asked as the boys got to their feet.
He raised an eyebrow, "Erm, sure, Hermione."
Once they started to walk away, Hermione grabbed Amisty's wrists and she was met with a pair of questioning brown eyes.
"What was that with Malfoy?" Hermione demanded.
"I know, I know," Amisty whispered miserably. "What Harry said... it's just... it keeps replaying in my head."
"You know he didn't mean that. Not truly," She scolded, eyes narrowed.
"Well, you're going to write an apology to him this instant," Hermione declared. "Honestly, it's like you were back in first year!"
Dear Draco,
I'm really sorry about how I acted today... Harry's been upset recently and he said some things and they've affected me more than they should have. Apologies should be done in person, I know, but Hermione's breathing down my neck at the moment for how I acted in the hallway so I figured this was a sort of happy medium.
Sorry again, Amisty
It was quite honestly the fastest Argent had ever come back with a reply before. It was also one of the shortest messages she'd ever gotten from him and she couldn't decide it that was reassuring or concerning.
Dear Amisty,
The empty classroom during lunch period.
See you then, Draco
"Shall we do Snape's stuff first?" Ron suggested, unscrewing a pot of ink and dipping his quill in it. He scribbled across the page, "'The properties... of moonstone... and its uses... in potion-making...' There," He looked up at Hermione expectantly. "So what are the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making?"
Amisty snorted.
Hermione, however, wasn't listening whatsoever. She was glaring, to no one's surprise, at Fred, George, and Lee.
The three of them were sitting surrounded by a circle of first years, Hazel included, who were all chewing on candy that Fred had definitely given them.
"No, I'm sorry, they've gone too far," Hermione got to her feet, fuming. "Come on, Ron."
"I -- what?" Ron gasped, drawing out his words to buy time. "No -- come on, Hermione -- we can't tell them off for giving out sweets..."
Hermione huffed, "You know perfectly well that those are bits of Nosebleed Nougat or -- or Puking Pastilles or -- "
"Fainting Fancies?" Harry suggested as all the first years slumped over, eyes fluttering closed.
Hermione scowled, marching toward them.
Ron stood up about an inch off his chair before sinking down as far as he could in his chair, "She's got it under control."
"You're a horrible prefect," Amisty hummed, folding up Draco's note and tucking it into her pocket.
"Thanks, Am," He threw her a glare.
"That's enough!" Hermione stomped toward the twins, eyes alight.
"Yeah, you're right," George nodded as he scribbled on a clipboard, "this dosage looks strong enough, doesn't it?"
"I told you this morning, you can't test your rubbish on students," Hermione seethed.
"We're paying them!" Fred defended.
"I don't care, it could be dangerous!" Hermione countered.
"Rubbish," Fred scoffed.
"Calm down, Hermione, they're fine!" Lee waved his hand dismissively, placing purple sweets into the first years' mouths.
"Yeah, look, they're coming round now," George nodded.
His words weren't very reassuring, considering none of them seemed to know why they were knocked unconscious in the first place.
George kneeled down next to a waking, very disoriented Hazel.
He smiled kindly, "Feel alright?"
"I-I think so," Hazel replied, blinking and rubbing her eyes.
"Excellent," Fred grinned, going to scribble something done but finding his hands empty. Hermione had snatched his clipboard and bag of sweets away.
"It is NOT excellent!" She snarled.
"'Course it is, they're alive, aren't they?" Fred argued.
"You can't do this," Hermione insisted, "what if you make one of them really ill?"
"We're not going to make them ill, we've already tested them all on ourselves, this is just to see if everyone reacts the same -- " Fred began.
"If you don't stop doing it, I'm going to -- " Hermione growled.
"Put us in detention?" Fred supplied.
"Make us write lines?" George added.
Hermione's scowl deepened and she drew herself up, eyes narrowed into slits. "No, but I will write to your mother."
The twins froze.
"You wouldn't," George whispered, stepping back in horror.
"Oh, yes, I would. I can't stop you eating the stupid things yourselves, but you're not giving them to first years," Hermione replied, fists clenched.
She shoved Fred's things back into his hands, gave them one last glare, and stalked back to where they were sitting.
Ron was practically on the floor.
"Thank you for your support, Ron," Hermione scathed.
"You handled it fine by yourself," He replied, voice barely very quiet and very timid.
Hermione glared down at her parchment, jaw ticking, and, "Oh, it's no good, I can't concentrate now. I'm going to bed."
She dug through her bag, pulling out two knitted... things, and placing them on a table before covering them in crumpled parchment and a broken quill.
"What in the name of Merlin are you doing?" Ron stared at her.
Amisty couldn't blame him. Hermione had absolutely lost her mind with this plan.
"They're hats for house-elves. I did them over the summer. I'm a really slow knitter without magic, but now I'm back at school I should be able to make lots more," Hermione replied, shoving her books into her bag.
"You're leaving out hats for the house-elves? And you're covering them up with rubbish first?" Ron asked slowly.
"Yes," Hermione nodded with an air of finality, swinging her back over her shoulder.
"That's not one. You're trying to trick them into picking up the hats. You're setting them free when they might not want to be free," Ron exclaimed.
"Of course they want to be free! Don't you dare touch those hats, Ron!" She argued, cheeks pink, and stormed up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.
Ron immediately cleared off the parchment, "They should at least see what they're picking up. Anyway... There's no point trying to finish this now, I can't do it without Hermione, I haven't got a clue what you're supposed to do with moonstones, have you?"
"It's in that stupid Draught of Peace," Amisty replied, scowling at the memory. "And I think it's in Moonlight, too."
"Thanks," Ron scribbled it down quickly, frowning at his paper. "How on Earth he's expecting a foot, I have no idea."
"Snape always expects a ridiculous amount," Amisty sighed, rubbing her eyes. "I'm heading up to bed. G'night."
"Good night," Ron replied.
"'Night," Harry muttered, massaging his right temple.
She started to walk away, and then paused, "Erm... Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"I know you've been upset recently, and I know you're not very happy with my relationship with Draco... but, well... I'd appreciate it if you didn't act like I was betraying you," She tugged on the strap of her bag awkwardly. "You're one of my best friends, you come first."
He blinked.
"Yeah, sorry, 'Am," He mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.
"You can still strangle him if he says something stupid," She grinned. "I won't stop you there."
He laughed, "Note taken."
I have a plan... that may or may not end with my inevitable death, but we shall see... we shall see... No the plan doesn't have to do with Amisty being completely furious with Draco, a little bit different thing that plays a little bit with the teenage hormones because I'm a horrible, horrible human being. Thanks for reading! Don't murder me in my sleep!