LITTLE MISS MUDBLOOD – ACT 1 : SCENE 3 : CHAPTER 35
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In no time at all, Defense Against the Dark Arts had become most people's favorite class. Only Draco Malfoy and his gang had anything bad to say about Professor Lupin.
"Look at the state of his robes," Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Professor Lupin passed. "He dresses like our old house-elf."
But no one else cared that Professor Lupin's robes were patched and frayed. His next few lessons were just as interesting as the first. After boggarts, they studied Red Caps, nasty little goblinlike creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed: in the dungeons of castles and the potholes of deserted battlefields, waiting to bludgeon those who had gotten lost. From Red Caps they moved on to kappas, creepy water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.
However, Potions was now becoming rather irritating. Draco Malfoy was now becoming unbearably annoying; Professor Snape was bullying Neville more so than usual (due to the story of Snape-boggart dressed in old-lady clothes); and it was harder for Y/N to focus solely on her work without having the urge to pour boiling water all over Draco fucking Malfoy.
On the other hand, Y/N's elective classes were becoming more interesting (with the exception of Divination and Care of Magical Creatures). Arithmancy was becoming harder every week (and although Malfoy sat next to her there, too, it was rather enjoyable), both Muggle Studies and the Study of Ancient Runes were a breeze, Divination kinda sucked but it was sort of interesting, but Care of Magical Creatures was just a bore.
Nobody really liked the class after it had become exasperatingly dull. Hagrid seemed to have lost his confidence. They were now spending lesson after lesson learning how to look after flobberworms, which had to be some of the most boring creatures in existence.
"Why would anyone bother looking after them?" said Ron, after yet another hour of poking shredded lettuce down the flobberworms' slimy throats.
"Isn't that the truth," Daphne sighed, watching Theodore and Blaise smack each other with stringy, slimy flobberworms, getting mucus all over each other. At least they were having fun.
With the Quidditch season coming up, Y/N's schedule was packed even tighter. Balancing her homework and training new players wasn't easy, but somehow she managed. Of course, it was taking a visible toll on her, and (rather surprisingly), Draco Malfoy was the first to notice.
"Let me train the new players up to standard," he said after one excruciatingly tiring practice. They were in the common room and Y/N was working on her Arithmancy homework, dirty, sweaty, and still in her Quidditch robes. She looked up from the desk.
"What?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes.
"I said –"
"No, I know what you said," she interrupted, setting her quill down. "But why? I thought It'd be fun seeing me suffer."
Malfoy scoffed. "No, I like to see you suffer and all, but I don't want to see my Quidditch team suffer."
"Excuse me, it's my Quidditch team," Y/N sneered, picking her quill back up. "And there's a certain standard I want –"
"Yes, yes, I know perfectly what standard you're talking about," said Malfoy sarcastically, crossing his arms. "I know you."
"Ahaha, no you don't," spat Y/N, getting back to her homework. "And I'm not going to let you butcher my team by teaching them to cheat like fucking Flint –"
A long, pale pinky appeared in front of Y/N's face. Malfoy said, "I pinky swear on my mum's life I won't teach them to cheat."
Y/N smiled in amusement, looking up. Malfoy looked one-hundred percent serious, and was holding out his pinky impatiently.
"Cross your heart, hope to die, stick a needle in your eye?"
"Yeah yeah, whatever, you can even fucking watch for all I care," he said, irritated. Y/N sighed, thought, and then joined her pinky with his.
"Go fuckin' wild, Draco Malfoy."
Y/N, although feeling bad for Harry for not being able to go, woke up on Halloween morning, excited. She went down to breakfast with Theodore, Blaise, and Daphne and they joined Harry, Ron, and Hermione at one of the tables, dressed for a slightly cold day out. Y/N herself wore a green cardigan-top and black jeans, with her favorite heeled boots and a crossbody bag.
"We'll bring you lots of sweets back from Honeydukes," said Hermione, looking desperately sorry for Harry.
"Yeah, loads," said Ron. The Slytherins nodded their heads in agreement.
"Don't worry about me," said Harry in an offhand voice. "I'll see you at the feast. Have a good time."
He accompanied them to the Entrance Hall, where Filch, the caretaker, was standing inside the front doors, checking off names against a long list, peering suspiciously into every face, and making sure that no one was sneaking out who shouldn't be going.
A small, paper origami bird fluttered over to Y/N and she let it drop into her hands, opening it. It said,
Buy me some Honeydukes treats (especially Sugar Quills)? Please?
– Anthony G., your favorite second-year student
Y/N smiled and pocketed it, tucking it in her jean pocket and making a note in the back of her mind.
"Staying here, Potter?" shouted Malfoy, who was standing in line with Crabbe and Goyle. Surprisingly, Parkinson was nowhere to be found but Malfoy's useless sling was present. "Scared of passing the dementors?"
Harry, surprisingly, ignored him and bid good-bye to Y/N, disappearing up the Grand Staircase. Y/N turned back to the line and was met with Filch's old, haggly face peering into her own, grunting and allowing her through. Her face felt thoroughly violated, but she thought no more of it and hopped in a horseless carriage to Hogsmeade.
Hogsmeade was magnificent. Splitting up, they decided to meet back at the Three Broomsticks, and Y/N, Daphne, and Hermione set off together. They visited many shops, including Gladrags Wizardwear, a clothing shop that sold very eccentric clothes, which they had fun trying on and buying; Honeydukes, which Y/N was dying to go to – she bought half the stock of Sugar Quills, along with tens of other sweet treats she's never seen before, all to try out with Hermione and Anthony; Zonko's Joke Shop, where they bought bagfuls of dungbombs, frog spawn soaps, and more (of course, Y/N's purchases were going to Fred and George); they also went to Spintwitches Sporting Needs, which gave Y/N a glance in a Quidditch magazine about the Firebolt, the fastest broom to date – Y/N's heard of it before, but she never actually got to see it in person (she reckons she wouldn't ever be able to, though, it was supposed to be extremely expensive). Y/N also remembered to tell Daphne and Hermione about Malfoy's odd offer, which arose questions and concerns.
"I really don't know," she said to them as they made for the Three Broomsticks. "He just came up to me in the common room after practice and offered. Of course I was suspicious, 'Mione, a boy who you share mutual dislike towards doesn't just pop out a question like that unless something's in it for him – no, Daph, he did not blackmail me –"
Hermione, Daphne, and Y/N entered a warm, crowded, and a bit smoky inn, but it was clean and welcoming all at the same time. They found Theodore, Blaise, and Ron at a table in the corner, and they made room for them, sliding them each a foaming pewter tankard.
"Butterbeer," said Ron cheerfully as Hermione slid into the booth next to him. "Possibly the best wizarding drink known to wizard-kind . . . other than Firewhiskey, of course!"
"Ron!" Hermione said furiously. "You're thirteen!"
"So?" he said, and Y/N took a sip out of her tankard. She hummed; it was a delightful butterscotch drink that warmed her insides. She could get used to this!
It was around dusk when Theodore, Blaise, Daphne, and Y/N returned to the Slytherin common room. Anthony was sitting in front of the fire with his friends when Y/N tossed a bag in his lap and headed up to her dorm with Daphne to drop off their bags before heading out for the feast with Theodore and Blaise.
They entered the Great Hall in a few minutes' time. It had been decorated with hundred and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant water snakes.
The food was delicious; all of them even helped themselves to second helpings of everything, despite being full to bursting with Honeydukes sweets. For some reason, the Feast seemed to be even more delicious than last year, but they weren't complaining. In fact, they actually complimented the food – quite scarcely actually, because they were busy stuffing their faces, but it was too delicious to ignore. The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Hogwarts ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a bit of formation gliding; Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had great success with a reenactment of his own botched beheading.
It had been such a pleasant evening that Y/N's good mood couldn't even be spoiled by Parkinson, who shouted over a knot of Slytherin first-year's heads, "Slutville sends its love, Granger!"
"At least I'm not their mayor," Y/N snickered to Daphne and they, slightly boozed-up with Butterbeer and a few shots (4? Y/N didn't know, they were just now kicking in) of Firewhiskey (thanks to Fred and George), sniggered like hyenas together.
Maybe they were lightweights?
They followed the rest of the Slytherins down to the dungeons and to the common room, where the boys and girls split up and headed for their dorms. Daphne and Y/N giggled together and dressed in their nightwear, dancing to soundless music and brushing their teeth.
"I think" – Y/N hiccuped – "we should take Calming Draughts."
Daphne nodded furiously and Y/N stumbled over to her box of potions, fumbling around blindly and tossing Daphne a bottle, who downed it and shivered. Y/N, shaking her head, downed her own and expected to shiver like Daphne – instead, she collapsed on the floor, snoring loudly. The other girls looked at her in shock.
"Y/N!" Daphne gasped, and ran to her aid. Daphne snatched the bottle and checked it: Sleeping Draught it said in Y/N's loopy handwriting. Daphne rolled her eyes. "You fucking idiot."
She heaved Y/N into her bed (with much difficulty) and put the bottles back into the box, closing it and climbing into bed herself. Daphne was just about to fall asleep when a loud knock sounded on their door.
"Come on!" she groaned and slumped out of bed. She opened the door.
"Professor Snape says everyone needs to go to the Great Hall," said the fifth-year prefect, peering into the room. She noticed Y/N, passed out. "What's wrong with her?"
Daphne scowled. "Sleeping Draught."
The prefect 'hmphed' and said, "Well, give her a Wideye Potion or something. Snape said Dumbledore said everyone needs to go to the hall."
She turned and left. Daphne sighed.
The other girls left and Daphne grunted, fumbling through Y/N's box of potions once more.
Wideye Potion
Roughly turning Y/N's head back, Daphne dumped the potion down Y/N's throat. Y/N's eyes flew open.
"Ergh – what happened?" said Y/N, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. Daphne looked unimpressed.
"Get up, we're going to the Great Hall," she said sharply, pulling Y/N out of bed and dragging her down to the Slytherin common rooms. Y/N looked around, confused. Every other Slytherin was in the common room, filing out a few at a time. Theodore and Blaise joined them, equally confused.
"What's happening?" asked Theodore furrowing his brows. Y/N shrugged.
"I don't know," she said. "I just woke up."
"After taking a fucking Sleeping Draught instead of a Calming Draught," huffed Daphne, looking very red with frustration. "Honestly, how do you mix those up? I had to give you a freakin' Wideye Potion to wake you up."
"By being tipsy," Y/N muttered, yawning. She must have brewed the Sleeping Draught extra strong, if she was still feeling the effects after a Wideye Potion.
Goldfish jumped into Y/N's arms and licked her face excessively before jumping out and running over to Draco Malfoy. She watched, face pulled into a disgusted frown, as Goldfish jumped into Malfoy's arms, licking his face too and snuggling his face into the crook of Malfoy's neck. Malfoy, smirking smugly, hugged the overgrown golden retriever like a teddy bear, a look of superiority on his face.
Y/N scoffed in disbelief and followed Blaise out of the common room.
They, the rest of Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw joined the Gryffindors in the Great Hall, who were looking very spooked. Professor Dumbledore addressed them;
"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore told them as Professor McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added to Percy, who was looking intensely proud and important. "Send word with one of the ghosts."
Professor Dumbledore paused, about to leave the hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing . . ."
One casual wave of his hand and the long tables flew to the edges of the hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.
"Sleep well," said Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind him.
The hall immediately began to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened.
"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted Percy. "Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"
"Let's go find Harry, Ron, and Hermione," Y/N muttered, and they seized four sleeping bags, finding the three dragging their own into a corner. Theodore, Blaise, Daphne, and Y/N joined them.
"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Hermione whispered anxiously. Y/N shrugged, narrowing her eyes at Malfoy, who was standing, tauntingly, with Goldfish in his arms. She crossed her arms over her chest as a sudden chill passed through the Hall.
"His arm's supposed to be fucking 'sprained'," she muttered angrily to herself. "So how is he supposed to hold a fully-grown dog with a crippled arm?"
"Dumbledore obviously thinks he might," said Ron to Hermione.
"It's very lucky he picked tonight, you know," said Daphne as they climbed into their sleeping bags and propped themselves on their elbows to talk. "The one night you weren't in the tower. . . ."
"I reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run," said Ron. "Didn't realize it was Halloween. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here."
Hermione shuddered.
All around them, people were asking one another the same question: "How did he get in?"
"Maybe he knows how to Apparate," said a Ravenclaw a few feet away. "Just appear out of thin air, you know."
"Disguised himself, probably," said a Hufflepuff fifth year.
"He could've flown in," suggested Dean Thomas.
"But we would've seen him – we were in Hogsmeade, remember?" said a Slytherin fourth year thoughtfully. Dean's lip curled at her and she scoffed, mumbling as she turned the other way.
Y/N was appalled. She was only fact-checking him! Hermione did that all the time! And she wasn't even being mean about it!
She and Daphne exchanged looks; they were thinking the same thing.
"Honestly, am I the only person who's ever bothered to read Hogwarts: A History?" said Hermione crossly to their small group.
"Probably," said Blaise.
"Why?" asked Ron.
"Because the castle's protected by more than walls, you know," said Hermione. "There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can't just Apparate in here. And I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they'll have them covered. . . ."
"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"
The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars. What with that, and the whispering that still filled the hall, Y/N felt as though she were sleeping outdoors in a light wind.
Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the hall to check that everything was quiet. Y/N fell asleep quite quickly, but with a pinch of her nose, she awoke to Harry's face shushing her. Glaring, she checked her watch. It was three-fifteen in the morning. Harry subtly gestured to his ear, and raised his head slightly.
"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?" said the voice of Snape.
Dumbledore spoke, "Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next."
Y/N's stifled her yawn and furrowed her brows.
"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before – ah – the start of term?" said Snape quietly.
"I do, Severus," said Dumbledore, and there was something like warning in his voice.
"It seems – almost impossible – that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed –"
"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it," said Dumbledore, and his tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Snape didn't reply. "I must go down to the dementors," said Dumbledore. Y/N drifted in and out of sleep. "I said I would inform them when our search was complete."
"Didn't they want to help, sir?" said Percy.
"Oh, yes," said Dumbledore coldly. "But I'm afraid no dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am headmaster."
Y/N looked to Harry, carefully watching the stars from the ceiling reflecting in his eyes. Sighing, she shrugged and fluttered her eyes shut, falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.
The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder; Terry Boot, from Ravenclaw, spent much of their next Transfiguration class telling anyone who'd listen that Black could transfigure himself into a dove. Y/N thought this theory was bogus, only because doves weren't native to Scotland and someone would have spotted him.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione told them that the Fat Lady was replaced by Sir Cadogan, the knight they'd encountered trying to get to Divination. Theodore and Blaise found it very amusing and teased them for it, but Daphne felt bad. Y/N, however, thought he was only okay when spoken to in the right way. Although, she made it the least of her worries, as Quidditch season was looming nearer and nearer – and the first match was Gryffindor vs Slytherin, the most important match of the year.
And she would be damned if she lost the season her first year as Captain.