Chapter 12: Snake Among the Lions
Harry drifted very slowly towards the Gryffindor common room as his mind reeled with everything Professor McGonagall had just told him. He half-wondered why he had never bothered to ask anyone about his parents’ occupations, but also questioned why nobody had ever sought to tell him before. Once he was informed his father’s job, he had automatically asked what it was his mother had been. The answer had completely shocked him, and he still wasn’t sure what to feel: she had been an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries.
“Harry?” someone behind him squeaked.
Harry snapped out of his trance and turned to see Ron and Hermione standing behind him; the latter was looking very small and nervous.
“Hermione,” was all he replied with. “Ron…”
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, as she approached him and Ron remained silent where he was. “About trying to fool myself into believing working as an Unspeakable would be a good idea.”
Harry looked blankly back at her, barely aware of why she was even apologizing; his mind was somewhere else.
“Part of me thought it would help,” she continued, her voice breaking a little. “Help me to forget… I guess I didn’t consider how you would feel “ or Ron. It was selfish of me.”
Harry continued to look back at her, wordlessly.
“Harry, please say something…”
“It wasn’t selfish,” he said plainly. “I overreacted. I didn’t stop to think what reasons you might have. I’m sorry for all the things I said.”
Hermione cried as rushed up and threw her arms around him, taking him by surprise.
“You didn’t overreact “ I don’t blame you…It’s my fault; I’m stupid and insensitive…”
“Don’t blame yourself “ I’m sorry. I went over the line “ I’d never throw away our friendship…”
“I’m so sorry!”
“No “ I’m sorry…”
They stopped apologizing, looked at each other and gave small laughs. Ron smiled and began to approach the two of them.
“So we’re square?” Harry asked Hermione.
Hermione nodded and let out a deep breath.
“I would have apologized sooner… but I was too “”
“Scared? Hurt? Guilty?”
“How did you guess?”
“Cause that’s why I didn’t apologize, either.”
“That’s much better.” Ron said happily. “So how did your session with McGonagall go?”
“Oh, yeah…” Harry’s mind was brought back to the thoughts that had been swirling in his mind as he was wandering slowly back towards Gryffindor Tower.
“‘Oh yeah’ what?”
“I’m going to be a Defense professor, here at Hogwarts,” Harry told them.
“Really? That’s wonderful Harry!” she said excitedly.
“Brilliant,” said Ron. “But - what happened to being an Auror?”
“Well “ I figured I’ve fought enough dark wizards to last me a lifetime,” he replied. “But… that’s not all that McGonagall and I talked about…”
“What else?” Hermione asked quickly, already in clear anticipation the next bit of information Harry had to tell them.
“I found out that my dad taught Defense Against the Dark Arts here, too,” he said. “And he was the last one to keep the position for more than one year at a time.”
Ron’s eyes widened in surprise as he was rendered speechless, while Hermione looked fascinated as she usually would with any such kind of information. Harry then prepared himself to give tell them about his mother.
“My mum was an Unspeakable,” he said quietly.
“Oh “ Harry…” Hermione said, and automatically began to try and comfort him. “Well you know, with her it’s not really the same. It was before everything that happened.”
“Yeah mate, Unspeakables aren’t bad people,” Ron added. “Department of Mysteries just isn’t a place we need to think about, after…all that we went through that night.”
Harry just smiled solemnly. He knew it wasn’t a bad thing that Lily had been an Unspeakable; but after his fight with Hermione, it felt strange.
“You know Harry “ about that supposed ‘curse’ on the Defense Professor post?” Hermione said, smiling softly. “I bet it was just waiting for the right person to take you father’s place.”
It’s good to have Hermione back, Harry thought.
----------
With Harry and Hermione’s argument resolved, Ron automatically began pushing that the three of them actually get started on learning more about what ways Harry could fulfill the prophecy and defeat Voldemort.
In the meantime, Harry and Hermione also began focusing on what Ron was hiding from them, as his sleep-deprivation was clearly getting to him as he strived to occupy his time with more and more responsibilities and activities.
“Ron suggested today that we start visiting Grawp with Hagrid!” Hermione told Harry urgently Monday evening as they met in the common room before dinner. “He’s gone mad!”
Harry’s mind went numb from this piece of information, barely aware of how to respond.
“How long will that sleep substitute allow him to go without sleep?” Harry asked warily.
“As long as he lives,” Hermione told him. “But he’ll practically be a living zombie; his subconscious feelings and imaginings will start to blend with his conscious reality.”
“Errr…”
“He’ll stop realizing the difference between dreams and real life,” Hermione explained. “He’ll be confused and disoriented, and he’ll begin to hallucinate.”
“Oh,” Harry said shortly. “Well that’s not good.”
“I have a plan, though,” Hermione told him.
“Not surprising at all, what is it?”
“I’m putting a sleeping potion in his pumpkin juice tonight,” she said simply.
“Errr… Hermione, that’s not such a good “ ”
“I don’t care. He needs to sleep. I don’t care if he gets mad. I don’t care if he yells and stomps…”
“What if he has a good reason for not sleeping? What if it’s dangerous?” Harry asked her.
“It’s very clear that he just doesn’t want to sleep. I don’t know what his reason is “ but at least if he’s mad, he might tell us.”
“I’m not entirely comfortable with this.”
“Well get comfortable “ because I need you to distract him.”
“Ready to go to dinner?” Ron’s voice said from the boys’ stairwell.
Harry gave Hermione one more uncertain look before turned to Ron as he approached the two of them.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
The three of them left the common room and Harry grew more anxious with each step towards the Great Hall. He wasn’t sure if forcing Ron to sleep was the best idea. Of course, he had been tetchy on many of Hermione’s ‘plans’ before, but they had all worked out in the end “ though some just barely.
Harry remained silent for the entire walk downstairs, while Ron talked happily of something and Hermione listened politely as she threw Harry furtive looks.
“Miss your mum, Murphy?” a snotty voice asked from close by.
They had reached the Entrance Hall, and Harry glanced over to see Pansy Parkinson surrounded by several of her Slytherin friends, all cruelly laughing at Siobhan, who was glaring back coldly.
“Shove it, Parkinson,” she said simply.
Pansy just gave her a dirty look before signaling her group to move into the Great Hall, and they all followed obediently, throwing smirks back at Siobhan, who was left standing by herself with a distant look.
“Go ahead -I’ll follow you in a minute,” Harry muttered to Ron and Hermione.
They nodded and left him as he approached Siobhan.
“You okay?” he asked carefully.
“What’s it to you, Potter?” she said defensively.
“Believe it or not, I actually care…”
She didn’t say anything, but merely looked back as though unsure of how to react.
“I know you miss her…” he said quietly.
“No. I don’t,” she said coldly.
“Siobhan, you don’t have to pretend “”
“I’m not pretending,” she said, not looking him in the eye. “Remember when I asked you if you thought she deserved it?”
“Actually “ you accused me of thinking that.”
“Whatever,” she said indifferently. “She did deserve it.”
“She was your mother,” Harry said.
“It doesn’t make her any better than the other bastards who follow him… and kill people for horrible reasons.”
Harry remained quiet; he didn’t know Siobhan well enough to know quite how to respond to anything she said.
“Do you know why I don’t have any friends, Potter?”
“Errr… you’re not a people person?” he answered uncomfortably
She gave a small laugh as her eyes darted up to the ceiling; he noticed her bottom lip was quivering.
“The other houses don’t like the Slytherins, so that’s out,” she said, sounding as though she was dedicating every ounce of self-control to not crying. “And I don’t get along with the other Slytherins in my year because I don’t support the Death Eaters or anything they stand for; I don’t believe in the blood purity crap, and I don’t think that murder and terror is acceptable means of getting what you want.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you in Slytherin?” Harry asked, pushing aside the fact that he was just a little frightened of her.
“That’s where the hat put me, isn’t it?” she answered vehemently. “I don’t deny I’m ambitious, Potter. I just wouldn’t kill to get what I want. I have morals, you know… but I guess you’re right, aren’t you? It must have put me there for some reason. I guess I wasn’t cut out for any of the better houses.”
Harry felt he may have pushed the wrong button, and immediately set out to fix his mistake.
“The hat wanted to put me into Slytherin…” he told her, surprised at his honesty; it wasn’t something he had ever told anyone besides Dumbledore. “But I begged to be put anywhere else…”
“You don’t seem like a Slytherin…”
“I think we all a have a bit of Slytherin in us,” he answered.
She didn’t reply, but saw a hint of a smile as Siobhan looked down at her feet.
“You should go to dinner, Potter.”
“And where are you going?”
“Dinner, obviously,” she said. “Having no friends doesn’t stop me from eating.”
“You wanna sit with us?”
“Funny,” Siobhan scoffed.
“Really.”
She surveyed him appraisingly, a flicker of uncertainty cast across her snow-white face for a split-second. She then raised her eyebrow and smiled coolly.
“Alright then…” she said, as though bored.
They walked into the Great Hall together, about halfway down the Gryffindor table to where Ron and Hermione sat and took their seats across from them. Harry noticed a few heads from the Ravenclaw table turn to watch as the surrounding Gryffindors fell silent and stared at Siobhan. Her green and silver tie stood out from the mass of red and gold. After a few moments, the Gryffindor silence was overtaken by curious whispers, none of which Siobhan seemed to notice; or at least she didn’t seem bothered.
“Siobhan Murphy, isn’t it?” Hermione asked warmly, sticking out her hand. “Hermione Granger.”
Siobhan seemed to find Hemione’s formalities somewhat odd, but shook her hand anyway.
“Yeah, I know,” she said casually.
Hermione beamed at her, and when no one said anything, she gave Ron a rather violent nudge.
“I’m Ron,” he said to Siobhan, nodding politely and returning to his corned beef.
“You look awful,” Siobhan said.
“Excushmeem?” Ron said a piece of beef hanging out of his mouth.
“You look absolutely dreadful “ when’s the last time you slept?”
“Yes, Ron “ when is the last time you slept?” Hermione asked quickly.
“Last night,” he said defensively.
Hermione eyed him skeptically, while Siobhan shrugged and took a swig of pumpkin juice. Over the course of the next half-hour Hermione kept giving meaningful glances to Harry as she gestured to Ron; in response Harry shot a wary look back at her with a tiny head shake. Ron seemed almost entirely out if it and took no notice, while Siobhan plowed through her food without a word to anyone; Harry figured six years of eating alone had prevented her from becoming much of a social eater. By this point there were at least a dozen students in the Great Hall eyeing the four of them at any given time, obviously all curious as to what a Slytherin was going at the Gryffindor table “ with Harry, Ron, and Hermione nonetheless.
Suddenly Ron’s head jerked up towards Harry, and with a very pained expression he whispered: “Aurora’s dead?” A moment later, he returned to his food as though nothing had happened.
Hermione and Harry stopped their battle of facial expressions and turned to him. Harry felt as though he had frozen, while Hermione looked confused. At that exact moment, Harry decided it was time to go through with Hermione’s plan.
He reached his hand to get his pumpkin juice, hitting Ron’s goblet as he did so and knocking it over, it’s contents pouring all over the table.
“Evanesco,” Hermione said quickly, before the juice spilled over the edge onto their laps.
“Sorry about that, mate,” Harry said, as Hermione picked up the pitcher of pumpkin juice and poured Ron a fresh goblet, setting it down in front of him. Harry never noticed her add the potion in, but knew she must have because she gave him a small affirmative nod.
“S’alright, I’m not thirsty…” Ron said.
Harry groaned inwardly, while Hermione rolled her eyes in agitation. However, out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Siobhan point her wand just over the table at Ron’s plate; she then muttered something very quietly and returned her wand to her pocket.
Harry eyed her quizzically.
“What?” she asked, her pale green eyes twinkling slightly, but no trace of a smile on her lips.
“Ow! “ hot, hot!” Ron cried, fanning his mouth; he quickly reached for his goblet of freshly poured pumpkin juice and downed the entire thing.
“Something wrong?” asked Hermione, genuinely concerned, though she was unable to hide hersatisfied smile as she watched him finish his goblet.
“Since when is the corned beef served spicy?” Ron asked, drinking the remains of Hermione’s juice, too.
“Mine’s perfectly fine,” Hermione said.
“Mine, too,” Siobhan agreed.
“Same with mine, mate,” Harry said, adding the smallest of grins to Siobhan, feeling very glad he had invited the Slytherin to sit with them.
After Hermione’s plan “ or at least the first phase “ was completed, the four of them left the Great Hall. Ron, Harry, and Hermione said good night to Siobhan and exhaustedly pulled themselves up the stairways and through the corridors towards Gryffindor Tower.
Once inside the common room Ron traipsed up the stairs of the boys’ dormitory to have a ‘lie-down’.
“Keep an eye on him,” Hermione said to Harry, and he quickly followed in Ron’s wake.
Once upstairs he found Ron already fast asleep in his bed; Harry took a seat on his own bed and began to work on his latest Potions essay while observing Ron closely. He did not toss, or even mumble or stir in the slightest, as was usual for Ron. He just slept.
About two hours later, when Harry had finished his essay and had almost fallen asleep himself, Ron had still not stirred. For this reason, Harry was very startled when Ron gave a violent turn and swatted something with his arm.
Harry looked up, alert, and watched as Ron gave a few more violent turns, and his robe was pulled off from his arms. He tossed a few more times before he began to shout.
“It’s his fault she’s dead! She shouldn’t have died! She was innocent “ this is his fault!”
Harry rushed over to Ron and tried to shake him awake.
“It’s his fault! I don’t care who held the wand! It was him who took her life!”
“Ron!”
“I hope he rots in Azkaban for this!”
“RON!”
Harry gave him a violent shake, and Ron’s eyes shot open as he drew in a sharp breath and sat up.
“What happened?” Ron whimpered. “How did I fall asleep?”
Harry didn’t answer; instead he stared at Ron’s arm where he had been wounded by brains that had wrapped their thoughts around him over a year ago in the Department of Mysteries, leaving deeply embedded scars “ which at that moment were glowing a bright, vivid red.