Chapter 35: School's Back InSummary:Once again, Hazel makes things happen, and once again she's not sure she can handle the results.
Chapter TextThe rest of the holidays flew by, and before she knew it, it was time to return to Hogwarts. She had her stuff packed up, Hedwig had already flown ahead, she was back in her school robes; good to go. "I'll see you soon, Sirius," she said as she hugged him. "Only a couple months until summer!"
"Yep." He hugged her back and grinned. "The old place should be ready for you by then."
"Awesome." She turned to the fireplace, took a pinch of Floo powder and threw it down. "Hogwarts!" she called as she stepped into the flames. There was the usual spinning and whirling, the glimpses of other fireplaces and living rooms, and eventually she slowed down and came to a stop in Professor Dumbledore's office.
Dumbledore himself seemed to be out, but there was Fawkes on his stand, and the portraits of old Headmasters snoozing on the walls. "Hello, Fawkes," she said softly, crossing the room toward the phoenix. He crooned in reply, and she reached up to stroke his magnificent plumage.
Behind her the door swung open, and she turned to see who it was. "Good morning, Headmaster," she said with a bow, when she saw it was Dumbledore.
"And the same to you, my dear," he replied, bowing in turn. "Ready to get back into the swing of things?"
"No." Fawkes crooned again and butted her hand, and she giggled as she reached up to pet him some more. "Fawkes likes me, I think."
"He certainly seems to." He crossed to his desk and sat down. "I have unfortunate news regarding Slytherin's locket, before you leave."
"Oh?" She crossed the room to stand before the desk. "What's the matter, sir?"
"It will not open," he said simply. "Severus and I are quite certain a Parselmouth such as yourself could open it, but there is much uncertainty yet regarding the alterations made by Voldemort. And there are events in the future that will occupy all our time and attention, even to the exclusion of such a matter as this."
"What could be more important than stopping Voldemort and curtailing his influence, sir?"
"I cannot say." There was a twinkle in his blue eyes, though. "You will find out for yourself in due time, however. Next term will be quite exciting for us all!"
"I see." More mysteries, she realized with an internal groan.
Perhaps sensing her mood, the Headmaster raised a placating hand. "You have my highest assurances that it does not concern you or your endeavors, Hazel. You need not fret about it, though you might peruse the Daily Prophet in the coming months."
"Thank you, sir. I'll take my leave then." She bowed again and turned to leave, eager for the common room after so long away. She had to talk to Draco right away.
Fortunately he came in not long after she did, and she waved him over. "Hey Hazel, what's up?" he asked as he came over and fell into the seat by hers.
"Draco, I'm not sure if you're aware yet or not, but Sirius made me Heir to the House of Black," she explained, showing him her ring. "And he had you excluded from any claim to it, as well."
"Did he? That's his right as Lord Black, I suppose." He shrugged and revealed his own Heir ring. "I'm set for inheritances anyway, so don't worry about offending me. I wouldn't have wanted the Black legacy anyway, even you should know what sort of reputation they had."
"Yeah, well, reputations can be repaired," she countered, dismissing the ring. "Now come on, let's get a little studying done before the shit show starts back up."
The rhythm of classes was easy to get back into, even if she had a new obsession to worry over. She became adept at eating with one hand and flipping through the Prophet with the other; the only big upcoming event she caught wind of this way was the Quidditch World Cup, which England would be hosting.
Predictably, Quidditch practice was taken over by talk of the World Cup. "Who cares about a House Cup when the World Cup is up for grabs this year?" Blaise demanded, to loud cheers from their teammates.
"Worry about the World Cup when you're playing for it," Flint growled, somewhat half-heartedly. "We've gotta be ready for Hufflepuff, you lot, Diggory's put a hell of a team together for the final match in May!"
"And they've been practicing like mad too, just like us!" Hazel added. "We can't rely on knocking them off their brooms either, he's got a full slate of reserves ready to go!"
"What if I took out Diggory himself?" Millicent asked, flexing with her bat.
"Zacharias Smith would probably take over, he's not a player to sneeze at," Flint replied. "Enough jabber! Get up in the air, all of you!"
Hazel took off with her teammates, glad to be done with catching the Gryffindor team up to speed for next year. With the final coming up she had to get back into the groove of being a team player instead of a coach, though it wasn't a hard groove to find thankfully. All she had to do was fly her heart out and catch the Snitch as quickly as she could, Slytherin had a lead a mile wide so they didn't have to worry about points so much.
After practice she did a little math, and had to laugh. "Hey Flint, get a load of this," she called. "We could lose by two hundred points next month and still get that Cup! Can you believe that shit?"
"I sure can," he said proudly. "But don't think you can slack off because of that! We're a well oiled machine, we are!"
Later, Ron caught her looking in a borrowed copy of the Daily Prophet for ticket prices to the Cup, and he pulled the paper out of her grasp. "Never mind that, dad reckons he can get free tickets at work," he told her in a whisper. "He's good friends with Ludo Bagman after all."
"Ludo who?" she replied, glancing around to make sure no one was listening.
"Ludo Bagman! He used to play Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps, now he's Head of the, uh, Department of Magical Games and Sports!"
"That's a mouthful," she countered dryly. But who was she to say no to free tickets?
April wore on, Hazel doing her best to pace herself against the mountain of homework every night. She had already decided she would drop Astronomy as soon as she could, and was debating History of Magic as well; all Binns ever did was lecture off his old notes, she was always ahead in that class anyway thanks to her habit of reading so much. Divination too; as much as she felt bad for Trelawney, there was no denying she wasn't a very good teacher anymore.
The rest of her classes were too interesting to let go of. Arithmancy was a lot of math, but she couldn't wait for the more advanced ideas, like the inherent power of certain numbers. And Professor Weasley was way too good at teaching for her to give up his class, too. Magical creatures were fascinating!
Her best core subjects were still Charms, Potions and Defense, of course, and she anticipated acing those classes well into her seventh year at Hogwarts. Herbology she was decent at, since it was a practical and hands-on class, and Transfiguration was challenging and deceptively useful for everyday life; she was always surprised at just how many domestic "household" spells fell under the Transfiguration umbrella.
Dropping Muggle Studies never even crossed her mind either, and not just because of her adolescent feelings for Professor Burbage. She wanted to see the looks on the pureblood students' faces when they got into the real stuff she had to teach them, about the Statute of Secrecy and the real reasons why they were in hiding from Muggles.
She got a bit of a preview of that when she put her hand up one day. "Professor, what's an Obscurial?"
Professor Burbage went quite still for a moment, and Hazel thought she could detect a hint of sadness. "Where did you hear that word, Miss Potter?" she replied, in an entirely too neutral tone.
"My godfather mentioned it in passing," Hazel said with a shrug. It was true, after a fashion.
"Well, that isn't a subject we cover until much later, but since you asked." She took a deep breath and gazed across the classroom. "An Obscurial is a young witch or wizard who, through trauma or deliberate conditioning, attempts to suppress their magic through fear or shame," she said slowly. "The suppressed magic will eventually break free, as a dark and parasitic force known as an Obscurus. Mere mistreatment cannot create an Obscurus, only prolonged and deliberate torture meant to evoke feelings of alienation and repression."
Hazel glanced back; the rest of the class, even the purebloods, were hanging off every word. She didn't blame them, it was rather horrifying to consider.
The Professor kept speaking: "Some of you may think only Muggles could inflict such horrors, but this is not true. You-Know-Who was himself known to kidnap very young Muggle-born witches and wizards and subject them to the Cruciatus Curse, among many other awful things, attempting to force the creation of Obscurials."
"Why would he do such a thing?" Hermione whispered, blinking back tears.
"An Obscurus, once unleashed, is horrendously destructive, especially if the Obscurial that spawned them had great potential themselves. New York City was itself nearly destroyed in 1927 because of an especially powerful Obscurus, in fact, and the American magical government was hard-pressed to undo the damage and modify so many Muggle memories."
"Did Vol- You-Know-Who believe he could control them, then?" Hazel asked.
"That, I cannot say." The professor shook her head and cleared her throat, clearly attempting to get back into her previous mood. "We are escaping the scope of this class, however. Shall we get back on topic?" There was a general murmur of assent and relief, and Hazel determined to do her own research later. If she had time.
It was May before Luna could report any progress regarding Trelawney, and it wasn't a very cheerful report. "Hazel, I'm very worried about Professor Trelawney," she reported at dinner, sounding oddly urgent. "You've noticed it too, right? She's not herself, I don't think it's nargles anymore but I can't tell what else it could be!"
"Let's go check on her after we're done eating," Hazel decided quickly. Luna nodded and went back to her table, and she caught Draco's eye. "Eavesdropping, as usual?"
"It's a common table, Hazel," he retorted. "I'm going with you."
"Fine by me." There'd be witnesses at least, and Draco was almost as good at things as she was.
Hazel finished eating and stood up, followed shortly by Draco. As one they moved out of the Great Hall, quickly joined by Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Luna. They went straight for Trelawney's tower, and Hazel pushed the trapdoor open so they could head up.
It was dark in the tower room; all the windows were shuttered and curtained, and the only light was a low fire in the grate. "Professor Trelawney?" Hazel called, making room for the others. "Professor, are you here?"
"Check that map of yours, Hazel," Ron muttered, peering into the darkness.
"Right. Keep watch, all of you." She went to a desk and spread the map out, tapping it and muttering the phrase; all of Hogwarts lit up beneath her, and she focused on the tower. "There's the lot of us, and there's Trelawney, she's in her chambers," she said, putting the map away again.
Ron and Draco went to check, lighting their wands. "Professor, are you okay?" Ron called. "Why are you on the floor?"
"Wha?" the professor replied, her voice sounding slurred and drowsy. "Who…? Weatherby, is tha…?"
"Get up, Professor, come on," Ron replied, and there was a shifting and a rustling. Shortly they all appeared, Draco in the lead and Ron helping Trelawney down the stairs.
"She looks awful," Hermione said in a low voice. "Is she feverish?"
Ron checked. "Wow, yeah, she sure is. Wonder what's got into her?"
"We need to get her down to Madam Pomfrey immediately," Hazel decided. "She'll know what to do."
"Come on, Professor, let's get you some help," Luna said soothingly, helping the boys to move her. Trelawney was practically insensate and in no condition to resist, but she was still drawn to the sound of Luna's voice. Getting her through the trapdoor and down the steps was rough, but they managed it with some quick spellwork.
"Ginny, you run ahead and let Madam Pomfrey know what's happening," Hazel said. "If you see any of the other Professors, let them know too." Ginny nodded and dashed off, and the others kept leading Trelawney along.
Soon enough there came a familiar shuffling and wheezing, and Filch came upon them from around a corner. "What's all this then?" he growled, holding his lantern up. "Kidnapping a teacher! I'll have the lot of you expelled, I will!"
"We're not kidnapping anyone, you old wanker, she's sick," Hazel retorted sharply. "Now help out or clear off!"
"What'd you call me!" he roared, but the arrival of Ginny and Snape cut that thought off. "Professor! I caught this lot kidnapping Sybill!"
"Nothing of the sort, Argus." He made eye contact with Hazel, and she pushed the memory of the past twenty minutes to the front of her mind. Sure enough, he peered in quickly, and withdrew with a nod. "Escort her to Professor McGonagall's office, not the hospital wing."
"Right away, sir." McGonagall's office was much closer, she realized quickly. "Let's go, you lot."
Chapter 36: The Truth About Professor TrelawneySummary:Hazel doesn't know when to stop pushing!
Chapter TextMcGonagall was waiting for them, as was Madam Pomfrey. "Lay her down here," Pomfrey said as soon as they were inside, gesturing to a raised cot. "You boys clear off now." Filch and the boys shuffled out of the room, and Hazel helped Trelawney to the cot. "Pull those scarves off her head!"
No sooner was Hazel's hand tugging on the end of one than Trelawney suddenly came to life. "No!" she snarled, seizing her hand and pushing it away. "W-Where am I? What have you done with me?"
"Peace, Sybill, you are ill," McGonagall replied calmly. "I don't know how these students came to find you, but you're quite feverish."
"She was totally out of it until I tried pulling her scarves off," Hazel noted, wand drawn.
"No time to play nice! Diffindo!" Pomfrey said, and the scarves split asunder before a flick of her wand threw them aside. Trelawney squealed and tried to hide her forehead, but it was too late. "There's something around her head!"
"Petrificus Totalus!" Hazel snapped, and Trelawney fell back to the cot, stiff as a board. "It's a circlet of some kind!"
"It looks like Ravenclaw's Diadem," Luna said after looking more closely. "See, Hazel, remember from that bust I gave you? How did you find it, Professor?"
"It has hardly done what it supposedly does," McGonagall noted. She waved her wand and a silvery tabby cat appeared. "Come to my office immediately, Filius!" she commanded, and the cat streaked away.
Hardly a minute went by before the fireplace flared green, and the diminutive form of Professor Flitwick emerged. "Oh my!" he said as he took in the scene. "What's the matter with Sybill?"
"We're hoping you could tell us, Filius," McGonagall said tersely.
"Right you are, Minerva." He conjured a stepladder with a casual flick of his wand and clambered up to get a closer look. "Why, this isn't-!" He stopped and peered more closely, falling silent for several moments.
"Filius?" Snape asked quietly.
"...It's a fake," Flitwick said eventually, sighing. "Plain steel, though still strongly enchanted. If it were truly the Lost Diadem it would be goblin-wrought silver." He tapped it with his wand and plucked it straight off her brow. "It should be destroyed, no?"
"Let us determine what sort of enchantments it bears, so that we may better cleanse Sybill of their influences," McGonagall suggested. She and Snape took up positions to either end of Trelawney's cot, and Madam Pomfrey stood opposite Flitwick; together they raised their wands and began murmuring diagnostic spells as the diadem hovered between them.
Hazel tried to listen and overhear the spells, but all she could really hear was Ginny and Hermione fidgeting restlessly, and Luna humming.
A minute later the four adults ceased, and with a flick of his wand, Snape shattered the false diadem into dust. "The enchantments broke as soon as the diadem was lifted from her head," he explained for the students. "The Headmaster will have the final say, but I presume Divination will be canceled for the rest of the semester as Sybill recovers from long-term Dark spell exposure."
"No skin off my nose," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "I wonder where the real diadem is?"
"It is Lost, of course," Flitwick said with a chuckle. "Thirty points for each of your Houses for helping save a teacher! Now, I'm sure you all have homework to do, yes?" He hopped down to the floor and banished the stepladder as easily as he had conjured it, and disappeared through the fireplace with a cry of "Flitwick's office!" and a green flare.
"Quite right, back to your common rooms, the lot of you," McGonagall agreed, while Madam Pomfrey conjured a stretcher and levitated Trelawney's unconscious form onto it. Hazel and her friends ducked out of the office, and filled in Ron and Draco on the way to their dorms.
Once back in their own common room, Draco shook his head. "You think she'll be a better teacher once she recovers?"
"I'm sure she will," Hazel replied. "I've heard she used to be competent when she first started working here, and about eight years ago her performance started slipping. I'm sure it was when she found that false diadem." They sat down and did homework until curfew, and Hazel did her routine and went to bed with a smile on her face.
Two days later that feeling still hadn't faded, but a bit of news certainly put a dent in it. Malfoy Patriarch Released from Prison! screamed the latest headline. There was Lucius, looking gaunt and underfed but still as arrogant as ever.
"Please have sense, Father," Draco muttered to himself when he saw the picture. "Please, for once in your life, put your family first!"
"Somehow I doubt he'll be doing any such thing," Hazel replied grimly, glancing through the rest of the article. "Supposedly he's claimed to have a new insight on conditions inside Azkaban and a better feeling for who really belongs there, and is going to start a campaign to have innocent witches and wizards set free."
"More like get his old Death Eater pals set free," Millicent said, rolling her eyes. "No offense, Draco, but your dad's a right git!"
"None taken." He looked ill and even paler than usual, and Hazel figured he was thinking of the time Lucius failed to do anything about his son being placed under the Imperius Curse. She knew that a man who wouldn't even do that, had no chance of renouncing his ways.
That evening she and Luna went to see Trelawney in the hospital wing. "Madam Pomfrey, is Professor Trelawney awake?" she asked of the matron.
"She is, and quite eager to be out of bed," she confirmed. "Headmaster's orders are that she stays here the rest of the semester though, so we can keep her under watch. I'm allowing visitors for now, but keep it quiet!"
They entered the wing and crossed to Trelawney's bed, though Hazel had trouble recognizing her at first. All her shawls were gone, and she had short hair and a sharp expression on her face. "Potter and Lovegood, I see," she said, cocking an eyebrow at them. "Suppose I owe you both my thanks."
"It was our pleasure, Professor," Luna said happily, sitting down on the bed and taking her hand. "What do you remember?"
"Everything!" Trelawney snapped, rolling her eyes. "Merlin curse that fucking diadem." She cleared her throat. "Oops, shouldn't swear around students."
"I don't give a shit," Hazel replied absently. "Swear all you want, I say!"
That brought a chuckle. "I'd heard you were a potty-mouth, Potter, and I guess it was true. Keep a lid on it in class and I won't give a damn, got that?"
"Yes ma'am. I'm pretty good about it usually." It was her turn to roll her eyes. "So what's to do in here all day?"
"Nothing, honestly. It kinda sucks." The talk meandered elsewhere after that, and Hazel spaced out, thinking about an essay for Muggle Studies she could work on in her new free period.
"Profes- ouch! Professor, let go!" Luna was saying suddenly, and Hazel came back to the present to see Trelawney with her eyes rolled clear back in her head, and one hand clutching Luna's arm so tightly she was in pain, struggling to break free. "Hazel, help!"
But before she could do more than reach for her wand, Trelawney opened her mouth and began speaking! "It will happen soon!" she intoned in a strange, harsh voice, her whole body shaking. "The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Before three days have passed the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than ever he was! Within three days... the servant... will set out to rejoin... his master!"
Then she drew a great, rattling breath and fell back on the pillows, her grasp on Luna finally loosening. "Was that a prophecy?" Hazel muttered, staring at the insensate witch. "Luna, are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Luna panted, cradling her wrist. "Should we-?"
"-nothing to worry about, dear girl," Trelawney said suddenly, shooting upright and talking like the past couple minutes hadn't happened. "Divination is- what? What are you looking that way for?"
She didn't remember what just happened, Hazel realized. "You fell asleep for a moment, that's all," she improvised. "You must be more worn out than you realize, Professor."
"Nonsense, I feel fine." She must have seen something in their faces, though, because she sniffed and leaned back again. "Though now that you mention it, I do feel a bit ragged. Have Poppy bring us some tea, would you?"
Hazel got up to leave, wondering what the hell she had just seen. "Professor Trelawney wants a spot of tea," she mentioned to the matron on her way out. Dumbledore would know what to do, she realized, and made her way straight to the Headmaster's office.
When she got there she realized she didn't know the password, and started guessing Muggle sweets, hoping to get the right one. The gargoyle leaped aside at "York patties!" and she took the steps two at a time. "Professor! Professor, I need to t-"
She barged in and stopped short, seeing several people were already in the office. Dumbledore was seated behind his desk; sitting in front of him was a short man with gray hair and rumpled brown robes, who was currently twisting a lime green bowler hat in his hands; next to him was a tall fellow in ill-fitting robes and a bouncy expression on his boyish face.
"Er." Unsure what to do next, Hazel hovered in the doorway, trying not to blush too brightly.
"Is it terribly urgent, Hazel?" Dumbledore asked calmly.
"Yes sir! Most awfully urgent, sir!"
"Very well." He turned to the other two. "Minister, Mr Bagman, if you would step outside please?"
"Righto!" the boyish fellow blustered, bouncing to his feet and almost skipping for the door. He caught her eye and winked, but didn't say anything else as he slipped by her.
The older man followed in his wake and paused as he drew by. "Hazel Potter, is it?" he asked kindly, offering his hand and a gentle smile. "Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic." His hand was sweaty, she noticed as she shook it quickly and tried to smile back. He grimaced and slipped outside, shutting the door behind him.
"I'm terribly sorry, sir," she began as she crossed the room to stand before his desk.
"Not at all, a Headmaster's first duty is always to his students," he replied with a twinkle. "You had some urgent business, I believe?"
"Yes sir. Luna and I were seeing Professor Trelawney when she went… well, she went strange, sir. Her voice went harsh and she was…" She trailed off, trying to think of the right word.
"Entranced, perhaps?" he guessed.
"Yes sir, exactly." What were the words she had used?
Perhaps guessing her confusion, he stood up and drew his wand. "It would be simpler to let me see for myself, Hazel, if you would consent to open your mind to me," he said. She nodded and relaxed her Occlumency, letting the memory of Trelawney's episode rise to the fore. "Legilimens!" he said, and the whole event flashed before her vision once more, the strange harsh words echoing in her mind's hearing…
"What you heard was a Prophecy, Hazel," he explained after withdrawing, his demeanor apprehensive to her. "To my knowledge this is the second true prediction Sybill Trelawney has ever made, though it may be the most immediately alarming of the two."
"What could it mean, sir?"
"The obvious answer is that Peter Pettigrew will soon escape," he mused aloud. "In the immediate I feel we must ensure Azkaban is secure, so perhaps it is good that Cornelius is here for once."
"Sir, I saw in the paper, about Lucius Malfoy and his new, er, campaign…"
"Yes, he has very little time to achieve anything before the scandal of his divorce consumes the tabloids, along with his reputation and all his attention. And this prophecy makes it all the more alarming." He looked tired for a second, then shook his head. "Thank you very much for bringing this to my attention, Hazel, but for now I must ask you to step out so I can resume my conference with Ludo and Cornelius. I promise you, I will do all I can to act upon this knowledge when the time is right."
"Thank you sir." She bowed and stepped away, opening the door to leave. The two men were still waiting there, and she nodded to them as she stepped to the stairs. They nodded back and reentered the room as the steps took her down to the hallway.
Chapter 37: Everything is HIS Fault!Summary:At last, Hazel learns who's fault it is, whether she wants to or not.
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextTwo days went by with no news, and Hazel was starting to relax and focus on her studies once more. It really was a relief to have one less class, and she had to regretfully conclude that dropping one permanently would be the best way forward. But she couldn't drop any core classes until sixth year! And that seemed so very far away…
On the evening of the second day she got a bad scare when Draco burst into the common room, waving a newspaper around. "Hazel? Hazel, are you in here?"
"Draco! I'm over here, you dork, calm down." In the same seat she always had.
"Hazel, you'll never believe it!" He threw the paper down before her, and her blood ran cold when she saw Lockhart's face beaming out at her. "Lockhart's been released!"
Instantly she thought of Hermione. "No fucking way! That miserable pervert again?" She grabbed the paper and flipped it open:
Our readers will recall the recent release of one Lord Lucius Malfoy from the confines of Azkaban, following his year-long sentence for endangering countless Hogwarts students with the misuse of dark artifacts. Our readers will further recall his vow to revisit the sentences of others imprisoned there, as a further penance for his sins!
Well, it has further developed that the first "revisiting" has occurred, and the very early release of one Gilderoy Lockhart has happened! Despite the surfeit of evidence in his case, Lord Malfoy's lawyers argued that since he had not used Dark Magic and could not be credibly accused of being a Death Eater, that his sentencing was unjust and should be overturned! And in an emergency vote that strained all credulity, a quorum of the Wizengamot seemed to agree with this logic!
Mr Lockhart gave a brief statement for the press at his release, where he avowed that he was a changed man and would not interfere in any manner whatever with the resolution and adjudication of his past crimes, and that he further intended to enter seclusion in search of a new path in life!
"Seclusion, my eye," Hazel growled, handing the paper to Millicent. "Locked up with all those Death Eaters, he's probably become one himself! And there's no way they reviewed ALL the evidence since Malfoy was released!" She doubted her friends knew what indoctrination was, though. "Whatever, we can't let this stop us." She focused very hard on her Occlumency, and got through the night's homework despite the dread curdling her guts.
Everything went out the window the next morning, however. Hazel took one look at the front page of the Prophet and screamed, for blinking slyly back at her was the rat-like face of Peter Pettigrew! Pettigrew Escapes Dementors! the headline blared, though it took her several seconds to comprehend the words.
Naturally her outburst drew attention, and those nearest saw the headline for themselves. A ripple of muttering and discontent spread out rapidly, but Hazel couldn't spare any attention. She didn't bother reading the article; she knew, she knew that Malfoy and Lockhart were involved somehow.
She went through the day in a fugue state, hardly taking anything in. Her classmates tried to comfort her, the Professors weren't sure what to say and defaulted to carrying on like normal. Exams seemed far away, something for others to care about; all she could comprehend was that the two men who most wanted to cause her harm had escaped the supposedly inviolate prison that was supposed to keep them away from her forever.
It wasn't until someone used Legilimency on her that she was roused from her stupor; she felt the tickle of a foreign mind, snarled and lashed out, easily pushing the intruder back with Occlumency before it could get hold of anything sensitive. "Who the fu-?!"
"Easy, Hazel!" a boy's voice replied sharply, as someone hit her over the head. "You've been catatonic all day, it's about time you woke up!"
"Draco?" she demanded, instinctively putting her back against a wall in case she was surrounded. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
The pale blonde boy stood before her, the rest of her friends in a loose circle. "I just told you, you've been sleep-walking all day," he growled, putting his wand away. "Now wake the hell up already! Potions is next and Snape won't tolerate any slacking!"
"Wanker," she muttered, flipping him off.
After dinner, Draco pulled her away from the others. "We're going to Snape's office," he told her. "Some practice will do us good."
"Not a bad idea," she agreed, following him down. They knocked at the door, and it let them in. "Good evening, Professor."
"Potter. Malfoy." For once he had no funny potions to brew or papers to grade. Though judging by the used tableware, he must have eaten while wrapping up his affairs. "Your outburst at breakfast was quite alarming, Miss Potter."
"Yeah well, I'm sure you know why," she muttered, not meeting his eyes. "Lockhart AND Pettigrew in two days? Trelawney's prophecy already came true!"
"You are not here to discuss prophecies, Potter." He cleared the room with a sweep of his wand. "What do you intend to DO about it?"
"Me?!" She couldn't believe his words! "How is it any business of mine?! It's the Ministry's problem, THEY can fix it!"
"The Ministry has other problems to deal with," Snape said tersely. "The Quidditch World Cup, for one."
"You said problem s, sir, what else are they-?" Draco began.
Snape cut him off, though. "You will find out later. Our priority now is to prepare for the possibility of Pettigrew finding Potter. He is a cunning agent of the Dark Lord, and if Trelawney's words are correct, he will be seeking to aid his master."
"There you are then! He'll be too busy ferreting around for Voldemort to bother with me!" she snarled, beyond caring about their reactions to that name. "I'll be ready for him if he comes anywhere near me!"
"How will you spot him, Potter? He can assume the shape of a rat, he can get anywhere a rat can reach! Where are you safe?"
"At Hogwarts," she said immediately. "Probably my aunt and uncle's house. The old Black house and the Burrow, too?"
"Can you really guarantee you will confine yourself strictly to those places?" he pressed, his black gaze boring into hers.
"I don't- what are you getting at, Professor?!" she snapped. "Quit talking in circles and say what you wanna say!" His eyes glittered dangerously, and she realized her mistake. "Er, please. Sir."
"What I am getting at, Potter," he went on in a low voice, "is that you need a plan. You need to be able to recognize Pettigrew no matter what shape he takes. How will you do that?"
She thought furiously for a moment. "Sirius and Professor Lupin would know if he has any tells," she thought out loud. "I'll have my wand with me at all times, of course. And there's bound to be an exception in the underage laws regarding self defense, right? I can't just let a creep like him come at me without responding!"
"I know you have more than magic at your disposal, Potter." Snape's temper died as quickly as it flared up, and she wondered if he had truly been angry at all. "He will be weak from imprisonment for some time, in magic and in body."
"Okay, so I won't have anything to worry about over the summer," she reasoned. "Lockhart and Malfoy won't dare show their faces at the World Cup, and there's no way in hell I'm missing that. Pettigrew will be licking his wounds and trying to get back in shape for some time too."
"There's always a chance of riots, you know," Draco added, "Death Eaters could incite one and use it as cover if they wanted to."
"So I run away from the riots and hide, then!" She rolled her eyes. "And once I'm back at Hogwarts for the next term I'll be just as safe, so seriously, what's the issue here?"
"Did you make all that up or was that already your plan?" Draco asked skeptically.
"Never mind," Snape cut in. "It is sufficient that you have a plan in place, however lacking it may be. Malfoy, you will be too preoccupied with incoming family drama over the summer, I suspect, and your mother will keep you safe regardless. Now." He gestured for them to stand before him. "I wish to assess whether you have maintained Occlumency, and to test what skill you have at Legilimency."
Hazel knew she had, at least, and she passed his test adequately. And so did Draco, when his turn came moments later. "Very well. Now, Miss Potter, you will attempt to enter my mind."
"W-What?" she stammered back, certain she had heard him wrong.
"Do not make me repeat myself," he replied silkily. "Use Legilimency against me, Potter. Now."
Completely unprepared, she cleared her throat and raised her wand, staring him in the eye. "Legilimens!"
No sooner was the incantation out of her mouth than a sheer white wall appeared before her, physically knocking her to the floor. "Again," Snape ordered. Snarling, she stood and cast the spell again, and again she was thrown backward. "Again!"
"I'm trying!" she growled, stumbling to her feet and rubbing the back of her head. "Draco, distract him! Legilimens!"
Draco cast some spell, and the slight effort it took Snape to fend him off was enough for her to slip by the white wall. For a split second, anyway. This time when the wall came down she didn't get knocked back on her ass, which she considered a minor success.
"Adequate," Snape decided after a moment. "But just barely. Again."
"Sir." Hazel was irritated and confused, and about done with being polite. "Why are we doing this? Why are we attacking you when we all know we'll never break by your defenses?"
"Because I told you to," Snape replied, "and because you think you will never break my defenses. That is not an appropriate attitude for our kind. Now, again!"
This time Hazel threw the most powerful spell she knew. Bombarda Maxima! she crowed silently, and the air exploded in front of the professor. Next to her Draco was casting more spells, she didn't know which, she didn't have time to- Legilimens!
Brief snippets of the previous day, of teaching and of counseling, before the white wall shut her out. Snape flicked his wand, undoing the damage of their spells. "Again, adequate. Even the sturdiest defenses can buckle under a sustained assault." His gaze flicked to Hazel. "I presume Black showed you non-verbal spellcasting?"
"Yes sir, he gave me a few pointers over the holidays," she explained.
"I shudder to think of what context a man like him would need to be silent in." Snape rolled his eyes. "Now then. Your final task of the night is to duel one another, while maintaining full Occlumency shields. I shall be probing to make sure."
Now this was more her style! Hazel smirked at Draco as they bowed to one another and fell into familiar stances. She had been practicing this already! "Expelliarmus!" she cried, sending a jet of red light at Draco.
He dodged it neatly and fired back with a Stunner, which she deflected with a quick Shield before retaliating with another Disarm. This went on for thirty seconds before Snape called a halt. "Not bad, either of you. I doubt you noticed, but neither of you were casting spells out loud at the end of the duel."
"Really?" Draco looked pleased and surprised. "Cool, sir, I hadn't noticed at all."
"Nor I." It was obvious in hindsight, though. "You said this was the final task of the night?"
"Indeed. Off with you both, now." They both bowed, he nodded in reply, and they left the room the way they came.
"That was frustrating," Hazel remarked once they were well away from the office. "Snape doesn't usually talk in circles that way."
"I think he was testing you, Hazel," Draco said thoughtfully. "And maybe giving you space to yell and lose your temper a little, too. Do you feel better?"
"Yeah, I kinda do." She shrugged it off. "Come on, I need to have a word with Lupin before we head back." Draco followed her, and they went up to Lupin's office, knocking firmly. "Professor?"
The door opened, and Lupin was standing there. "Hazel, Draco, to what do I owe this pleasure?"
She pushed past him and pulled the morning paper from her bag, slapping it onto his desk. "How could this happen?"
"I'd think it would be obvious to anyone as sharp as you," he said mildly, though his eyes betrayed the tension he felt. "You tell me how it happened."
"Lucius got Lockhart released, and I'd bet Pettigrew hopped into his socks or something while he was being led out," she said, making it all up as she went. "Sir, he's loose after twelve years, you can't hide it from me any longer. Why was he locked up? What did he DO?"
"I'm sure it's in the paper," he replied, his voice conveying his distaste for the subject.
Suppressing a growl, she flipped the paper to the bulk of the article and glanced down, skimming for a relevant passage. One caught her eye in the middle: As our older readers may recall, Pettigrew was imprisoned soon after his best friends James and Lily Potter were tragically murdered by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. What isn't common knowledge, however, is that Pettigrew was their Secret-Keeper, according to the testimony of Sirius Black, and thus was the only person on earth who could have betrayed their location to You Know Who!
"He's a traitor, then," Hazel whispered, hatred and rage searing through her veins as a shiver went through her body. She was certain that if she saw that ratty face now, she'd be well able to cast the most powerful Killing Curse the world had ever seen! "That goddamn rat betrayed my parents! It's HIS fault, everything is HIS FUCKING FAULT!"
"Language, Hazel." Lupin sighed. "How many times must I lecture you about your swearing habit?"
She wasn't quite listening though, trying to control the blazing fury that coursed through her. Finally she had the truth about Pettigrew! But what could she do about it now? Draco and Lupin were staring at her, warily reaching for their wands. "Sorry," she muttered, taking a few deep breaths.
He just shook his head. "Knowing Pettigrew as I do, I can say he'll stop at nothing to reach Voldemort. And with Lucius Malfoy moving openly it's certain other Death Eaters will follow his example; they might already have some contingency plan in motion. You must take care over the summer, Hazel."
"We know, we just got lectured by Snape," Draco said. "Come on, Hazel, let's go."
"Wait." She glared up at Lupin. "Professor, I know that all Animagi have some mark or tell that identifies them in their animal form. What's Pettigrew's tell?"
"The index finger on his right hand was blown off during his apprehension twelve years ago, and I've heard he still lacks that digit even in his rat form," Lupin replied, and she was glad when he chose not to question why she asked that.
"Thank you. Good night." She skipped bowing and stormed out of the room, still too angry to think straight.
Fortunately she had her head back on right by the time they got to the common room, though it felt more like she had forced the anger down to a low simmer, that it was merely banked and ready to flare up at any provocation. She was partway through her homework when she realized Legilimency could help her locate and identify Pettigrew, which she should have realized before. Oh well, it was a reason to get better at mind magic she didn't have before.
Notes:Kudos to Hanah_Solo for guessing a couple of plot twists, lol
Chapter 38: Lots of FinalsSummary:How much stuff can one school pack into a month and a half? Final matches, final exams, final plans...
Chapter TextThe drama of Pettigrew's escape from Azkaban was immediately overshadowed by the pending divorce of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, a pureblood scandal the likes of which hadn't been seen in decades. There was no denying what it was about either; Lucius' fall from grace last year had been well publicized, after all.
"Did he really expect her to stay with him after all this?" Draco ranted one evening in the common room. "That shit with Quirrell in our first year was bad enough! But then the stunt he pulled last year, with the diary and the basilisk?" He shook his head. "We're all lucky you were in Slytherin, Hazel, I don't know whatcould have happened otherwise!"
"If I'd been in Gryffindor I might have been closer to Ginny," Hazel mused. "And maybe I could have stopped it sooner? I dunno, I'm right where I belong." No use beating herself up over might-have-beens, after all.
The divorce and the breakout were all anyone could talk about, at least until a few days before the Quidditch Cup final. Flint and Diggory both had their teams practicing like crazy, though at different times; seeing the Hufflepuff players yawning through the day after early morning practice made Hazel quite glad Flint had booked the pitch in the evenings. That had its own pitfalls though, as it cut into her homework time, which was as high as ever with exams looming closer and closer.
Despite everything she couldn't make herself take the match seriously; she'd crunched the numbers and knew how badly Slytherin could lose and still take the Cup home, so really it was down to Draco and the other Chasers to keep the score about even before she could zero in on the Snitch.
Not even when Flint got disqualified over NEWT shit and two other players wound up in the hospital wing for being hexed so badly could she make herself give a damn. She just sighed, took over as captain for the match and reorganized her reserves to fill in the squad. "It doesn't matter," she muttered under her breath, "we're gonna win anyway!"
"So we might as well win big, right?" Draco cut in, having overheard her. She scowled and flipped him off, and he just laughed again.
Nevertheless, when the day of the match finally came she found a spark in herself to lead her team right, and when they met in the locker room she had her gear on and her Firebolt in hand. "Alright then, you tossers, this is IT! This is fucking well IT!" she started, pacing back and forth. "You've heard me say we could throw this match and still get the Cup? Well I've changed my mind!"
They cheered at that. "We're gonna go out there and we're gonna kick some badger ass!" she ranted on. "They're gonna lose so goddamn hard they'll go home crying! And Hogwarts will NEVER FORGET OUR NAMES!" The team really cheered at that, stomping and clapping and carrying on, and she grinned toothily.
"Fuck Hufflepuff!" Millicent shouted, and they cheered even harder.
Hazel let them carry on, then held up her hands for silence. "Alright, alright, chill out. You know what to do: Chasers keep our lead up! Beaters keep their Seeker off balance and those Bludgers in everyone's business but ours! Keeper, don't you DARE let the Quaffle through! Now let's get out there and kick some ass!" One final stomp and cheer, and they trooped out onto the field, Hazel in front.
It couldn't have been a more perfect day for Quidditch. There was just enough cloud cover to keep the sun from glaring down too hard, no breeze to speak of, and the air was warm without being suffocating. The stands were half green and half yellow, and everyone was cheering like crazy, eager for the big game.
Diggory and the badgers were approaching from the opposite end, and Madam Hooch waited for them in the middle of the pitch. "Captains shake hands!" she called sharply, and Hazel and Diggory shook hands and grinned at each other; win or lose, he wouldn't hold a grudge, and she wouldn't either. "On my whistle! Ready?" and she blew a short sharp blast; fourteen players and four balls surged into the air, and the game was on!
Everything fell away as she raced higher than everyone, watching out for the Snitch. She'd done this plenty of times before, this was gonna be just another match! She circled the stadium in a green blur, one eye on Diggory and her team, the other scanning intently for that little golden walnut.
Now and then a cheer would rise up, or Hooch's whistle would blow and the crowd would boo; she flew down to critique or console as necessary, but generally kept above the fray, desperate to spot the Snitch before Diggory.
Finally, when the score was something ridiculous, she saw a quick golden flash, flickering along below Draco's broom; she threw herself into a dive, eyes on the Snitch as it seemed to taunt her by holding steady just below him. "DRACO!" she shouted, and he scooted out of her way just in time! The Snitch was wide open and she snatched it up! "FUCK YEAH, BITCHES!"
And just like that, the Cup was theirs once more! Still clutching the Snitch she landed to the ground, and her team surrounded her like a guard of honor as the rest of the school thundered down to cheer and celebrate. She saw Luna in the crowd, cheering and beaming with the rest of them; without thinking she reached out and pulled her into a hug, right in front of the entire school!
Moments later the crowd parted, and she had to pull away from Luna; Dumbledore was approaching them, the gleaming silver Cup in hand, and Snape was at his side trying not to smile too broadly. "Give it up sir, we know how you really feel!" she teased, taking the Cup from Dumbledore and raising it over her head. "Quidditch Champions!"
The party that evening went all night, and the only thing Hazel missed was having Luna at her side. Otherwise she guzzled butterbeer and sang all the silly songs and basked in the adulation of her House, proud to have properly earned their cheers. Who had time for silly scandals where there was victory to be savored, anyway?
The rest of May drifted by in a sultry haze, and once again the stress of exams reared its head. Everyone was revising like mad to try and cram as many facts into empty heads as possible, and no one revised harder than Hazel and Hermione, except maybe Susan and Padma. Dueling club had long since given way to studying exclusively, but no one seemed to notice.
June finally came, and exams came with them. Hazel avoided the fifth and seventh year students like they had the plague, knowing that they'd be as irritated and sensitive as she was, and spent so much time ruthlessly clamped down on her own mind against the headaches that threatened that her friends avoided her like the plague too.
Fortunately, the exams came and went, one by one. Part of their Transfiguration exam involved turning a teapot into a tortoise, which she managed on the first try, and their Charms exam later focused on Cheering and Freezing Charms among others.
Care of Magical Creatures was quite fun too, as they had to demonstrate how to respect and feed a hippogriff (bow and present a slab of meat while maintaining eye contact), identify sick flobberworms from healthy ones (the sick ones had a slightly paler shade of brown to them), and lure a fire salamander out of its bonfire (hot green peppers did the trick the quickest).
After lunch was Potions, where Hazel brewed a perfect Confusing Concoction and managed to be obvious enough about what she was doing to guide the others through the process as well. Snape cocked an eyebrow at her antics, but didn't say anything, and she was confident she had aced it and done her best to help the others too. Later that night she filled in a star chart for Astronomy, and dozed off to thoughts of the end of exams.
History of Magic and Herbology took most of the next day, and Hazel filled her parchment with everything she could remember about medieval witch hunts and random other facts. In Herbology they had to successfully defang a vampiric flower without getting bitten, a feat she thought she accomplished rather well.
Lupin's Defense exam was more like an obstacle course, combining all the spells and Dark creatures they had studied over the course of the year into one series of tasks. Hazel proudly navigated through it, dodging Grindylows and Red Caps and Hinkypunks, and quickly banishing her dementor boggart in the old trunk near the end. The final obstacle was Lupin himself; each student had to withstand thirty seconds of dueling against the seasoned wizard, and one could judge their skill by how hard Lupin himself dueled them.
"You duel as fiercely as any seventh-year, Hazel," he announced when their time was up, and he wrote perfect marks down beneath her name. "I'm honored to have taught you so well."
"Thanks, Professor!" she replied, happily shaking his hand and making way for the next student.
With Divination canceled they could go straight to Muggle Studies, where they did their best to summarize everything they had learned in a way that showed they could integrate with Muggles without violating any Secrecy laws. Hazel was pretty sure she had done alright, even though most of her recollections of the class were overshadowed by recollections of Professor Burbage.
"Quills down!" the Professor called brightly, clapping her hands. "You too, Miss Granger!" Hazel looked to the side, saw Hermione putting her quill down a second later; she must have been trying to cram a few final facts into the very bottom of her parchment. "This is the final exam for most of you, so get out there and enjoy the weather!"
Hazel cheered with the others, but it was somewhat muted; she still had Arithmancy and Ancient Runes tomorrow, which were likely to be all theoretical exams without any practical component. But without a cute professor to distract her she figured she wouldn't have too hard of a time with them. Right?
A restless night and a skimpy breakfast later, and she learned that yes, exams were much easier without any distractions. Both exams went by quickly, with Ancient Runes devoted exclusively to translation upon translation with another of the special green quills; they had to accurately convert every rune they had studied and discussed into its rough modern equivalent, without mistakes or backtracking.
The Arithmancy exam was more of a review for her, with mind-numbing columns of mathematical problems to be solved, and a few essay questions on the inherent power of certain numbers and concepts. She took great delight in flying through them all, and finishing seconds ahead of Hermione, Padma and Susan! She caught Professor Vector's eye and winked, and the Professor came to collect their exams. "Mhm." A practiced eye streaked over the problems, and she smiled. "I think all four of you can expect perfect marks in a few weeks. For now, enjoy the rest of your term," she said quietly, dismissing them with a wave.
"Merlin's pants, I thought this week would never end!" Susan griped as they left the classroom a full half hour early. "There's no way I can keep up that many classes going forward! Is anyone going back to Divination next year?"
"I will," Hazel said firmly. "Trelawney's different now, didn't you guys hear about that false diadem she'd been wearing this whole time? Once she recovers I'm sure the class will be worth taking again."
"I'm still leaving it behind, even if she's changed for the better," Hermione said. "Muggle Studies too; as nice as Professor Burbage is, I just don't see what a Muggle-born like me can learn from her."
"I think I'll have to drop Care of Magical Creatures," Padma said thoughtfully. "I don't see myself working with them in my future, you know? I'll have to stick with Divination though, Parvati would never forgive me if I dropped it." She rolled her eyes, and the other girls giggled.
There was one last visit to Hogsmeade scheduled before the end of term, but Hazel was looking forward to being able to just rest again, to hang out with Luna, swim in the lake, fly about on her broom. All the issues waiting for her outside the castle, like Lucius and Pettigrew and the Slytherin locket, all seemed hazy and far away; more important was the vast blue of the early summer sky overhead, the gentle breeze and the sultry warmth that made everyone feel drowsy and complacent.
Crabbe and Goyle did their best to ruin it, of course, cornering her in the courtyard and demanding she duel both of them at once. "We've had enough of you, Potter, and we're gonna put you in your place!" Crabbe threatened, holding his wand like it was a knife.
"Yeah! Stupid know-it-all Dark witch anyway!" Goyle taunted.
"Oh boys." She shook her head, drawing her wand almost lazily. There was a crowd around them of course, no one could resist a duel. "You don't stand a chance, you know-"
"Shut up! Expelliarmus!" Crabbe roared, waving his wand through the air. She flinched and threw up an instinctive Shield, but someone else intercepted it first!
"No dueling in the courtyard!" Cedric Diggory shouted, pushing his way through the crowd as he stowed his wand. "And attacking before it even starts? Both of you should be ashamed!"
"But she-"
"But nothing! What's Hazel done to you all year anyway?" he went on, crossing his arms and glaring down at them both. He was taller and broader than they were, and his Prefect badge gleamed brightly in the sunlight. "Five points each from Hufflepuff! And I'll be speaking to Sprout about putting you both in detention, first thing in September!"
They grumbled and muttered curses, but shuffled off with their heads down as the crowd dispersed. Diggory watched them go, then turned to Hazel. "Sorry about that, Potter. I've been keeping an eye on them since last year, but I still don't know what their grudge against you is!"
"They were supposed to be in Slytherin so they could serve as Draco's goons, but I guess the Sorting Hat thought differently, and now Draco's my goon instead," Hazel replied with a shrug, finally putting her wand away. "I could have taken them both, you know that."
"That's beside the point, and I'd like them not to miss the train for being stuck in the hospital wing after you were done thrashing them." He smirked slightly and offered his hand. "If they'd take their studies seriously I could put them on the team, they've definitely got the build for Beaters, don't they?"
"They sure do!" She shook his hand and grinned back. "You still gonna lead the badgers on the pitch next term?"
"I sure hope so, everyone says I'm a good captain. You've got the makings of a great one yourself, it'll be an honor and a pleasure to fly against you again."
"Aw, Diggory." Her grin widened and she chuckled. "Keep that up and someone might think you're sweet on me!"
Chapter 39: Such Sweet SorrowSummary:Finally, the end of the year! But it isn't without its unpleasant bits, of course, poor Lupin...
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextTwo days before the end of term, Hazel and Draco had heard Lupin was quitting; unnerved by the rumor, they went up and found him packing up in his office. "Professor?" she asked in an alarmed voice. "What are you doing? You're not quitting already, are you?"
"Unfortunately I am," he replied somberly. "Somehow it got out about my furry little problem, so I'm getting out of the way before there's a fuss about it."
"You can't leave! You're the best teacher any of us ever had!" she protested.
"Who was it, anyway? Who ratted you out?" Draco demanded.
"No one at school, though I'm certain Pettigrew had something to do with it," he replied. It made sense to Hazel; Pettigrew could have told Lucius, and doubtless Lucius still had friends in the Ministry who'd be receptive to any effort or rumor that could discredit Dumbledore or his allies.
She went to Percy about it, and he just shook his head. "I won't deny Lupin was an effective teacher, and that he managed to keep his true nature a secret the whole year was extraordinary. But you weren't raised in our world, Hazel, you don't understand the prejudice that exists against them."
"It's a stupid prejudice, I can tell already," she grumbled. "Werewolves are only dangerous for one night, during the full moon! They can isolate themselves, or take the Wolfsbane Potion to nullify the worst of it!"
"Right, and that's an expensive and devilish potion to brew, too," he pointed out.
"Relax, Hazel, Dumbledore'll find a winner for you next year," Gemma said from behind, clapping her on the shoulder. "He always has, hasn't he, Weasley?"
"Quite so, Farley, quite so." The absurdly formal air he had abruptly adopted was ludicrous, and Hazel and Gemma both giggled at it until he relaxed and smirked.
"Where are you guys going next?" Hazel asked, looking up at them both as Gemma let go.
"I'm applying right to the Ministry," Percy explained pompously. "Or, as soon as I get my marks back I'll be applying. I'd like to get in with the Department of International Magical Cooperation, or maybe even Magical Law Enforcement!"
"I'll be going into Magical Law myself, and if that doesn't work, McGonagall said she'd sponsor me to get my Transfiguration Mastery," Gemma said. "I might do both, even!"
"I'm sure you'll both go far," Hazel said, smiling. "Maybe you could do something to make life easier for werewolves! If things weren't stacked against them so much, they'd have an easier time finding a civilized place in society!"
"There's a thought," Gemma agreed.
Their exam results finally came back on the last day, and Hazel felt an enormous stab of relief to see she had passed everything with flying colors. Her ambitions were still on track! Everyone in the study group reported passing grades as well, even Neville; Percy and Gemma got the top marks they both needed, and even Fred and George managed a handful of OWLs each. Hazel suspected they were destined for something outside the Ministry though, in spite of their mother's meddling.
And since Slytherin had won the House Cup for the third year in a row, the Great Hall was resplendent in green and silver, and the Slytherin table was the noisiest of them all as everyone ate and drank and celebrated!
All too soon the sun was rising the next day, and Hazel dragged herself out of bed, the celebratory mood replaced with a melancholy feeling at the thought of returning to Muggle England, even if for a few weeks. She was already packed of course, and the last of her laundry was at the end of her bed, so she put it away and walked out of her dorm. The other girls were up early too, even Parkinson; she still didn't speak to them much, but Hazel had noticed she was slightly less frosty ever since that morning before the February Hogsmeade trip, which she had to count as a success.
"Don't fret, Hazel, there's the World Cup this summer!" Ron was saying for the fiftieth time as they settled into a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, a few hours later. "Dad's sure to get tickets, I'll make sure everyone can come! Luna and her dad too, if you want!"
"I'm not sure Luna likes Quidditch much, but I'd like it if she was there," Hazel replied, smiling despite herself.
"Daddy won't want to come, he thinks Quidditch matches are cover for the Ministry to try and brainwash everyone," Luna said unexpectedly. "But I'll convince him to let us go, if I make special earrings to counteract the magic."
Hermione was, as usual, nose deep in a book, already working on the summer's homework. Hazel didn't want to do any of it yet, the melancholy feeling was still too strong, and Luna's nargle perfume too distracting. She wondered what Dudley had been up to, if he was a boxing champion yet or whatever.
The train finally pulled into King's Cross, and she dragged her trunk and cage behind her as she disembarked. There was Mr and Mrs Weasley, waiting to hug and smother their kids, and standing in the middle of a bubble of solitude was Narcissa. Hazel went straight for her. "Narcissa, are you alright?" she asked, taking the woman's hand in her own.
"Well enough, Hazel, thank you." Her expression was carefully, rigidly neutral, yet Hazel could sense anger and sorrow in equal measure beneath that facade. What else would one feel, she wondered, while one's life was falling apart in shamefully public fashion? "My cousin made you his Heir, I've heard."
"Ah, yeah." She held up her hand and revealed the Black ring. "I'm sorry if Draco got pushed aside, it wasn't my idea at all."
"No matter, he will still bear the Malfoy name," she replied, brushing the thought aside. Draco appeared at her side, and they embraced briefly. "You've heard about the divorce, I'm sure? Lucius won't have a Knut to his name by the time I'm done, and Draco will get everything as soon as he's of age."
"You can still use the old Black place, of course, I'm sure you'll need somewhere to stay. Sirius didn't say he intended to bar you entirely."
"Yes, I've already spoken with him about it." Her brows furrowed with impatience. "Do excuse us, Hazel darling, we have much to do." She took Draco's arm and turned away, gesturing with her hand to call his things to follow behind them.
She had no time to consider this small display of wandless magic; the Weasley stampede had enveloped her. Everyone was worked up over the World Cup, and she let herself be carried on by their enthusiasm; she'd have to put a serious dent in her summer homework before leaving, if she even got a chance to do it.
Hazel eventually extracted herself and pushed off toward the barrier, Hermione at her side. They waited for the signal from the guard, then leaned through and were in Muggle London; the air felt smokier almost instantly, and she couldn't help a coughing fit as she looked for the Dursleys.
"I'll see you soon, Hazel," Hermione said, leaning over for a quick hug. "There's my parents!" She went toward a well-dressed Muggle couple who looked a lot like their daughter; her father was tall and had light brown hair, and her mother had the familiar untamable brown frizz. Hazel had no time to go introduce herself, as Uncle Vernon had spotted her and was gesturing impatiently.
She swallowed and approached, but he clearly wasn't in a mood to drag it out. "Don't stand around," he muttered, throwing her trunk in the boot of the car. "Get in, come on!" She sighed and put Hedwig's cage in first, then slid in herself and put her seatbelt on.
"Alright, Dudley?" she asked, looking over at her cousin. He was as vast as ever, but two years of martial arts and boxing meant it was more muscle than fat; she figured he'd be as tall as Vernon by now, or very nearly so.
"Yep," he replied, shrugging. "Glad for the hols, honestly."
"Me too." That was a lie, but this wasn't the time or audience to get into her worries over Wormtail and Lord Malfoy and all that. She shrugged back and looked ahead, thinking about the half-assed 'plan' she had made up to get Snape off her back. Would it see her through?
No use getting worked up over it. She settled back in the seat and got comfortable, wondering what else the summer would hold for her.
Notes:And that's a wrap! Like before I'll take a couple weeks off to work on Year 4, so keep an eye out for The Girl Who Burned sometime before April. See you all then!
Series this work belongs to:← Previous Work Part 3 of Hazel's Story Next Work →