46 46: Whiskers and The Diary

[3rd Pov]

After the Polyjuice fiasco, Hermione remained in the hospital wing for several weeks.

There was a flurry of rumours about her disappearance when the rest of the school returned from their Christmas holidays because everyone thought she had been attacked. So many students filed past the hospital wing trying to catch a glimpse of her that Madam Pomfrey had Lysandra, who had been helping her, hex any student who got too close.

Her closer friends went to visit her every evening, often trying to lighten up the gloomy mood Hermione had with jokes and current gossip.

When the new term started, they would bring her each day's homework most of the time, often helping her write due to her cat paws.

The keyword being 'most', because one day...

"I don't know if I prefer you with or without whiskers," Tipping a stack of books and parchment onto Hermione's bedside table, Alaric brought a hand to his chin as if deep in thought.

White curtains covered most of the view of the bed, the only opening being the one on the opposite side to the doors leading to the wing.

Madam Pomfrey, busy as one can get in a magical school full of reckless younglings, didn't notice that Alaric was the one bringing today's homework.

"Will you stop teasing her? I don't think she can get any redder,"

Beside Alaric, Lysandra had her arms crossed while looking at the embarrassed girl lying on the bed who desperately tried to cover herself fully with the sheats.

"It's not my fault, is it? I've never seen a cat lady before," replied Alaric, his eyes wandering to the cat's tail peeking from the covers. According to Lys, it used to be bigger, but unfortunately and fortunately, the treatment had been going steadily.

"She's missing the dozen pet cats to be a cat-lady. She's more like a... cat-girl?"

"Well, if we take the fur covering the whole body and leave only the ears, tail and maybe the whiskers, then it'd be pretty cute,"

"Right? I thought so too,"

"Honestly, I'd be willing to pay to read a story about it,"

Unable to bear the Grindelwald siblings' discussion anymore, Hermione emerged from her bed covers and threw one of her pillows at the pair.

Even beneath the short fur that covered her face, the blush in her cheeks was easily noticeable. Her hand reached for the remaining pillow but was stopped by another delicate hand.

"Come on now Hermione, don't be rash," said Lysandra, struggling to contain the laugh she so desperately wanted to give. "We were just joking around."

Hermione huffed in annoyance and turned to face the white curtains in protest against the siblings.

The pair had to cover their mouths, eyes teary from how weirdly cute her gesture was.

Reluctantly, the girl turned to face them again and grabbed a Transfiguration book before opening a parchment scroll, wanting to begin with her homework.

"If I'd sprouted whiskers, I'd take a break from work," Commented Lysandra, handing Hermione a quill and some ink.

"Don't be silly, Lys. I've got to keep up," Hermione replied briskly. She started writing away, glancing between the book and her work.

Her human paws struggled to hold the quill properly, but her spirits were greatly improved by the fact that the fur was shorter and shorter each day and that her eyes were almost their natural brown colour.

"You know, the professors know of your condition, so I'm sure your grades wouldn't be affected if you simply rested until you're less... cat," said Alaric, watching Hermione struggle to write a readable sentence.

"And what would a Slytherin know about it?!"

The girl's outburst only caught Lysandra by surprise, her eyes narrowing into a dangerous glare. Alaric however, simply shrugged his shoulders.

"I was only trying to help, Granger," he said, before walking away to say goodbye to Madam Pomfrey, who jumped from seeing Alaric appear out of nowhere.

Only after the doors closed did Hermione process what she had spouted. Her face slowly turned to Lysandra, whose eyes were stuck on Hermione's.

She dryly swallowed, before her head hung a bit low.

"Sorry..." she muttered. "I said it without thinking,"

"You better be," Lysandra sighed. She knew better than be upset at her friend. The toll of being a muggle-born with a bigot beast on the loose coupled with the fiasco of the Polyjuice potion and the accumulating homework had Hermione on the edge.

It didn't help that their house was extremely biased against her brother's house. Years of grooming and indoctrination had most of the purebloods and half-bloods that entered Gryffindor hate the Slytherins.

At least Hope was never biased, and Harry and Ron were slowly seeing the error of their ways.

If there was one wish Lysandra had at the moment, would be that her friends and brother got along and didn't fight all the time. She longed for the days they could spend together hanging out, be it at school or Godric's Hollow.

'Oh, that and finding out who the heir is.'

"I don't suppose you got any leads?" said Hermione in a whisper so Madam Pomfrey couldn't hear. Her question broke Lysandra from her stupor.

"Nothing," said Lysandra, rather annoyed that her investigation was yet to bear any fruits.

"Harry and Ron were sure it was Malfoy," commented Hermione offhandedly.

"They always think Malfoy is the cause of any trouble. Merlin knows what Alaric would have done to them if Hope wasn't there to reel them in,"

Lysandra's bluntness caused Hermione to let out a chuckle.

"What's that?" Lysandra pointed at something gold sticking from beneath Hermione's pillow, which had been revealed when she was laughing.

"Just a get-well card," said Hermione hastily, trying to poke it out of sight, but Lysandra was too quick for her. She pulled it out, flicked it open, and read it:

— To Miss Granger, wishing you a speedy recovery, from your concerned teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award. —

Lysandra looked up at Hermione, disgusted.

"Please tell me that you don't sleep with this under your pillow,"

But Hermione was spared answering by Madam Pomfrey sweeping over with her evening dose of medicine.

Meanwhile, Alaric made his way out of the infirmary and started down the stairs that led to the Slytherin dungeons. He was just thinking if he should go to Albus about the ancient magic problem and the indecipherable book when he heard a loud wail from the floor above.

Thinking someone else had been attacked, he rushed up the stairs and ran in the direction of the sound. When he arrived, a great flood of water stretched over half the corridor, and it looked as though it was still seeping from under the door of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, and he could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.

"It's just that time of the month," he muttered, before wondering if that could even happen, and that ghosts had any sort of biology to them.

The opening and pushing of the bathroom door made Alaric quickly hide around the corner.

He peeked over, in time to watch Harry and Ron strutting out of it.

Alaric seemingly lost interest when he saw them. However, his eyes caught a glimpse of the thin book in Harry's arms. It had a shabby black cover and was as wetting the boy's robes.

Harry seemed protective of it, while Ron tried to convince him to get rid of the book.

But what actually caught Alaric's attention wasn't the state of the book, but the magic it was emanating.

It had a dark tint to it, eerily similar to extremely dark artefacts he possessed from his grandfather's collection. But the most creepy aspect of it was that it felt... alive.

"Interesting..."

__________

At the end of January, the designs Alaric had given to Flitwick had finally left the parchment.

There had been a huge commotion in the Great Hall, where Flitwick dutifully distributed a pair of enchanted glasses to each student.

The professors deduced that muggle-born students were being targeted, but for the safety of everyone, every student and staff were given a pair.

At the beginning of February, Hermione left the hospital wing, de-whiskered, tail-less, and fur-free. On her first evening back to the Gryffindor Tower, Hope showed her the diary her brother and Ron had brought and told her the story of they had found it.

With great enthusiasm, Hermione attempted to determine if the diary was truly blank. Despite trying every spell she had researched that could uncover hidden text, none of them worked. Therefore, she turned to using magical items she had purchased at the Emporium.

But even those objects, such as the Revealer, a magical eraser that reveals hidden text, didn't seem to work.

"Where's Lysandra when we need her..." groaned Ron, sinking deeper into the cushion of the chair.

"Who knows," Hermione replied rather sarcastically. "If a certain someone had simply kept their stupid thoughts to themselves, then we could have figured this out already," her eyes wandered over to the embarrassed Harry, who avoided looking at the girl.

"We should look for some clues in the Trophy room," suggested Hope. "Maybe we can find some clues there about this Riddle person,"

__________

Alaric couldn't explain, even to himself, the nagging feeling he had since he had caught a glimpse of the book his sister's friends had.

There was something about the book that made Alaric feel uneasy as if he was walking on eggshells whenever he was near it - whether it was during breakfast, lunch, classes, or even after school. The book seemed to emit a magical energy that made him on edge.

He even started to eat his dinner alongside Fred and George in the castle kitchens just so he could be away from the eerie sensation of the mere presence of the book.

The sun had now begun to shine weakly on Hogwarts again. Inside the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful.

There had been no more attacks since those on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, the students now had the magical glasses to protect them, and Madam Pomfrey was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, meaning that they were fast leaving childhood and almost ready to be harvested.

Students wondered if the Heir of Slytherin had lost his or her nerve. It was riskier than ever to open the Chamber of Secrets with the whole school prepared and alert. Perhaps the monster was settling itself down to hibernate for another fifty years... but Alaric knew better.

His visions, which were now occurring daily, were yet to disappear.

Gilderoy Lockhart seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop.

Alaric overheard him telling Professor Snape so while the students were lining up for Potions.

"I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Severus," he said, tapping his nose knowingly and winking. "I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him. You know, what the school needs now is a morale booster. Wash away the memories of the last term! I won't say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing. . . "

He tapped his nose again and strode off.

The boy dreaded what this morale booster could possibly be, and it became clear at breakfast time on February fourteenth.

Alaric was slightly late to breakfast that day. The night before had been quite hectic with trying to fit Thing into a magically expanded envelope so he could send the homunculus to Orion.

For a moment he thought he had walked through the wrong doors.

The walls were all covered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling.

"What's going on?" Alaric asked as he sat at the end of the Slytherin table. He was already feeling uncomfortable from the numerous stares from people of the opposite sex, and it didn't help seeing his friends as they were.

Blaise and Theodore were sitting there with sickened expressions, while Daphne and Tracey couldn't stop giggling at each other.

The dark-skinned boy simply raised his hand and pointed to the Professors' table, disgusted.

Alaric turned his head to look, and if he had a spoon at hand, he would have shoved it right through his pupils.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. He was wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all — and it doesn't end here!"

Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched at least fifty surly-looking dwarfs. Not just any dwarfs, however. Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.

All day long, the dwarfs kept barging into their classes to deliver valentines, to the annoyance of the teachers, and late that afternoon as the Slytherins were walking upstairs for Charms.

Alaric spent most of the day eluding at least ten of the dwarves, sneaking from corridor to corridor under a Disillusionment Charm.

They tried, they truly did. At one point, after almost every dwarf had completed their task, they banded together in search of the Grindelwald boy, but unfortunately for them, they weren't a match for Alaric's running away skills.

That was until...

**********

A/N: I wonder how Valentine's Day became a thing in the wizarding world. Also, next chapter things will truly diverge from the canon of the Second Year.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!