(conclusion) Something About Hermione

The central area of the observation deck was filled with semi-circular rows of wooden-slat folding chairs. The Hufflepuff and Slytherin students were separated facing each other, with Professor Sinistra in the middle, holding a star chart.

When Giselle stepped out from the hatchway she was met by a smiling Hermione, who whispered to her, "I'm getting extra credits for assisting the teacher. And ten points for Gryffindor house! That's well worth staying up an hour more, wouldn't you say?"

Giselle smiled back at her. It was a weak, nervous smile. The night was calm and not too cold. There were lanterns along the parapet between the stands of telescopes. The moonlight was a hazy brightness. The scene was not unfamiliar to Giselle, but the atmosphere was tense.

Hermione was leading her across to the Hufflepuff side. Here Hermione pointed to an empty chair in the front row. There was another empty chair next to it. "We're sitting together," she said.

Giselle sat down. She tried not to wonder if this was the "real" Hermione who sat next to her. How could it not be? Surely this wasn't an illusion.

Professor Sinistra began her brief lecture. Students were yawning and looking quite bored. Giselle glanced around to convince herself that all was as it should be. There really was a green star and everything was just fine, wasn't it?

The teacher was talking about the telescopes now, and that there were to be five students per 'scope; the Hufflepuffs at the north parapet, and the Slytherins at the south. They were to focus on the concentric patterns of light emanating from the green star, which was a peculiar phenomenon having very unique properties in the astrological sense.

Giselle wasn't listening. She was staring at the telescope nearest the hatchway. That would be hers. She'd have a peek at the star and then... just leave. She had permission from Dumbledore to leave at any time. This thought gave her a feeling of relief. It was going to be all right. She really had nothing to worry about.

"Miss Granger will assist the Hufflepuffs in dividing themselves amongst the north-side 'scopes, whilst I assist the Slytherins. Students, proceed!"

Everyone stood up and ambled over to their house's line of telescopes. Giselle was joined by Deidre, Herman, Heloise, and Bea. They followed her to the 'scope by the hatchway like sheep following a sheepdog. They were all half asleep.

Hermione came around and made sure their telescope was properly focused. Then they took turns gazing at the green star.

The moment Giselle put her eye to the eyepiece her left hand tingled madly. She stepped back and stared at her palm. She couldn't tell if it had turned green, the light was too poor. But there did seem to be a faint phosphoric sheen to it.

Hermione apparently took no notice of this. She was milling about the line of Hufflepuffs, her hands clasped behind her. She was acting very much like Professor Sinistra.

Giselle gazed up at the star. She had a sudden crazy urge to reach for it, as if her hand could span the many light-years that separated the star from Earth.

It wasn't easy, but she fought down the temptation to stretch her hand out to the heavens. How silly she would look doing that! So she shoved her hands in her jacket pockets.

When everyone was done having a look at the once-in-a-century star, Professor Sinistra clapped her hands for attention.

"I will request three students to remain behind a few minutes and put the canvas covers over the telescopes," she said. "Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy, and... Miss McGonagall, please stay while I dismiss the students. Goodnight to you all, and remember that breakfast will begin at nine thirty."

Gratefully the crowd of Hufflepuffs and Slytherins wended its way through the hatch and down the spiral stairwell, each yearning for their beds.

Giselle was frightened. She should have left early when she had the chance. The manner in which Sinistra and Hermione were approaching her was ominous. That strange look on the professor's face... And Hermione wasn't smiling.

Giselle looked at Draco. He was not happy having to do a menial chore, and was scowling at the pile of canvas covers on a table near the hatchway.

Professor Sinistra, still watching Giselle, put a hand on Draco's shoulder. He appeared to be offended by this show of familiarity, and made a face at her.

Hermione's eyes had a ghoulish light in them. She gripped Giselle's arm and hissed, "Catch it! It's coming this way! You can do it, I KNOW you can do it! Catch it!" And she pulled the terrified Giselle around so that she faced a bizarre green ball descending in a slow arching motion.

At sight of it Giselle lost all self-control. She jumped up, lunging at the orb with a grasping hand that felt on fire. A shock went through her. She was in a vortex of hallucinations.

Faces appeared one after the other, and though she had never seen these faces before, yet she knew they were her ancestors. The series of faces were a blur of motion. Names scorched her thoughts, surnames that came after the McGonagalls; the Connellys, the Brightons, the Macdougals...

She was going back in time, further and further back, until finally her first true ancestor appeared in full figure, a man dressed in the fur of wolves, holding a staff, a stormy sky framing his fierce posture. The head of his staff became a flashing green star. And it wasn't that he spoke out loud, but that Giselle simply knew who he was, and in her mind the name pronounced itself: "Cormac Mac Lupin."

All this happened in an instant.

She opened her eyes. Her left hand shone a piercingly bright green.

Hermione took hold of Giselle and forced her over to where Draco stood transfixed. He had been ensorcelled into a rigid, receptive state. He was like a boy asleep on his feet, his eyes wide open.

Narcissa stood behind him.

"Do as you are told, Miss McGonagall," she said, her bosom heaving with emotion. "Give me no reason to harm you. Do as I say, and I will wipe this event from your memory. It will be as if this never happened."

Giselle could hardly breathe. In the aftermath of the hallucinations she could make no sense of them. She was in a frightful daze. Behind her the false Hermione was laughing darkly.

Why not cooperate? Yes, just do as you are told.

"Hold your hand out toward my son," Narcissa demanded.

Maybe I'm sleepwalking again, Giselle thought. And with a sigh of despair she raised her glowing green hand.

"NO!"

They all turned and saw Harry standing in the hatchway. Behind his glasses his eyes were a dull grey that throbbed with hate and outrage.

Narcissa was alarmed. She drew Draco back with her, her wand raised. "What is this?" she gasped. "What is going on? Potter! How dare--"

"It belongs to me!" Harry shouted. "It is my birthright! No Malfoy is going  to usurp me!"

A red light swirled out from his wand that knocked Narcissa and Draco against the parapet, even as Narcissa's spell was deflected by the lense of a telescope. Giselle was thrown back as well, falling upon the shrieking Hermione.

In the confusion Giselle cried "Accio, broom!" and just did manage to make the proper flourish of her wand.

She wrestled away from Hermione, both half blinded by the glow of the green hand. It seemed to be tugging at Giselle's arm, as though urging her to flee to a particular place.

Draco lay stunned. His mother, on one knee, was casting a shield spell that withered gradually in the force of Harry's curse. It was a battle of wills that had momentarily forgotten about Giselle and the dark blessing that radiated from her hand... from the hand that caught the Meteor 500.

Giselle flew as swiftly as her troubled state of mind allowed. She swerved around turreted towers and over the outer wall with no destination other than to flee. But her aimlessness didn't matter. Her broom was following the directions of someone else.

She realized suddenly that she was heading straight for the lake. The full moon's reflection shimmered on its calm black surface. As she dove toward its shoreline she saw an elderly witch standing near the water, waving at her. And as she drew closer she noticed another witch lying on the edge of the grass, her hands crossed on her stomach, apparently asleep.

The broom slowed. It hovered just above the ground, an arm's length from Doris Crockford.

"No, don't dismount," said Crockford. "You remember me, don't you, Gee? The McGonagall family picnic, a few Junes ago? Well, I'm sure Marsha would remember. Never mind about Clarinda Elgar. I've learned what I needed to learn from her. Let her have a good rest now."

Giselle saw the look of consternation on the crone's face. "Harry's doppleganger? Surely it must be that. Here he comes on his broom. And no wonder. The poor lad has a piece of... heh... inside him. That explains it. No time to lose," she added as Giselle looked back and saw the dark figure flying toward them, its voice hoarse from shouting in angry exasperation.

Crockford took hold of Giselle's green hand, grimacing at the pain it gave her, and pressing the bowl of her corncob pipe against the palm she whispered an incantation.

"Go now! Back to the castle! Dumbledore's office window is open. Leave the doppleganger to me. Go!"

Giselle took off like a rocket. Her hand was its normal self now, and feeling a burst of elation she flew in a wide circle over the sloping lawns and around to the west side of the castle.

As she flew slowly along the buttressed walls she looked for an open window. It would be high up in the tower she was approaching. But when she angled upward the broom made a sharp turn and bore her directly toward a closed window. Try as she might she could not change course.

She was going to crash into the window! She screamed, an arm across her face.

But she went through the window as if it wasn't there. The broom stopped abruptly, throwing her onto a couch.

She scrambled to her feet and looked around. Her heart leaped into her throat. No, no, not again!

"You vile little badger bitch," said Hermione, coming out from the dark by the fireplace. The lion tapestry above the mantle seemed to roar at Giselle as she backed up against the couch, trembling at sight of Hermione's wand extending toward her.

"You've ruined everything. Such a simple thing, and you ruined it, you and that Voldemort pup, Harry. I promise you that you'll never ruin anything again. Not... not ever... ever again, you... you... ahhh--!"

Giselle whirled around, her hand to her sweaty cheek.

Professor Lupin was holding his wand out and trying to say something that his snarling, slavoring mouth could not fashion. But evidently he didn't need to say anything. His spell was shredding the image of Hermione and drawing the transparent pieces into his wand.

For a fleeting moment Giselle saw Snape snatch the wand away and break it in two. Then he and Lupin were simply not there anymore. And even stranger was the feeling that the room itself had gone; gone like a popped bubble.

"That you, Giselle? What the bloody hell?"

Ron stood on the steps to the boys dorm, gazing back at the Hufflepuff girl.

"Gee?" said a pleasant voice.

It was Hermione. She came up to the stunned Giselle and was about to giggle over the very idea of a Hufflepuff in the Gryffindor Common Room in the middle of the night. But then she saw the ring of blood in the palm of Giselle's left hand.

"My God! What's happened? I'm taking you to the hospital wing, and no arguing."

***

When Giselle awoke in her infirmary bed the sun was shining on the opposite wall. Auntie and Madame Pomfrey stood near the footboard, gazing down at her with tender concern.

Dumbledore had been stroking her hand, and now that she was alert he straightened up.

"We'll have a chat, later, when you feel better," he said. "I'm afraid you'll need plenty of chocolate."

"Headmaster, was it all just a bad dream?"

He fingered his beard thoughtfully a moment. "Oh yes, just a dream, I would say," and winked at her.