The Devil's In The Details

Chapter Nine

On his way into the Great Hall for yet another start of term feast, Harry noticed through the yelling and screeching between reunited friends about the summer months they spent apart, most still managed to knock their heads together and whisper about him as he passed by. He would have been flattered, if it wasn't about, you know, him being the next Dark Lord. Apparently "lying" about the return of Voldemort and killing your relatives over the summer hols leaves a bad aftertaste in his peers' mouths.

"Whatcha reckon? If he lied about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, do you think he could have killed Cedric too?"

"I dunno seems like a bit of a big cover for a death in a game where people die a lot,"

"Yeah, but didn't he kill his-"

"- I had forgotten about that! Maybe he's trying to distract us from what he's planning?"

Well, who was Kaerim to argue with such sound logic? He rolled his eyes and ignored the look Hermione gave him, picking up the pace and crossing the flagstones past the Ravenclaw table. The inky black reflected in the ceiling of the hall made the candles floating in indescribable patterns stand out in their glowing illuminance. The ghosts were even keeping their distance from Harry, easily swayed by the hoard of students below them.

Harry slid into the bench of the Gryffindor table next to a small crowd of their other classmates. When he'd joined them, they had looked up to stare at him like Hades teasing Cerberus with a red ball. They'd been talking about him too, he mused, naturally. He ignored their gazes and watched his friends separate from Ginny, who had left to sit with her other friends.

"Well, he's not here," Ron grumbled with a look up at the teacher's table.

"What?"

"Hagrid!"

"Right," Hermione nodded, looking up at the teacher's table as well. "Where could he have gone?"

Harry thought for a moment, staring at the empty spot that usually held their large Games Keeper. "Remember over the summer? Maybe he's not back yet,"

"What? A mission from Dumbl-"

"We don't know yet," Kaerim interrupted with a sharp look and a slight tilt of his head towards Neville and the Gyffindors who were leaning in their direction, not so subtly listening in. Ron's eyes went wide and he got a smug, 'I see what you're doing' look on his face.

Hermione, who'd been scanning the teachers' table as if it would be able to give her more conclusive answers suddenly spoke, a note of distaste in her voice, "Who's that ?" She asked.

"Um, who?"

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, " Her ," she said, pointing her finger. "Honestly, Harry, who else?"

Harry grumbled and followed her direction. He was momentarily distracted by Dumbledore's matching robes and hat before his eyes landed on the woman next to him. She was talking into his ear, although Harry was sure that the noise level did not require it.

"Oh!" he made a sound of surprise.

"What?!" Hermione gave him a piercing look, "Do you recognize her?"

"Yeah, she works for Fudge."

"What?! How do you even know that?"

"Uh," he started awkwardly, "she was at my hearing."

"Nice cardigan," Ron added, smirking. Ron was right, Harry noticed absentmindedly. Her cardigan did absolutely nothing for her. It matched the Alice band in her stringy mousy brown hair though. Not that that was a positive feature.