FIFTEEN. | DEFECTIVE

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"I find it astonishing that someone who prides herself on being so logical can be in such denial," Ron snipped as the quartet made their way to Hagrid's.

    "Gemini," Hermione selected; fawn eyes afire, "Will you explain to Ronald that he has decisively no attestation whatsoever that my sweet, unassuming cat ate his shabby, decidedly decrepit rat." The proposed female groaned, desperately wishing that she'd remained with Draco and Fred whilst they disported Exploding Snap.

"Hermione," she whined, "This squabble between the two of you is so old. Besides, I've formerly pointed out to him the lack of evidence that he has in support of such claim...didn't quite go over so well, remember?"

Ron, irate from the opposition, decided to drag the last member of their group into the disagreement. "Harry was there," the ginger shrilled, "He'll tell you both how it was. Go on, Harry, tell them!" Though, Harry himself looked like he wished he'd stayed behind as well.

    "No, I don't think I will," The Boy-Who-Lived revealed. "Know why? Because I don't care about your stupid rat! I don't care about your stupid cat! Gemini and myself have more exigent matters to worry ourselves over!"

Sirius Black managing to break into Gryffindor Tower was an asperity, one that made Gemini and Harry aware of just how genuine the crazed man was regarding their slaughter. And that also seemed prevalent in that of the Professors. Everywhere they'd traveled they saw signs of tighter security; Professor Flitwick could be seen teaching the front doors to recognize an enlarged picture of Sirius Black; Filch was suddenly bustling up and down the corridors, boarding up everything from tiny cracks in the walls to mouse holes. Sir Cadogan had been fired. His portrait had been taken back to its isolated landing on the seventh floor, and the Fat Lady resumed. She had been expertly restored, but was still extremely nervous, and had agreed to return to her position only on condition that she was given extra protection. A bunch of surly security trolls had been hired to guard her. They paced the corridor in a menacing group, communicating in grunts and comparing the size of their clubs. It was all a bit too disquieting.

"Really?," Ron questioned, though; eyes rolling, "wasn't either of you that had to roll under the bed last night to avoid getting cut to ribbons!"

    "No, but it was you who I had thought rolled into someone else's bed," Gemini quipped; trying to tackle Ron's maturing ego. - She loved the freckled-boy, truly, but it was obvious that he'd been thriving since the encounter. Why, he'd even became an instant person of eminence. For the first time in his life, people had paid more intentness towards him than to Harry or Gemini, and it was clear that Ron rather enjoyed the experience. Though still severely shaken from that night's events, he was happy to tell anyone who asked what had happened, with a wealth of detail. She, in actuality, could understand where he'd came from, as she knew of his submerged insecurities, but it was the unjust way of going about it all. - "Besides," she continued, "It's evident to all that you weren't the main target here. Mummy dearest just made a rookie mistake, incorrect bed."

    "Since we are on the subject matter, there has been something that I haven't quite made sense of," Hermione admitted, "Why did he sprint? - I mean, having got the wrong bed, why not simply silence Ron and proceed to Harry? Sirius Black proved twelve years ago when he massacred all those muggles that he didn't mind murdering innocent people. And this time he only faced five unarmed boys, four of whom were asleep...I don't know, it just seems a bit out of character from how he's been portrayed. Don't you think?" Gemini, forever one to ensconce true feelings with banter, jested, "Wow, 'Mione, with that mindset you'd make an excellent murderer!" But the lack of laughter only encouraged the girl to endure the bitter, sting of hopefulness. "Tough crowd," she whistled. Thoughtfully, though, Harry authentically answered Hermione's brewing mental acquisitiveness, "He must've known he'd have a job getting back out of the castle once Ron had yelled and woken people up. He'd have to kill the entire house to get back through the portrait hole...then he would've met the teachers."
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