A Changed Lestrange (1-2) (under editing)

19: Riddle Me This

"I can't believe it!" exclaimed Ron for the dozenth time. "I was so sure it was Malfoy!"

Hermione had remained in the Hospital Wing for several weeks. There was a flurry of rumours about her disappearance when the rest of the school arrived back from their Christmas holidays, because, of course, as a Muggleborn, everyone thought she had been attacked - presumably by Ashton.

It turned out all their work had been for nothing. Malfoy was not the Heir of Slytherin, something Ron claimed he made quite obvious - but they had managed to find out that the Chamber had been opened once fifty years ago and the location of the Malfoy family's secret stash of dark magic material, and he intended on informing his father immediately.

Ashton, Harry and Ron went to visit Hermione every evening. Ashton, who soon found out Hermione was actually the glue of the four's friendship, struggled to handle Harry and Ron without Hermione around, so he visited her even more frequently, sometimes first thing in the mornings.

"Yes, we get it, Ron." said Ashton plainly. "You suspected Malfoy. We all did. Stop banging on about it."

Hermione's spirits had been greatly improved by the fact that all the cat hair on her face had disappeared and her eyes were slowly turning back to brown. However, this didn't stop her from looking disappointed when they had told her that they had found no new leads to the Heir of Slytherin.

"What's that?" asked Harry, pointing towards something gold sticking out from under Hermione's pillow.

"Just a get well card," said Hermione hastily, attempting to poke it out of sight, but Ron was too quick for her. He pulled it out, flicked it open and read aloud:

"To the lovely Miss Granger, wishing you a speedy recovery, from your concerned teacher, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honourary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award."

All three boys looked up at Hermione, disgusted.

"You sleep with this under your pillow?" Ron said.

"Give it here," said Ashton as Ron tossed him the card, before he headed eagerly towards the open window beside Hermione's bed. He ripped it up into a million pieces before chucking it outside, watching as each piece landed in front of an bewildered Hufflepuff.

"Oh no." he said mockingly. "It slipped from my grasp. I'm dreadfully sorry, Hermione."

"You did that on purpose!" she squealed.

Madam Pomfrey appeared right on cue, sweeping over with Hermione's evening dose of medicine and shooed the three boys out of the room.

"Is Lockhart the smarmiest bloke you've ever met, or what?" Ron said. Suddenly, an angry outburst from the floor above reached their ears.

"That's Filch," Harry muttered.

"You don't think someone else has been attacked?" said Ron tensely.

They stood still, their heads inclined towards Filch's voice, which sounded quite hysterical.

"... even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is it, I'm going to Dumbledore..."

His footsteps receded as they heard a distant slam of a door. 

The three boys poked their head around the corner. Filch had clearly been manning his usual lookout post: they were once again on the spot where Mrs Norris had been attacked. They saw at a glance what Filch had been shouting about. A great flood of water stretched over half the corridor, and it looked as though it was still seeping from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Now Filch had stopped shouting, they could hear Myrtle's wails echoing off the bathroom walls.