Everlasting (H.P x fem.reader) YEARS 1-4

Year Two: Chapter Fifteen

Y/n's POV 

 Summer was creeping over the grounds around the castle; sky and lake alike turned periwinkle blue and flowers large as cabbages burst into bloom in the greenhouses. But with no Hagrid visible from the castle window, striding the grounds with Fang at his heels, the scene didn't look right to me; no better, in fact, than inside of the castle, were things so horribly wrong.

 Harry, Ron, and I tried to visit Hermione, but visitors were now banned from the hospital wing.

 "We're taking no more chances," Madam Pomfrey told us severely through a crack in the infirmary door. "No, I'm sorry, there's every chance the attacker might come back to finish these people off..." 

I suggested to Ron and Harry that we could accidentally injure ourselves to check on Hermione, and Ron, of course, agreed heartily but Harry warned us that we better not. 

The reason Hermione needed to go to the library so urgently plagued my mind, it could be the key to the Chamber of Secrets and the Heir of Slytherin. With Dumbledore gone, fear had spread as never before, so that the sun warming the castle walls outside seemed to stop at the mullioned windows. There was barely a face to be seen in the school that didn't look worried or tense, and any laughter that rang through the corridors sounded shrill and unnatural and was quickly stifled. 

 I constantly repeated Dumbledore's final words to myself. "I will only truly have left the school when none here are loyal to me...Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it." But what good were these words? Who exactly were they supposed to ask for help, when everyone was just as confused and scared as we were? 

 Hagrid's hints about the spiders were much easier to understand — the trouble was, there didn't seem to be a spider left in the castle to follow. Harry and I looked everywhere we went, helped (rather reluctantly) by Ron. We were hampered, of course, by the fact that we weren't allowed to wander off on our own but had to move around the castle in a pack with the other Gryffindors. 

Most of our fellow students seemed glad we were being shepherded from class to class by teachers, but I found it very irksome. One person, however, seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the atmosphere of terror and suspicion. 

Draco Malfoy was strutting around the school as though he had just been appointed Head Boy. I didn't realize what he was so pleased about until the Potions lesson about two weeks after Dumbledore and Hagrid left, when, sitting right behind Malfoy, I overheard him gloating to Crabbe and Goyle. 

"I always thought Father might be the one who got rid of Dumbledore," he said, not troubling to keep his voice down. "I told you he thinks Dumbeldore's the worst headmaster the school's ever had. Maybe we'll get a decent headmaster now. Someone who won't want the Chamber of Secrets closed. McGonagall won't last long, she's only filling in..." 

 Snape swept past me, making no comments about Hermione's empty chair and cauldron nor my perfect Hair-Raising Potion simmering in my cauldron. 

"Sir," said Malfoy loudly. "Sir, why don't you apply for the headmaster's job?" 

 "Now, now, Malfoy," said Snape, though he couldn't suppress a thin-lipped smile. "Professor Dumbeldore has only been suspended by the school governors. I daresay he'll be back with us soon enough." 

 "Yeah, right," said Malfoy, smirking. "I expect you'd have Father's vote, sir, if you wanted the job — I'll tell Father you're the best teacher here, sir—" 

 Snape smirked as he swept off across the dungeon, fortunately not spotting Seamus Finnigan, who was pretending to vomit in his cauldron. 

 "I'm quite surprised the Mudbloods haven't all packed their bags by now," Malfoy went on. "Bet you five Galleons the next one dies. Pity it wasn't Granger—"