Forthcoming

2.11 Aragog

Part Twenty-seven.
Book 2.
Chapter 11.

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.

Hadrian had tried numerous different times to see Hermione, but visitors were now barred from the hospital wing. It was noticeable to all his friends and Hadrian himself, that he was always on edge. He'd lash out more often, and stayed to himself.

"We're taking no more chances," Madam Pomfrey told him 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...."

With Dumbledore gone, fear has 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.

Potter, Weasley, and Hadrian had became closer than before. The boys were able to set aside their differences for the safety of Hermione's life.

Hagrid's hint about the spiders was far easier to understand – the trouble was, there didn't seem to be a single spider left in the castle to follow. Hadrian looked everywhere he went, helped by Potter and (rather reluctantly) by Weasley. They were hampered, of course, by the fact that they weren't allowed to wander off on their own. Most of their fellow students seemed glad that they were being shepherded from class to class by teachers, but Hadrian found it very irksome.

One person, however, seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the atmosphere of terror and suspicion. Draco was strutting around the school as though he had just been appointed Head Boy. Draco would often gloat to Hadrian, Theodore, and Blaise about the circumstances. Despite the annoyance that would flood into him whenever Draco opened his mouth, he would listen. At the end of the day, he was his best friend.

"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 Dumbledore'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 Potter, making no comment about Hermione's empty seat and cauldron.

"Sir," said Draco 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 Dumbledore has only been suspended by the 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 to apply for the job – I'll tell Father you're the best teacher here, sir –"

Snape smirked as he swept off around the dungeon, fortunately not spotting Seamus Finnigan, who was pretending to vomit into 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. I hope it's Granger –"

The bell rang at that moment, which was lucky; at Draco's last words, Weasley had leapt off his stool, and in the scramble to collect bags and books, his attempts to reach Draco went unnoticed.