Malignantly Cursed

4

Seventh year started out hard. The whole castle was still mourning their previous headmaster. McGonagall took over as Headmistress which left them with a new Transfiguration teacher. Snape was fired, obviously, which left them with a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher too.

The new professor was really good. She was very skilled and made each class entertaining and challenging. She was harsher too, not believing in slacking. Being among the few people who believed Harry that Lord Voldemort was back, it was her mission to equip all of them with the knowledge and skills to defend them.

Harry was loving the class, as were her friends.

People were ignoring her less than last year. Boys came up to her, teased her, most made fun, and when she would glare, their friends would laugh and they'd return to them.

"You're pretty," Hermione told her, when she complained about this. "You're pretty and controversial and they're bored."

"How can they be bored?" Harry huffed. "We're on the brink of falling into another war!"

Hermione shrugged helplessly.

It annoyed Harry to no end. Sure, she could see how she began to fill into her uniform. And yes, she took time now to style her hair so it wasn't a mess. Her eyes stood out as her strongest feature, and she was one of those lucky people (according to Lavender) who had naturally dark pink lips. She was pretty now, as was every girl in her year compared to when they were eleven. She didn't even mind if some boys came up to her to flirt—only they weren't flirting! Or their version didn't constitute as normal flirting.

Harry was still the laughing stock of the wizarding world. An easy target. It seems she simply garnered more attention for her looks but the people who were attracted to her, still enjoyed making jokes at her expense.

She pushed past the second boy that day who made what he considered a clever joke about them being crazy together, and made her way up to her dorm. Hermione came a while later, barging in and sliding her bed curtains open.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Fine," Harry clipped.

"Do you want to go to the library with me?"

"I'd rather not be around people, right now."

"Do you want to visit Hagrid?"

"Maybe another time."

Hermione frowned sadly at her.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, Hermione, I'm fine," Harry even smiled to show her. "Really. I just don't feel like being around anyone right now. Go on to the library without me."

"Okay," Hermione finally agreed and waved goodbye at her. Harry waited for the door to click shut. Pointing her wand at the bed curtains, she made them close and pulled out the papers she was hiding from Hermione.

She was on the year 1982, and slowly making her way backwards through the logs. This was exactly the type of obsessive behaviour that would have Hermione admit her to St. Mungo's, never mind the fact that when she had an instinct and followed it, she was right. After all, Malfoy turned out to be a Death Eater, didn't he?

Every once in a while, Harry came across a name she recognized. Either the person or family name. She had no idea what to do with the information that Joseph Abbott, Hannah Abbott's father, rented out Room 37 at least twice a month for three years. A quick, curious glance at other rooms in those same years showed that Joseph had no particular favour for Room 37 and that he visited the Leaky Cauldron three or four times a week. Harry only hoped Hannah didn't have half-siblings she didn't know about.