Hermione Granger and the Displaced Sorting

Chapter 18

Hermione Granger and the Displaced Sorting

Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter 18

A/N: This is going to be a running author's note, but if you read on fanfiction and enjoy this story, I post on AO3 and Wattpad as well under the same name and try to reply to all comments on there if I'm able 😊Also if you like my writing, check out miasmantz(dot)com

New A/N: Another update for you lovely readers! Thank you for all the support. I'm procrastinating hardcore on my original works, but you guys make it worth it 😉

Monday, October 19th, 1992

Hermione groaned, collapsing back against her pillow beneath the heavy weight of their silent stares. "Do you two rehearse these interrogations out beforehand?"

"Nah, kid," Sallow replies. "It comes with knowing your friends—"

"And your enemies," Farley finished.

"Something we've been trying our bloody best to get you to realize in our all mentoring."

Hermione rubbed her temples. "You two sound like the Weasley twins."

"See, and because it's a Slytherin's job to make other people's business our business, we you're talking about the little brothers of Billius, Charles, and, currently, Percival Weasley," Farley listed. "And the older brothers of Ronald and Ginerva Weasley."

Hermione blinked because she certainly hadn't known how extensive their family was.

"We also know enough about those parroting fourth years to know that was an insult," Sallow tacked on.

"Not necessarily an insult. Just that they can be a lot when they're in the mood of finishing each other's sentences."

Sallow's brow rose. "Which is all the time."

"So, are you going to tell us which of them threw the curse?" Farley cut in.

Hermione gasped. "The Weasley twins didn't—"

"Not them, your roommates. Which one was it? Was it Parkinson?"

Hermione floundered. She'd been in Slytherin long enough to know not to snitch on anyone. "Uh..." Then, a half-formed memory of her telling the baron rose to the forefront. "How close are you to Baron Bernard?"

That caught both of them off guard, and she couldn't help but feel proud of that.

Sallow scowled. "Who?"

"Baron Bernard," she repeated, knowing full-well that they'd understand the second Bloody Baron left her mouth, but seeing as to how they'd already answered her question with their confusion, she fully intended to relish being on the other side of the fence for once.

Farley arched a brow as a crooked smile pulled one side of her mouth up. "Nice try, Granger. We know every single person at Hogwarts—most of the noble Purebloods do, mind. Nobody living at this school has that name."

Well, if Benard hadn't told Farley and Sallow about her attacker being a Half-blood, then Hermione didn't feel the need to volunteer that information. "No, probably not," she conceded truthfully, since the baron was, in fact, dead. She took a smug sip of the broth, if sips could be smug.

Sallow scoffed and retaliated by popping another one of the chocolates, technically her chocolates, into his mouth. "Yeah, you're definitely feeling better."

"The truth will out, Granger," Farley warned. "Why are you protecting them?"

"Weren't you two the ones to tell me the golden rule of Slytherin is to not air the dirty laundry?"