When Hermione Fights

Today is not my Day

Today is not my Day

The next week went by relatively fast and I even escaped detention on Monday. All because He had called Snape to him. It was incredible, even I can be fortunate! I was very pleased.

Shortly before I wanted to leave the tower to receive my punishment and to see what Professor Snape's sick and alarmingly imaginative brain came up with for me now, an owl tapped on the window. The brown owl flew right to me and the letter said, short in its wording, to not appear today! That my detention was only postponed and not cancelled, that was quite clear! It didn't give much room for hope that his mood had lightened up, which I became aware of. But I knew that this man was vengeful.

Today, on Wednesday, I knew now what kept Snape on his toes. Harry had had another painful attack Tuesday night and he told us that the Dark Lord had felt great, nearly hysterical joy and immeasurable pleasure. And why? That was where the Daily Prophet came in, telling me about it in detail.

I wasn't hungry anymore. Ugh, comprehensible or incomprehensible! Ten Death Eaters managed to break out of Azkaban successfully. And the unflattering pictures showing the escaped criminals, which had also shown Sirius in an unflattering light back then, gave no real hope either that nothing bad would happen. Crazy and manic these evil creatures seemed to be, it gave me a very nightmarish feeling. The article was simply painful because it claimed that the Ministry assumed that Sirius Black, who had been on the run for two years, had helped the prisoners escape. Had I mentioned before that I found Fudge to be incompetent? No, or did I? Now I made up for it: he was incompetent, stupid and the worst choice for his post!

Exasperated, I lifted my head and looked straight at Draco! I knew who got free and I saw that the expression in his grey eyes was a bit shocked as well. But like always, he controlled himself well and didn't let anything else show. Smooth like a Malfoy and slippery in all circumstances. His gaze told me that we should talk. I thought the same and therefore the date was set. I gave the paper wordlessly to the two boys and they read it equally silent and shocked and looked at me with uncertainty.

"It's starting again, isn't it, Harry?" whispered Ron anxiously and Harry only nodded gloomily.

"Yes, now it's really starting. It's not wonder that the Dementors are choosing his side, that's where they belong!" Harry stated resignedly and ran his fingers through his black, scrubby hair.

"You are right, Harry," I replied, agreeing completely.

"They are looking pretty dark and mad, these guys," Ron's face distorted in agony as he watched the moving pictures guardedly.

"These three, they're the Lestranges! The others are not as important...," I whispered quietly and pointed to the first three people. It was a seemingly crazy, black haired woman and two grim-looking men. "We should pay attention to Neville!" I whispered and looked around apprehensively to see if he was already there.

"Why?" Ron and Harry asked at the same time and in moments like these I was more than glad to have Rita's book.

"These three tortured his parents to insanity with the Cruciatus. They have been in St. Mungos for fifteen years," I reported quickly and pointed to Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange. "And before you ask, I have the information from old newspaper articles in the library," I didn't have any trouble lying.

"Wow, that's heavy! You and your knowledge from books! Why did he never mention anything?" they both wanted to know curiously and without a clue.

"Do you ever do that, Harry?" I asked perceptively, while he was sitting rigidly and was looking around without any aim, after this sad news and the realization that he too was not one to tell about his life.