January 6th 1997
Harper and Hermione were sprawled over either end of the Gryffindor couch, their legs tangled as they draped them over each other. They spent most of the evening trading notes for classes in the common room before Harper went into detail about her lesson with Dumbledore today. Once again they entered the pensieve, seeing snippets of Tom Riddle's life, this time it was a dinner with Slughorn's Slug Club. As Harper watched the memory roll out, she could hardly believe that Voldemort was once that handsome student.
His stern posture, that parvenu raise of the head and subtle smirk on his lips. Young Tom Riddle almost reminded her of another affluent Slytherin she knew. She pressed her tongue against her bottom teeth roughly at the premise.
"So Tom Riddle was in Slughorn's Slug Club?" Hermione asked, trying to understand Harper's retelling.
She nodded. "Dumbledore said they were actually quite close during his time at Hogwarts."
"I'm surprised. With Slughorn's er- whimsical nature, I would have thought Tom would disclose to a Professor more... resourceful."
Harper let out a small laugh. "You might be right, but I think he found Slughorn to be an easy target amongst others."
"Target?"
"So after dinner, Tom lagged behind to question Slughorn about something from the restricted section in the library. Something 'rather odd about a bit of rare magic.' Weirdly enough the memory goes all cloudy and Slughorn shouts at Tom to leave. Dumbledore's told me the memory has been meddled with."
"By Slughorn?" Hermione frowned, sitting up.
"Yes," Harper said. "Now he's told me to retrieve the real memory from Slughorn so we can learn what Tom was really asking."
"Harper this could be it!" Hermione's eyes lit up. "This could be You-Know-Who's key to his downfall. Perhaps he forced Slughorn to tamper with the memory."
"I don't think so, Dumbledore said Slughorn felt ashamed by whatever he taught Riddle."
Hermione chewed her cheek, looking thoughtful. "It doesn't change how monumental this information could be for you, Harp."
"I know," she sighed, tapping her fingers on the open book in her lap. "Now I just need to figure out how to get it from Slughorn."
"Don't tell me, you're talking about more bloody Slug Club," Ron's voice interjected as he dumped himself on the chair opposite them. Hermione's form promptly straightened, any light in her face dispersing like a cloud shrouding sunlight. Ron took one look in her direction and she was up on her feet, leaving the common room. "Standard," he sighed.
"I'm so sick of this," Harper said, righting herself on the couch and organising the shambles of parchment. "The wizarding world is literally at the risk of calamity and two of my best friends can't even stand to be in the same room as each other."
"You're telling me," Ron exasperated. "She's the one who keeps acting like I killed Crookshanks and paraded his coat as a new winter scarf."
"Quite the image, Ron; thought of doing that before?" Harper raised a brow.
He slumped back into the chair, crossing his arms. "Many times."
"She's not going to let up, can you please just talk to her? I'm begging you Ron, reconcile for the sake of my sanity."
"Don't you think I've been trying, Harp?" Ron whined. "She wants nothing to do with me. Doesn't help that Lav is constantly by my side." He glimpsed over his shoulder, checking she wasn't around.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl Who Lived (Draco Malfoy x OC)
Fanfiction"Must be tough, everyone loves you, don't they? So goddamn perfect. They don't see it but I do, Potter. I can see straight through you." "And what do you see, Malfoy?" "That you're a mess, aren't you?" She stared at him, rivalling his own expression...
