𝔞 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥; 𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔶 𝔭𝔬𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯

xii. the forbidden forest

THERE WAS a soft murmur.

A gentle murmur floated through the stillness of the night, a sound so delicate that it seemed to dance on the edges of Emmalina's consciousness.

Awakening with a start, her heart raced as she opened her eyes wide to the enveloping darkness, a shroud that felt both familiar and unsettling. The remnants of sleep slipped away like wisps of fog, and with them came the vivid recollection of the intricate plan she and her friends had meticulously woven together—a daring scheme to transport Norbert to the safety of Charlie's friends.

As she took a moment to breathe, her heartbeat gradually steadied, and she found solace in the thought that the sound was likely nothing more than Hermione stirring, rather than some lurking spectre of the night. With a cautious resolve, she turned to sit upright, her eyelids fluttering as they adjusted to the dim light. Her fingers danced across the surface of the desk beside her, searching for her wand, a lifeline in the encroaching shadows.

Murmuring an incantation under her breath, she summoned the magic within her wand, which erupted into a brilliant, blinding glow that momentarily obscured her vision.

When the light subsided, the sight before her was one that tugged at her heartstrings and surprised her just the same. 

Hermione's face was a canvas of sorrow, streaked with tears that glistened like dewdrops in the morning sun. Her eyes brimmed with fresh moisture, and her nose had taken on a tender blush, a soft pink that spoke of her distress. The wild, bushy curls that framed her face were in delightful disarray, cascading around her head like a lion's majestic mane, a testament to her emotional turmoil.

"Bloody hell, you're telling me they got caught by McGonagall and lost almost two hundred house points in one go," Ron spoke in disbelief, repeating the words Emmalina had told him. His blue eyes flickered around the room that had slowly turned into a prison for him - the Hospital wing.

"A hundred fifty but yes, you got the gist," Emmalina spoke with immense sadness. "Neville also lost some points, I think, but honestly the way Hermione was crying was hard to understand much of the story."

Emmalina had decided to visit Ron first thing in the morning in order to tell him the whole story. She wanted him to hear the whole thing through a verifiable source rather than the gossip that had already begun to spread that Ron would have undoubtedly heard: Harry Potter, the famous Harry Potter, their hero of two Quidditch matches, had lost all those points, he and a couple of other stupid first years by doing something equally stupid.

"We'll lose the lead Harry had won in the last Quidditch match," Ron spoke, wide blue eyes reflecting his utter horror. "I mean McGonagall is the head of our house, couldn't she have cut us some slack?"

"You know how stern she is. There was no way she would have done anything like that."

"Still imagine being the teacher that causes your own house to lose! I would have died of shame."

Emmalina gave him a shrug. "How's your hand?" she questioned instead, diverting the topic of conversation.

Ron raised his hand which was heavily bandaged. "Madam Pomfrey said it's slowly recovering so I'll be fine. Might even remove the bandage today."

"That's good at least."

A moment of silence passed them.

"Honestly," Emmalina began, desperate to unburden her worries. "I'm scared for Harry and Hermione and even Neville. Everyone was desperate to see Slytherin lose and now..."