Harry Potter and the Dastardly Hufflepuff Girls

Harry Potter and the Dastardly Hufflepuff Girls

Snape hadn't arrived yet for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the classroom was filled with low murmurs, like the sludgy percolations of a Vigoroot potion. Each student occasionally paused in the middle of idle banter to glance apprehensively at the door. There was a certain resilience in their jaw muscles, which were prepared to snap shut the moment Professor Snape entered the room.

One cluster of students, unlike the rest, was conversing about matters of deeper significance than Quidditch matches or the latest Wizard Wheezes.

"I heard them talking!" Harry Potter argued in a whisper. "Snape was offering to help Malfoy with his project for Volde--"

"Don't say his name, Harry!" Hermione hissed. "You-Know-Who's name might set off his Dark Mark or something..." She tapped on her wrist and nodded toward Draco Malfoy, who sat one row ahead of them and off to the right, next to Crabbe and Goyle.

"Right. Well, someone from the Order has to try again at Borgin & Burkes. We have to find out what Malfoy is trying to repair," Harry said.

"How would Quidditch work then?" Ron asked loudly.

Hermione leaned away from Harry and glanced at Ron, who, she was surprised to see, was no longer part of their conference, but rather was chatting with the two Hufflepuff girls in front of them, who had spun on their stools to face backward.

"Really, Ron!" Hermione chastised him. "We were in the middle of an important conversation."

"But Melody just said that if she were headmaster she'd eliminate the four houses," Ron explained. "I want to know how Quidditch teams would work."

Melody Cloud and Arlene Pepperton had shared many classes with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The Hufflepuff girls were clearly best friends, more interested in each other than the rest of the class, and usually sat in the back row, where they whispered and giggled. During first year, they'd had crushes on the famous Harry Potter, and had followed him around for months, teasing him and pestering him with a thousand trivial questions about Muggle pajamas and desserts.

Melody was blond and blue-eyed, and Arlene brunette with black eyes. They were both pretty girls with long, smooth hair, and Hermione wasn't surprised that Ron had become distracted by them. Once in awhile, the girls' behavior amused Hermione, like when they'd made sarcastic jabs at Professor Trelawny during Divination. I see a woman...she's confused...she has absolutely no idea what's happening...the words that come out of her mouth just float away, meaningless. This year, Melody had arrived at Hogwarts a foot taller, with legs like stilts, so that she gave off the impression of a flamingo. Arlene possessed feline grace and--unfortunately for her--a hawk nose that was a bit like Snape's.

"The houses were created by the four founders," Arlene said. "You can't break tradition."

"The founders were prejudiced," Melody said, waving a long skinny arm. "And, anyhow, we all take the same classes. We're only divided into groups for sleeping, which seems pointless. And I hate it that from day one at Hogwarts, when you wear the Sorting Hat, you're branded with a crude stereotype. Gryffindors are all heroes, Ravenclaws are nerds, Slytherins are wicked pureblood snobs--"

Malfoy, who sat to the right of the Hufflepuff girls, whirled and exclaimed, "You're just jealous!" His voice became calm and steely, and he laughed. "After all, what are Hufflepuffs? The losers, that's what." He ran his hand over the Slytherin badge on his robes, as though to polish it.

Crabbe and Goyle bellowed with laughter.

"Hufflepuff," Goyle snorted.

"Losers," Crabbe grunted.

"What was it the Sorting Hat said..." Malfoy feigned to remember, furrowing his brow. "Hufflepuff takes all the rest...in other words, the boring and untalented."

Crabbe and Goyle erupted in heaving snorts, the joke equally funny the second time for them.

"Cedric Diggory was in Hufflepuff," Melody bragged.

"Yeah, and he was so talented he got himself killed," Malfoy shot back.

"DON'T INSULT CEDRIC!" Harry yelled, jumping to his feet.

Crabbe and Goyle guffawed.

"Harry, shhh..." Hermione whispered. "Snape could have been walking through the door. You know how he dislikes you; don't give him an excuse to issue detention."

Harry sat down and took a deep breath, which was a mistake because the odor from the ingredient cabinet was rather like mold and sewage.

Melody and Arlene spun away from Draco and vigorously ignored him. Twenty seconds later, Hermione couldn't believe Crabbe and Goyle were still laughing. She glared at them, expecting to see their chortling piggish faces, and instead saw vapid expressions and their lips smacking on Honeyduke's Sour Spinners. But she definitely still heard shrieking laughter...perhaps someone had cast a Pandemonium curse on her ears.

"Why is Snape so late?" Harry asked, throwing a significant look at Hermione.

"Maybe he won't show up for the next 55 minutes," Ron said hopefully, consulting his watch.

Arlene and Melody were lifting an age-worn, wooden box onto their desk. There seemed to be air holes drilled into the top and sides of the box, upon which strange, cramped symbols were painted in red ink. The grunting and shrieking was coming from inside the box.

"What is that?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Our pet," Melody said. Arlene unlatched the lid, flipped it open, and scooped up a small monkey about the size of a Butterbeer bottle.

"Hey, you can't bring pets to class...not to Snape's class!" Ron exclaimed.

"We know," Arlene said with a smirk. The monkey hopped on her shoulder, pulled on her hair, and screeched.

"Meet Eduardo Smith," Melody said, gesturing at the creature.

Malfoy sneered. "What a stupid name. What a disgusting animal. Is it a relative of yours, Pepperton?"

Crabbe and Goyle's chuckles chorused Draco's remark.

The monkey reminded Hermione of a gourmet cup of cocoa. It had white fur around the face and gradations of tan and brown fur along its body, ending dramatically in black feet and a long black tail. Its face, however, resembled that of a wicked little elf, with a pointy nose and glittering eyes.

"Eduardo is a flying monkey," Arlene said.

"A flying monkey?" Ron asked. "I've never heard of such a thing."

"Neither have I," Hermione said.

"There is no way that monkey can fly," Malfoy said, crossing his arms. "It hasn't got any wings. What's it do, ride a broom?" His eyes lit up. "If so, Potter might want to consider using it as Keeper on Gryffindor's team. Even a monkey would be better than Weasley!"

Ron flushed so that his red skin managed to clash with the orange of his hair, while Crabbe and Goyle snorted.

"He doesn't ride a broom," Melody replied. "How much do you want to bet Eduardo can't fly? Seriously."

"I think he can fly," Hermione said with a knowing smile.

"What does a mudblood know about magical creatures," Malfoy growled.

"Wingardium leviosa!" Arlene sang, tilting her wand at the monkey. Eduardo Smith floated into the air, bewildered.

"Behold the flying monkey," Melody said in triumph.

Malfoy shook his head in disgust. "You're exactly like the insufferable Weasel twins sometimes."

"But these aren't blokes," Goyle stammered.

"And, er, they've not got...red hair," Crabbe stated.

These were the most astute comments they had ever made.

Suddenly, the murmuring in the classroom ceased, chairs scooted across the stone floor, and books fell open with a bang. Then there was total silence.

Snape stood in the doorway. His intense, coal-black eyes were fixed upon Eduardo Smith hovering in the air.

Both Arlene and Melody were facing Harry, Ron, and Hermione, so they couldn't see Snape, although they immediately sensed the change in atmosphere like a cold wind blowing through the room.

"Crap!" Melody exclaimed.

"Restoro!" Arlene squealed, waving her wand. Eduardo Smith plummeted into Arlene's outstretched arms. Alas, Eduardo Smith, disoriented and upset, leaped out of her arms, sprang off the desk, and landed in Hermione's massive head of hair, where he dug his feet into her curls and began yanking her hair while he screeched.

"OW!" Hermione yelled. "Get it off!"

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle hooted with mirth.

"Sorry Hermione..." Arlene apologized, trying to pry the monkey out of Hermione's hair. "Impedimentia!" she said, finally, in desperation, pointing her wand at Eduardo Smith and freezing him in position. Although the monkey was in a rigid state, its claws were entangled deep in Hermione's hair, and both Harry and Ron had to help extricate the animal.

"Almost got it," Ron said as he pulled at a clump of hair that was knotted around the monkey's paw. "Er, you don't know a Charm to untangle a monkey from hair, Hermione...?"

Hermione looked like she was going to cry. It also looked like she was wearing a hay bale on her head, by the time they'd freed the monkey.

Malfoy wiped a tear from his eye as his shoulders shook with silent laughter.

Most of the students were staring, gape-jawed, at the towering inferno of rage that was Professor Snape. His black cloak seemed to billow with anger, his black eyes were blazing, and all the blood had drained from his skin. Yet he was calm and still, like the eye of a hurricane.

"Get...it...out...of my classroom!" Snape hissed.

"Wha...?" Arlene mumbled, trembling, as she held the stiff monkey in her hands. She stared, wide-eyed, at Professor Snape.

"Get that monkey out of my classroom!" Snape seethed at her. He walked briskly to his massive desk.

Arlene gasped. Melody turned bright red. The girls quivered under Snape's wrath, and they both remained petrified, much like Eduardo.

"Miss Cloud and Miss Pepperton, thanks to you, I am deducting 20 points from Hufflepuff," Snape growled. "One of you will join me for detention on Saturday at 10:00, choose between yourselves." Harry silently admired Snape's brilliance for cruel punishments. Being separated for an afternoon would devastate the girls more than a dual detention. "I suggest one of you hurry to dispose of that monkey," Snape continued, "because if you're not back in three minutes, you will each write a foot of parchment on the process of harvesting Shadowseeds." His eyes burned through them.

Melody finally snapped out of her paralysis and grabbed the rigid monkey from Arlene. Her long legs seemed to blur as she ran out the door.

Snape paced smoothly in front of the class as though no disturbance had occurred. "Homework." He waved his wand, and scrolls flew onto his desk. "I sincerely hope these are better than last week's essays, although my heart does not brim with optimism." He sneered. "Today's lesson is Ferinis. Who can tell me the easiest way to identify one?"

Hermione's and Draco's hands shot into the air.

"Mister Malfoy," Snape said, raising his eyebrows.

"I'm sorry sir, it's just that..." Draco said, forcing himself to remain solemn, "I heard Potter say that you ought to give yourself detention for being five minutes late to class."

Snape whirled on Harry with a deadly look. "Is that so? Well, Mister Potter, ten points from Gryffindor."

"I never said that!" Harry exclaimed.

"And another ten points for lying," Snape added. He paced in front of the class and glared at them. "The best way to identify a Ferini is by the harmonics in its voice."

"I knew that," Hermione mouthed under her breath.

"A Dark Ferini can use his or her voice to control you," Snape said. "This occurs without the use of spells. Rhythm and tone combinations alone can hypnotize you. It is important that you recognize a Ferini-trained wizard immediately, and be able to withstand the lure of his voice long enough to counteract with an appropriate spell. Partner up and decide which spells you would use to defend yourself. In a few minutes we'll practice with some recordings...I expect most of you will fail miserably..."

Melody Cloud returned to the room a minute later, breathless, and flopped onto her stool. She and Arlene stuck their heads together and whispered.

Draco poked Arlene on the arm. "That was bloody brilliant," he said over the drone of voices. "I never imagined Granger's hair could get any bigger."

Melody and Arlene turned toward them, and Hermione saw that they were giggling hysterically, crying, hiccupping, their faces beet red.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, leaning forward.

"Is, uh, Eduardo all right?" Ron inquired.

"They're not crying, they're laughing!" Hermione snapped, still trying to smooth down her hair. "It isn't funny, you know--"

"But it is," Malfoy said with a cruel smile.

Melody and Arlene couldn't speak, they were laughing so hard. They turned back to each other and their bodies twitched with stifled hysterics.

Ron Weasley took a detour on his way back to the Gryffindor Common Room, passing through the seventh floor corridor, past the tapestry of trolls in tutus. Harry had mentioned that Malfoy might be using the Room of Requirement, so Ron, whenever possible, passed by to see if anyone was lurking in the corridor. This was the first opportunity he'd had to patrol, however, because he usually opted to meet Lavender in private nooks during his spare moments.

It was late, almost curfew, and the hallway lay dim, illuminated by a few fading torches that would soon extinguish. To his surprise, he saw Melody Cloud and Arlene Pepperton seated on the floor, leaning against the thick stone wall, gazing forlornly at the troll tapestry. The door to the Room of Requirement would be just behind them.

"Er, hello, ladies," Ron said.

"What are you doing up here?" Arlene asked. She pushed forward off the wall and uncurled with the elegance of a panther.

"Nothing much," Ron replied.

"Same here," Arlene said. Her dark eyes flashed.

Melody blushed.

"Yeah, me too," Ron said. "Um, goodnight then."

"'Night Ron," they chimed.

Hermione sat on the velvet sofa in front of the Common Room fireplace with her nose buried in a dusty Arithmancy tome, while her quill floated in midair and scratched her words onto parchment whenever she spoke. Harry sat in a leather armchair with his Potions book in his lap, but his eyes constantly wandered to the fire where he stared with deep concentration, although his mind was far away from his physical surroundings.

Hermione flicked her wand at the quill, and it ceased writing. "You're late," she said as Ron arrived. "As a prefect, that's a bad example. I suppose Lavender wanted to meet Won-Won in a deserted classroom..."

"Not that it's any of your business, but I wasn't with Lavender," Ron said, sinking onto the other end of the sofa. "We had a row this afternoon."

"Then where have you been?" Hermione asked in a tone that indicated she didn't really care.

"I saw those Hufflepuff girls, Melody and Arlene."

"What?" Hermione asked, looking up sharply.

"I stopped by the seventh floor corridor to patrol," Ron clarified. "They were sitting on the floor, right in front of where the door would be."

"Are you sure it was them?" Harry asked, breaking his rapport with the crackling fire. "It could have been Crabbe and Goyle under the influence of Polyjuice Potion." He pulled a folded parchment out of his robes. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he intoned, accompanied by a flick of his wand. He scrutinized the map that appeared. "No one is up there now."

"I thought it was them," Ron said, "but, now that you mention it, we didn't say all that much...I dunno."

"Honestly, Ron, what kind of reconnaissance is that?" Hermione criticized.

"Oh, and you did such a terrific job at Borgin & Burkes," Ron retaliated with heavy sarcasm. "'What did Draco just ask about...I want to buy him a present,'" he squeaked in falsetto.

"Shut up, Ron!" Hermione said.

"Both of you--stop it," Harry pleaded. He pushed up his glasses and tapped the parchment with his wand. "Mischief managed. Ron, did they say anything that might indicate who they really were?"

Ron thought for a moment. "Now that you mention it, they called me 'Ron,' not 'Weasel.'"

"Then they really were Arlene and Melody," Harry said. He drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair. "What were they doing in the corridor?" he mused.

"They could be Draco's guards," Hermione said. "Crabbe and Goyle are too stupid to be trusted, and this project is important to Malfoy. He may have found new volunteers."

"They're not Slytherins though," Ron pointed out. "And Malfoy was teasing them about Hufflepuff and their pet monkey in class. They're not his friends."

"It was an act," Hermione said. "You saw how they laughed at what their...what that awful creature did to my hair. I thought it was very suspicious that they started talking to us today, out of the blue. And they never talked to Draco before today either. I think that fight was an act for our benefit, so we wouldn't suspect that they're working together."

"Maybe," Harry said.

"Guys, come on," Ron said in disbelief. "Do your hear yourselves? Hermione's just sore that their monkey frizzed up her hair. Those girls aren't helping Malfoy."

Hermione stood up and grabbed her books. "It's no use talking to you about it! I don't think Ron sees very clearly when it comes to silly girls. Goodnight!" She stormed off to the girl's dormitory.

Ron looked at Harry. "What was that about?" he asked, bewildered. "All I meant was that they're from decent wizarding families. Not a Death Eater in the lot. Arlene's mum writes those dumb comics in the Prophet, and Melody's related to Gilderoy Lockhart. They're a flaky bunch, yes, but hardly evil."

"Lockhart tried to erase our memories," Harry reminded him.

The Great Hall echoed with slurps and swishes as the students munched their breakfasts and owls swooped down to deliver mail. Harry, Ron, and Hermoine were eating earlier than usual, for a variety of reasons. The edge of the ceiling dome glowed with the first light of sunrise, a spectacular array of muted orange stripes, swirling pink clouds, and a gold halo streaked with violet--a sight which was lost upon Harry, who stared straight ahead with puffy eyes.

"Drivel," Hermione muttered, flipping the page of her Daily Prophet.

"What's wrong with you today?" Ron asked, elbowing Harry. Indeed, Harry seemed groggy this morning and his hair stuck up more disheveled than usual.

Harry turned sluggishly toward Ron as milk dripped off the spoon he'd been absently stirring in his cereal bowl for five minutes. "What's wrong is that you woke me up early for no apparent reason and dragged me down to breakfast!"

"Oh. Sorry," Ron said. "Did I?" He stuffed a crumb cake into his mouth. "Awhyayooheezoerwee," he mumbled at Hermione.

Hermione shifted her paper and peered out from behind it. "Excuse me?" she asked with a frosty demeanor.

"Whahoodinzoeree," Ron attempted again through the mass of crumb cake filling his mouth.

"Are you trying to speak to me?" Hermione inquired. "It's not polite to talk with your mouth full." She replaced the paper in front of her face.

Ron swallowed the cake. "What are you doing here so early?" he repeated.

Hermione shifted the paper again and sighed. "I woke up early," she replied impatiently, and again moved the paper in front of her face.

"Why?" Ron asked.

Hermione threw down the paper. "I opened my eyes this morning and I was awake. It was early! These things happen occasionally!" She snatched up the paper.

Ron raised his cup to a hovering teapot. "Lovely morning," he mumbled sarcastically as it poured. "I'm glad we're all in a merry mood." He yawned. "At least it's Friday."

"Today's Thursday," Harry said dully.

"What? Oh for the love of...!" Ron groaned, and then swore under his breath.

Harry noticed Melody and Arlene bent over a page of parchment at the Hufflepuff table. The notion of doing homework this early in the morning made his head ache. Arlene's mouth was curled in a wicked smile as scanned the Great Hall, and her smoky eyes met Harry's for an instant. She nudged Melody, and they both glanced in Harry's direction. Then Melody pointed at something on the parchment, Arlene nodded, rolled the parchment quickly and thrust it into her pocket.

The Hufflepuff girls walked toward the Gryffindor table and stopped beside Harry and Ron. Melody clutched the infamous wooden box in her hands.

"Good morning," Melody said.

"Not really," Ron muttered as he picked cranberries out of a muffin and threw them onto a plate.

"Hey, Hermione," Arlene said, "we just wanted to stop by and apologize for what happened yesterday in class."

Hermione set down her newspaper and glared at them.

"Eduardo wants to apologize, too," Melody said, and flipped open the lid of the box.

Hermoione cried out and flung her hands over her head for protection as Eduardo sprang out of the box. This time, however, the monkey leaped onto Harry's shoulder, where it shrieked in his ear. The next thing Harry knew, the monkey had hopped into his lap, and its nimble fingers were rummaging through the pockets of Harry's robe.

"Eduardo!" Melody reprimanded, to no effect.

The monkey chattered triumphantly as it pulled the Marauders Map out of Harry's pocket and jumped onto the floor. To Harry's horror, the animal scampered across the Great Hall toward the massive double doors.

"Hey!" Harry shouted, jumping out of his chair. "The monkey stole my map!"

Arlene and Melody just stared at him, startled, as though they didn't understand what was happening.

Harry pushed them out of the way and chased after the monkey. Breakfasting students turned to watch the commotion.

"Accio Harry's Map!" Hermione's voice rang out. She had pointed her wand at the fleeing monkey, who now was being pulled backwards as the map rushed toward Hermione. Eduardo refused to release his tight grip, and ended up dangling from the map as it lodged firmly into Hermione's hand. Finally, the monkey let go and tumbled to the floor. Arlene grabbed him.

"Naughty boy," she scolded.

Melody's long arm reached for a banana on the table. She broke off a piece and handed it to the monkey. "Poor Eduardo, he's had quite a scare."

In Hermione's opinion, Eduardo did not look as scared as he did evil, with his gleaming beady eyes and shriveled face.

"You really should train your pet," Hermione told the girls. She held out the map for Harry. Melody snatched it, glanced at the blank parchment for a moment, and politely passed it to Harry.

"We are," Arlene said. "We're trying."

Melody waved. "Bye guys. Sorry about that. We've got to go!"

The girls laughed as they skipped across the Great Hall.

Lavender Brown slid into a seat next to Hermione, across from Ron. "Won-Won, I've been thinking about yesterday, and...I forgive you!" she bubbled, and clapped her hands to applaud her decision.

Hermione nearly gagged on a bite of toast, and Ron looked as though he wanted to drown in his cup of tea.

"I have to go brush my teeth," Ron exclaimed, pretending to look at his watch.

"Don't be rude, Ronald," Hermione smirked. "Eat breakfast with your girlfriend."

"I already ate breakfast!" Ron said. "And now my teeth are dirty!"

Harry squirmed in his chair. Those two were driving him crazy, and all he wanted to do was go back to sleep.

"A relationship is about spending time with the person you love," Hermione said. Lavender nodded in agreement. "There's no reason to suddenly run off--" Hermione frowned as Harry discreetly pointed toward the doors. She turned her head and saw Cormac McLaggen strut into the Great Hall. "See you later," Hermione squeaked as she pushed back her chair and stood.

Ron, suspicious, turned and saw Cormac heading toward the Gryffindor table. "But Hermione, your boyfriend just arrived. Don't you love him, don't you want to spend time with him..."

"Oh, Ron," Hermione muttered quickly, "you don't understand anything at all. Cormac is strong, he's smart, he's so good at Quidditch...he's overwhelming...a girl can only be exposed to such manliness for short periods of time otherwise I'll-faint-my-heart- might-burst-with-so-much-emotion-"

She sprinted for the doors, forgetting to take her newspaper.

Lavender seemed perturbed as she sipped her tea, probably disappointed that her heart didn't rupture in Ron's presence.

Saturday brought rain and a gray gloom that permeated the castle walls. Ron seemed to be summoning all his willpower to turn himself transparent as he slumped on a sofa in the Common Room. Lavender practically hung from his neck as she babbled about fun things they could do together in the summer, like learn ballroom dancing and write love poems to each other every day.

Hermione had stormed off to the library earlier.

The only good thing about today, Harry decided, was that Quidditch practice was scheduled for 11:00. Soaring on his broomstick, watching his teammates, he'd momentarily forget his other troubles. Unfortunately, Harry knew, from watching the second hand crawl around the clock face, the next hour would feel like a century. One of the duller centuries, definitely. Even the Half-Blood Prince couldn't help--there were no notes in the margins regarding spells to accelerate time or to make one's friends stop sulking and bickering.

Maybe he'd wander around the castle and hope to bump into Ginny somewhere. Harry slid out of his chair and walked to the portrait hole.

"Where you going, mate?" Ron called out. A desperate, pleading expression flitted across his face.

"I'll be back soon," Harry mumbled.

Downstairs, he wandered through a few corridors and realized that the castle ghosts had a tough life. Or death...afterlife, whatever. Hogwarts wasn't always an exciting place, and the ghosts had an eternity to roam the castle seeking things to do. No wonder they tended to interfere in students' lives.

Frustration seared through Harry's veins--here he was wasting the day being bored while Malfoy was busy scheming and perhaps finalizing an evil project for Voldemort. If only he knew what it was! Harry pulled out the Marauders Map. The seventh floor corridor lay deserted. Snape was in his office...with Malfoy! Harry's jaw dropped. In the square representing Snape's office were three names: Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy, and Arlene Pepperton.

Clenching the map, Harry rushed to the library and found Hermione in a corner, hidden behind a stack of books.

"Look!" Harry whispered, setting the map in front of Hermione. "Snape, Malfoy, and Arlene, together!" He stabbed his finger on Snape's office.

Hermione leaned over the map and thought for a moment. "Arlene has detention," she said.

Harry went around the table and sat next to her. "Right, but Malfoy doesn't."

"Maybe he does," Hermione suggested. "Snape is head of Slytherin. Malfoy may have done something wrong outside of class."

"No way," Harry said. "Malfoy has too much power with Voldemort. Snape can't punish him now. Not that he would anyway...when has Snape ever punished a Slytherin, no matter how much they deserve it..."

"That's true, but, Harry, we can't make assumptions," Hermione stated.

Harry wanted to punch the wall. "Arlene was posting guard for Malfoy outside the Room of Requirement! How much proof do you need!"

"Shhh!" Hermione hissed, glancing around nervously, expecting the librarian to appear with a stern warning. "You may be right," she conceded. "But those girls, Arlene and Melody, are from families with no connection to You-Know-Who. Why would they help Malfoy?"

"I don't know," Harry said. "Money, maybe. The Malfoys have a lot of it, and I overheard those girls talking in Hogsmeade about how they didn't have enough spending money."

"Helping You-Know-Who for a few galleons...that's ridiculous," Hermione scoffed.

Harry snatched the map off the table and turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" Hermione whispered anxiously.

"To find out what they're up to," Harry snapped.

"Wait!" Hermione exclaimed. She immediately clamped her hand over her mouth. She got up and ran over to Harry. "Where is Melody on the map?" she asked softly, ushering him to a different library table. They didn't have to worry about eavesdropping--there were no other students in the library on Saturday afternoon.

Harry flipped through the layers of the map and shook his head. "Nowhere."

Hermione nodded. "It occurred to me when that monkey stole your map that those girls were up to something. I thought perhaps Malfoy asked them to take your map so you'd be unable to track his whereabouts--"

"But they failed to steal it, thanks to you," Harry remarked.

The corners of Hermione's mouth curled upward with satisfaction. "But, remember, Melody touched your map," she continued. "She may have used a charm of some sort to erase herself from it."

"Or she's in the Room of Requirement," Harry said. "Those girls aren't just guarding the hall for Malfoy--they're actively helping him."

Hermione volunteered to wait outside the Room of Requirement, while Harry rushed back to the Gryffindor tower to retrieve his Invisibility Cloak.

"Hey, Harry, don't you need help with that...thing...? Right now?" Ron begged, pulling his head away from Lavender's encircling arms, as Harry ran past them toward the portrait hole.

"Not now," Harry said breathlessly.

When he reached the staircase to the dungeon, he slipped on the cloak and quietly approached Snape's office door. He prayed that Snape wouldn't notice the thin line of Extendable Ear under the door.

"Really?" Arlene was saying.

"Yes," Snape said. "I'm sure you have important things to do."

The door opened. Harry automatically jumped back, letting the Extendable Ear drop to the floor. They would see it, they'd find him. His heart pounded. He began backing away, resisting the impulse to run. Slipping away quietly was his only chance of escape.

Arlene emerged from Snape's office with a happy grin on her face and shut the door behind her. She jogged down the corridor, never once looking at the Extendable Ear.

Harry's heart hammered. Shakily, he picked up the Extendable Ear and listened again.

"Just as I predicted," Snape said coldly, "your work is sloppy and amateur."

"I'm almost finished!" Malfoy exclaimed. He sounded angry. "Stop trying to interfere! And don't you dare ever threaten me again!"

"I'm merely trying to help," Snape bristled. "By continuing to break curfew, you will attract attention. I, on the other hand, can go where I please, when I please. If you'd just--"

"No!" Malfoy shouted. "I will succeed, and I'll get the glory I deserve."

Harry heard a bang, like a fist slamming against the wall or a desk. "You know nothing!" Snape said venomously. "The Dark Lord expects you to fail. I have promised to complete the task. It is I who will bask in glory. Unless you allow me to help you," Snape said in a voice like razors. "I can keep prying eyes away from your work. Who else knows what you're doing, I wonder..."

"No one else," Draco said firmly.

"Don't be so sure," Snape warned.

"I've had enough of this," Malfoy stated, and Harry heard footsteps approach the door. "Don't ever summon me here again or you'll be sorry..."

Harry scooped the Extendable Ear under his cloak and ducked behind a basilisk statue.

To Hermione, it looked like the seventh floor corridor was deserted; however, Melody could be inside the Room of Requirement, and Hermione was determined to wait and find out. A few seconds later, she heard someone running up the stairs. Hermione tensed and moved the opposite direction, beyond the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Arlene approached with a feline spring in her step, walked past the blank wall, turned, and paced back the other way. She was preparing to enter the Room of Requirement.

Hermione made a quick decision and stepped out of the shadows. "Arlene," she called out.

Arlene dropped her foot casually and pivoted. "Oh, hi, Hermione," she said.

"What are you doing?" Hermione demanded.

"Nothing much. Stretching my legs after detention," Arlene said, smiling.

Hermione crossed her arms. "I know where you're going," she said. "Tell me, what do you use the room for?"

"That's my business," Arlene said. Her dark eyes became opaque and unreadable.

"No, it's my business as a Prefect," Hermione reminded her. "That room is off limit to students."

Arlene laughed. "I'm not in the room, Hermione."

"But Melody is," Hermione said.

"No, I don't think so," Arlene said, flipping a shiny lock of hair behind her shoulder.

Hermione shifted forward onto her toes, then leaned back as though planting herself more firmly against the stone floor. "Fine. I'll just wait here until she comes out."

"You can wait here all weekend if you want," Arlene said. "She's not in there." She bent over and touched her palms to the floor, stretching, then resumed a vertical position. "Look, Hermione, this is silly. I'm not some first-year student to be lectured by a Prefect. We're classmates. Give me a break."

"Tell me what you're doing in the room," Hermione insisted.

"I'd rather not," Arlene said, balancing on one leg and bending forward in a sort of yoga posture.

Hermione crossed her arms. "I don't understand how you can knowingly participate in a scheme to cause pain and suffering. Are you doing it for money?"

"There's nothing wrong with making money on the side," Arlene argued.

"You'd better tell me exactly what--" Hermione said with clenched fists.

They both heard swishing robes at the end of the hallway. Snape rounded the corner.

"Leave," he commanded. "The seventh floor corridor is closed."

"But, sir--" Hermione began.

"Now, Miss Granger," Snape said icily. "You have five seconds to remove yourself from my line of sight."

At that moment, Melody stepped out of the wall. When she saw Snape, her tall, gangly body hunched over, as though it wanted to collapse upon itself and disappear. She curled her hand around a scrap of parchment.

Snape eyed the parchment and reached for it with his long fingers. "What's this?" he said. He took the paper and glanced at it for a few seconds, then handed it back to Melody. "I see," he muttered. "Very illuminating."

Melody was blushing furiously and Arlene had paled.

"Five, four, three..." Snape counted.

Arlene and Hermione ran for the stairs, followed closely by Melody.

They knocked into Harry, who was coming up the staircase, and all four of them grabbed at banisters to regain their balance. "What happened?" Harry asked.

"Snape showed up, he ordered us to leave," Hermione replied.

"Hello, Harry," Arlene said, nudging Melody.

"Er, hi," Harry said.

"Did you bring the pickled herring?" Melody inquired, staring directly at Harry with her friendly, sky-blue eyes.

"Pickled herring?" Harry asked in confusion.

Hermione stamped her foot. "What is wrong with you two?" she demanded, thoroughly annoyed. "Let me see that parchment!"

"No way," Melody said, smiling. She certainly didn't seem evil at the moment, with her big white teeth and sincere blue eyes. "It was nice talking to you guys. See you later."

Melody and Arlene ran down the stairs.

"It's so frustrating," Hermione sighed, slumping against the banister. "I saw Melody come out of the room just now and I realized that, even if we catch Malfoy outside the Room of Requirement, we won't know what he's doing in there. Unless we know exactly what room he imagines in his mind...the way we all imagined the D.A. meeting room...we won't be able to get in. Possibly we'll catch him carrying something in or out, but--"

"What's Snape doing up there?" Harry interrupted.

"I don't know. He was just standing in the hall when I left," Hermione replied.

Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak out of his pocket. "I have to watch him," he said. At least he finally had something to do.

A terrible fact dawned on him.

"Quidditch practice," he groaned. "I can't miss it..."

Hermione held out her hand. "Give me the cloak," she said.

"You'll--?"

"It's not appropriate behavior for a Prefect, but I'll do it," Hermione said.

Harry squeezed her arm. "Thanks a million, Hermione. You're the best."

Quidditch practice was a disaster. Ron allowed six points without making any attempt to stop the Quaffle--he just floated on his broomstick, staring into the dark clouds. Nothing snapped him out of his inner gloom, not even the Slytherins' hoots and jeers drifting up from below.

"I should resign," Ron apologized on the way back to the castle. Their shoes squished through mud. Dull, splattering raindrops seemed to echo their mood.

"Never mind," Harry said. "You'll play well when it counts. Stop thinking about...other stuff."

"Easy for you to say," Ron muttered. "You don't have a girlfriend."

I would, if Ginny wasn't your sister, Harry thought. The thought of Ginny made Harry's chest constrict with an intoxicating combination of longing, joy, and panic. That was another situation he couldn't ignore much longer. He knew all the sixth-year students felt the pressure of classes and dating, but they weren't all Quidditch captains, and none of them was burdened with being the Chosen One. They didn't spend hours examining Voldemort's past in preparation for a fight to the death. I am going to kill Voldemort or he is going to kill me...He wondered how much it would hurt if Voldemort killed him.

"I'll play better," Ron promised, seeing the deep furrow in Harry's brow.

"It's not that--" Harry began.

In the courtyard stood Dumbledore, protected by a charm against the rain so that the heavy drops bounced off an invisible barrier. Harry almost cried. Dumbledore carried a weight of responsibility--more so than Harry--and he was back, and he was laughing with some second-year Ravenclaw students about the antics of tiny yellow birds in a tree. Suddenly, Harry's problems seemed to float away. Dumbledore could protect the school, he wouldn't let Malfoy complete his plan.

"Sir," Harry said as they approached Dumbledore, "welcome back."

"Oh, hello, Harry," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes shining.

"Sir, I have to speak with you," Harry said.

"Of course. I'm all ears," Dumbledore said.

The twittering yellow birds had flown to the next tree, further away. The second-years skipped after them, leaving Harry, Ron, and Dumbledore in relative privacy.

"Well, it's about Arlene Pepperton and Melody Cloud," Harry said. "They're sixth-year Hufflepuff students..."

"Ah, yes, curious young ladies," Dumbledore remarked with an air of puzzlement. "They have a thieving monkey, do they not? Formerly owned by a pirate."

"Those are the ones," Ron said.

"I think they might be working with Malfoy," Harry told him. "All three of them have been lurking around the seventh floor corridor lately. The girls' monkey tried to steal the Marauder's...um, a parchment that I have. And Malfoy was in Snape's office-"

"Professor Snape," Dumbledore corrected.

"...in Professor Snape's office," Harry continued. "And Arlene was there too, and now Snape...Professor Snape...has gone to the seventh floor corridor. And, er, I just thought you might want to keep an eye on those two girls," he concluded lamely. It all sounded so stupid now.

"They never did explain how Quidditch would work without the four houses," Ron commented.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted, running toward them. "Welcome back, sir," she said to Dumbledore as she reached the group.

"Thank you. Delighted to be back at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said. "Well, Harry, we can continue this discussion later, in my office. Now I really must go and find some lunch and perhaps a refreshing glass of pumpkin juice. Or possibly brandy." He waved at them in parting and entered the castle.

"What happened with Snape?" Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged, dejected. "Nothing to report. He paced in front of the wall for a few minutes, then returned to his office. How was Quidditch practice?"

Ron turned bright red and suddenly became very interested in his sneakers.

"Fine," Harry lied.

The odd sensation Harry experienced on Monday turned out to be a form of nostalgia. He, Ron, and Hermione were sitting together in Defense Against the Dark Arts, actually all speaking to one another, united in a common purpose. Granted, the common purpose was to nonverbally stun each other, but they did it together.

All weekend, Harry had been forced to choose between Ron and Lavender, or Hermione. Most of the time he just sat alone and memorized the snaky handwritten spells of the Half-Blood Prince.

Snape wandered down the first row, where he exchanged a malevolent glare with Draco before continuing to Melody and Arlene's desk.

"Try harder, Miss Cloud..." Snape growled. "Pretend your life is at stake."

Melody scrunched up her face and waved her wand at Arlene. Nothing happened.

Snape's thin, pale hand wandered to the stack of books on their desk. Harry watched him carefully, keen to observe his interaction with the girls. Snape's long fingers gripped a purple book and removed it from the pile. The book's cover was plum-colored velvet, with no lettering or markings of any kind.

"I take it this is the book," he muttered. "I'm sure you won't mind if I borrow it."

"You can't!" Melody protested.

"I can, and I shall," Snape retorted. "You were unwise to bring it to class."

He retreated to his desk, flipped open the book, and read through a few pages, bearing an intense scowl on his face the whole time. Then something unbelievable happened--Snape smiled. It was an unnatural contortion of the man's face, which caused Harry to feel prickles of horror, like when he'd watched the baby-headed Death Eater stumble around the Department of Mysteries.

Aghast, he turned to Hermione and Ron, who were both staring in shock at the same sight.

"He must know," Harry whispered. "He knows the plan!"

Malfoy seemed oblivious to the whole situation as he triumphantly gloated over having stunned Crabbe and Goyle.

After closing the book and placing it on the edge of his desk, Snape crossed to the second row, which, unfortunately, began with Harry's table.

"Let's see what you've got, Potter," Snape challenged. The smile twitched at his lips for an instant, but he managed to control his glee and transform his expression into one of profound malice as he waited for Harry to stun somebody.

Harry squirmed in the leather armchair in front of the fire while he took a break from copying the Half-Blood Prince's notes into a Potions essay on the topic Positive Uses of Hemlock. Apparently Ron had quarreled with Lavender again, so he sat with them in the Common Room, working on his essay entitled Grated Powders vs. Pulverized Powders. Ron's head often lolled forward onto his parchment as he dozed off in the midst of writing, and the word 'coagulate' was now clearly imprinted with ink onto his cheek. Hermione sat on the floor, leaning over the ornate coffee table as she finished yet another essay with a flourish and set it on a tidy stack of parchments.

"We have to steal that book from Snape," Harry announced.

"Blimey, let's do it!" Ron said, slamming his library book shut and hurling it out of the way with more enthusiasm than necessary.

Hermione made a clicking noise with her tongue. "You can't steal the book," she said.

"But it could contain Malfoy's plan!" Harry argued.

"Ron can't steal it," Hermione amended. "He's a Prefect. A Prefect cannot break into a teacher's office and steal. It would be a bad example and it's against the rules."

"Stopping Malfoy is more important than a little rule like that," Harry said. "Snape's evil, anyhow."

Hermione set down her quill and moved to the sofa, where she crossed her arms and put on her sternest expression. "Haven't you learned anything over the years?" she asked. "By acting alone on your hunches, breaking rules, trying to be a hero, you've fallen into You-Know-Who's traps."

"Sneaking into Snape's office isn't the same," Harry protested. "That's not a trap. What, do you think Voldemort is waiting there behind the door to jump out at me?"

Ron snorted, but he looked worried at the same time.

"Of course not," Hermione said. "All I'm saying is that if you learn to use discretion about the little things, you'll have the proper perspective when it comes to larger issues. You have to be careful, Harry."

"What about..." Harry stammered, "what about when the three of us broke the rules to protect the Philosopher's Stone. You think that was reckless?"

"It was a trap," Hermione reminded him. "Voldemort used you to get the Philosopher's Stone for him."

Harry blazed with anger. "Oh yeah, what about the Chamber of Secrets?" he demanded. "We opened it, Ron and I, and saved Ginny's life and defeated Voldemort--one of them, anyway!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Again, a trap," she said. "Tom Riddle lured you there to kill you with the basilisk. And don't forget last year when he tricked you with the vision at the Department of Mysteries so that you'd obtain the prophecy for him. You tried to be a hero, and--" She trailed off uncomfortably.

"And Sirius died," Harry finished for her, hanging his head. "It was my fault."

"No, Harry, I didn't mean that," Hermione said quickly.

"Dumbledore wasn't around!" Harry shouted, attracting stares from the younger students nearby. "What was I supposed to do?!"

"He's here now," Hermione said in a gentle tone. "Dumbledore is here. And remember, Harry, Professor Snape is a member of the Order. Dumbledore trusts him."

"I don't," Harry said through clenched teeth. "And Dumbledore has been wrong before, about Sirius, about the Heir of Slytherin...Anyhow, it's Malfoy I'm concerned about." He stood, and determination flashed in his eyes. "I'm going to talk to Dumbledore!"

"That's fine," Hermione said.

"Good luck, mate," Ron said, forcing a smile. "You might want to figure out a better way to explain it...after all, it sounded a bit, uh, lame, didn't it, when you explained it to him before..."

"That was before we found out about the book," Harry stated. "You know, I bet Snape hasn't even mentioned the book or Malfoy or the Room of Requirement to Dumbledore, and that's a sure sign of guilt." He glanced at his watch. "Twenty minutes to curfew," he muttered. "I'll have to hurry."

With that, Harry left through the portrait hole.

Ron was staring at Hermione. He lifted a finger and wagged it at her, with an expression of enlightenment. "McGonagall," he said. "You're going to become Professor McGonagall someday."

Hermione shook her hair, which puffed out like a sea sponge, and sat down on the floor by the coffee table. "I would feel very fortunate to be a professor here someday," she replied, picking up her quill.

Harry stood in front of the door to Dumbledore's office and tried to remember the password. At the last appointment, it had been Strawberry Swirlies, but Dumbledore may have changed it since he got back.

"Strawberry Swirlies," Harry ventured.

The door swung open. Harry stood on the steps as they spiraled up into Dumbledore's office. At the inner doors, he hesitated before knocking. It sounded like someone was already in there, talking to Dumbledore. Harry couldn't make out any of the words but, knowing he hadn't much time until curfew, decided to knock.

"Come in, Harry," Dumbledore called out. The latch clicked open.

As usual, the office whirred with the sound of various delicate silver instruments. Fawkes sat on his perch and sang a melodic note in greeting. The first thing Harry noticed, however, was Professor Snape, holding the plum-colored book, standing next to Dumbledore at the desk.

Harry's mind reeled. Snape was here with the book. Did this mean he was on their side and was alerting Dumbledore? It didn't seem possible. Snape was a Death Eater who wanted to help Malfoy.

"I think you'd better fetch them immediately," Dumbledore was saying to Snape. "I'll keep the book."

Snape handed the velvet book to Dumbledore, swiveled elegantly, adjusted his black cape, and, on the way out, glared at Harry through slitted eyes.

"I don't believe we have an appointment tonight," Dumbledore said, lowering his head to gaze over his eyeglasses at Harry.

"No, sir, we don't," Harry replied. He wasn't sure what to say. Bursting in and revealing the plot was no longer an option--Snape had beaten him to it. "I just came to tell you about that book," he said, pointing at the purple book on Dumbledore's desk. "I told you earlier that Melody and Arlene had been using the Room of Requirement and that--"

Dumbledore waved his hand. "Yes, yes, Professor Snape told me everything."

Harry stepped closer to the desk. "So, sir, what is Malfoy doing up there? What's his plan?"

A puzzled look appeared on Dumbledore's face, and his bushy eyebrows knitted together. "I don't believe Mr. Malfoy is involved."

Now Harry felt as though he'd lost his footing. "Yes, sir, Malfoy is definitely involved. He's the one fixing the object for Lord Voldemort. He's a Death Eater."

Dumbledore gestured toward Harry with one finger, beckoning him toward the desk. He handed the purple book to Harry. "I think you're entitled to see this."

With trembling fingers, Harry opened the book. The first pages were blank. He flipped the page over. There, in the middle of the right-hand page, was a photograph of Dumbledore pasted into the book. 'I've lost my bowl of pudding,' the photo-Dumbledore said, and turned his head to glance right and left, then sighed. The image froze, and replayed after five seconds.

Unusual, to be sure, but hardly a sinister plot. Harry flipped the page.

'Get that monkey out of my classroom!' photo-Snape snarled.

Again, Harry flipped the page.

'I never met a flobberworm that didn't smell better'n me,' a looming photo-Hagrid said.

Totally confused, Harry turned the page.

'Pickled herring?' his own face said with a startled expression.

The next page had a photograph of a sneering Draco Malfoy. 'Pink is a mixture of red and white, you dolt!' he shouted.

Harry lowered the book and raised his eyes to meet Dumbledore's. "Sir, what is this? I don't understand."

At that moment, Snape, a sheepish-looking Melody, and grim-faced Arlene entered the office. The girls saw Harry with the book and seemed confused to find him here in Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore reached for the book, which Harry handed to him. "I believe they can explain," Dumbledore said. "Miss Pepperton and Miss Cloud, you do realize that this book has caused trouble throughout the school."

"Yes, sir," Melody said softly.

"Not much trouble," Arlene stressed.

"A misbehaving monkey in my classroom!" Snape reminded them.

Immediately, the girls broke out in hysterical laughter. They tried to stop, but their faces became very red and their eyes watered uncontrollably.

"Ladies, I feel that this project needs to end right now," Dumbledore said gently. "You've had your fun, you have a collection to enjoy and perhaps show your children someday, but I suggest you keep it to yourselves until then."

"This project is not going to end," Snape said. He whirled on the two girls. "The list! Give it to me!"

Melody reluctantly reached into her pocket and handed him the scrap of parchment, which Snape then handed to Dumbledore. Harry moved around the desk to view it over Dumbledore's shoulder. On the paper was a list of about thirty names, including Filch, McGonagall, and Nearly Headless Nick, along with various quotes. Next to Harry's own name he saw 'The monkey stole my (blank),' which was crossed out and replaced with 'Pickled herring.'

Dumbledore hummed to himself as he perused the list, then said, "It appears you abandoned the monkey theme. I wondered about that incident in the observatory."

Next to Dumbledore's name on the list, Harry saw 'Telescopes aren't meant for monkeys,' which had been crossed out and replaced with 'I lost my pudding/Where's my pudding.'

Arlene distractedly kicked her foot against the floor. "We decided after awhile that it was funnier if people said different things," she remarked.

Events finally clicked in Harry's mind. "You had the monkey steal my map so you could get that quote," he guessed.

"Right," Melody said, nodding. "We didn't know what he'd take from your pocket, but he does tend to steal, so we knew he'd get something."

"Eduardo used to belong to a pirate, you know," Arlene added. "I wouldn't be surprised if they trained him to steal treasure maps. Anyhow, your monkey quote just wasn't all that funny."

"The only monkey comment that was funny was--" Melody said, and glanced at Snape. Her face flushed and she bit her lip furiously.

Harry scratched his head. "You said you were broke at Hogsmeade," he said. "And you told Hermione that you wanted to make money on the side..."

Arlene arched a perfect eyebrow at him. "We were broke because we spent all our money on Transference Paper," she told him. "We couldn't very well use a camera because people would notice."

"What's Transference Paper?" Harry inquired.

"It's photo paper that telepathically records what you see and hear for a few seconds," Melody explained.

"That's why you kept staring at me," Harry muttered in understanding. "But the money...you mean Malfoy wasn't paying you to help him?"

Melody and Arlene glanced at each other, baffled. "Malfoy?" they said in unison.

"You were in the room on the seventh floor corridor," Harry prodded.

"For privacy," Arlene said. "A lot of people know about that room now, thanks to your DA group. We needed a room to work on this scrapbook. If anyone saw what we were doing, and word got out...well, we'd hardly be able to get quotes anymore, would we?"

"We planned to sell the pictures as novelty keepsakes," Melody added.

Snape approached Harry. "Curfew in three minutes, Potter," he warned. Then, under his breath, he hissed, "And I suggest you forget about Mr. Malfoy's project. Leave that to me. Understood?"

Harry left the office without replying. On his way back to Gryffindor Tower, he admitted to himself that he'd made assumptions that turned out to be wrong. But Malfoy was still brewing an evil plan on the seventh floor, Snape was still untrustworthy, and Harry Potter vowed to remain vigilant until he foiled Voldemort's plan yet again. He found himself chuckling. It really was funny to hear Snape say the word 'monkey.'