Furious Angels

11: The Uncontrollable Flow of Information

The rumors flying around the late Mr. Filch and his cat spread across the school like a wildfire. Within hours, everyone in the school had known of the man's death. Within days, everyone in the school had heard at least six different stories involving Filch's death, not to mention the mutilation of Mrs. Norris. The Weasley twins had naturally set themselves up as bookmakers, taking wagers on which of the multitudinous stories were true. So far, the favorite was that the crazed Squib had killed his own pet then drowned himself in a toilet. The only element to the man's death the staff had succeeded in keeping secret was the graffiti. No one but the professors knew of the message, and Dumbledore was going to great lengths to keep it that way. He even managed to keep knowledge of the graffiti away from the Aurors... he knew that if word got out that Filch's death was somehow connected to the legendary Chamber of Secrets, Hagrid's life wouldn't be worth a stale biscuit.

The Headmaster felt some small amount of guilt at interfering with an official investigation, but he knew with a certainty that Hagrid had nothing to do with poor Filch's demise, no more than he had something to do with the girl, Myrtle Malone. And isn't that an interesting coincidence, Dumbledore had thought to himself shortly after the discovery of the body. Filch dead in the same place and in a similar manner to that poor girl. Unfortunately, his examination of the girls' bathroom revealed nothing that had not been discovered back in 1945.

After much introspection, Dumbledore had decided to encourage life at the school to resume its normal rhythms. It would not do, after all, for the students to become panicked or overwrought based on this one tragedy.

That was a concern for another day, though. As requested, Hermione Granger had shown Dumbledore the special room... and to Dumbledore's surprise, it turned out to be a room that he, the Headmaster of Hogwarts himself, had no knowledge of. Of course, he had vague memories of entering this room once, but it had been a jakes at the time, not a warehouse for lost things. It was a most curious quandary. The Headmaster had immediately set the castle's house elves to cataloging the things found in the room; he wasn't sure what he would do with most of it, though he'd already decided that, as the discoverers of the Room of Lost Things, he'd let the Potter boy and his friends have whatever harmless toys or gimcracks they requested. (He'd already received inquiries from Miss Lovegood regarding the various gowns they had been playing with.) Anything truly dangerous, or even potentially so, would be stored away.

And "truly dangerous" definitely applied to the item he was now studying on his desk. It seemed to be either a perfect replica of Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem, or else was the real thing. That, in itself, wasn't the dangerous part; somehow, it had been enchanted with dark and terrible magic. From what his spells and studying and research revealed, the Headmaster was convinced that what he was looking at was a Horcrux. Even worse, he was convinced that it was a Horcrux created by Tom Riddle, the self-styled "Lord Voldemort".

If he was correct, Dumbledore reasoned, and the diadem had been converted into a Horcrux belonging to the Dark Lord, then all of his fears regarding Lord Voldemort not truly being dead were suddenly realized. It was a chilling thought.

XxxxxxX

While the teachers and staff of Hogwarts worried how the murder of Argus Filch would impact the children, those self-same children were proving an axiom that had not yet been voiced in greater society: children are far more resilient than any adult gives credit.

News of the graffiti was successfully kept from the Aurors, but thanks to the Weasley twins and their unstoppable need to go where they weren't supposed to, the students had found out about it within the next two days. Within a week it was the talk of the school, to the point that it was disrupting classes. To the surprise of everyone in Gryffindor House, it was Hermione Granger who stood up in the middle of History of Magic and asked Professor Binns about the Chamber of Secrets.

The ghost-professor had been less than cooperative, but had managed to give the students a rather vague idea of just what the Chamber was: a secret room, or set of rooms, created by Salazar Slytherin himself. No one had actually ever confirmed its existence, though rumors regarding the Chamber being opened always surfaced from time to time. It was just enough to put Hermione on the scent.

Three days after the now-legendary History of Magic class, Hermione came into the common room carrying a book almost as large as she was. She pushed herself onto the sofa between Luna and Harry (who were busy with a game of Gobstones), and said, "I think I found it!"

"Found what, exactly, Hermione?" Harry carefully reached around the expansive cover of the book for his Gobstones, but couldn't quite make it. Resigned to the interruption, he gave Luna a look, and sat back when the blonde girl nodded back.

"The Chamber of Secrets, of course! I was looking in the wrong place."

"You found the Chamber? You know where the Chamber is?" Harry asked.

Luna coughed gently before speaking. "Did you find the physical location of the Chamber itself, or did you simply find more information than has been supplied by Professor Binns?"

"Oh... I found some new information. It's all here, in this book!" She showed the gold-leaf writing on the binding. It read SECRETS OF THE FOUNDERS: A HIDDEN HISTORY. "According to this, each of the four founders of Hogwarts constructed a set of private chambers for their own use; these rooms were hidden from the rest of the castle and accessible only to the founders themselves and those friends or family members who knew the secret of how to enter them."

Hermione pointed to the spot on the page from which she was reading. "This says that when Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor each died, they left behind knowledge of how to open their secret chambers, and thus the chambers became common knowledge and are used to this day by the school. Ravenclaw's chamber, for example, is now the location of the school's library, while Hufflepuff's chamber is part of the seventh year 'Puff dorms. Now, because..."

"What about Gryffindor's chambers?" Harry interrupted her.

Hermione closed her mouth for a second. "Oh... we're sitting in them right now," she said with a shrug. "The students of Gryffindor House were once housed elsewhere."

"But Slytherin left the school before he died, didn't he?" Luna asked. "He couldn't have revealed where his chambers were hidden, or how to open them."

Hermione nodded. "Exactly what I was about to say."

"Okay, so now we know what the Chamber of Secrets is, how do we find it? And what about the monster that's supposed to be living in it?" Harry asked.

"Well," Luna began. Before she could say anything else, Ginny stumbled into the room. She had an odd look on her face, and she was breathing heavy.

"Ginny, are you okay?" Harry was worried.

"Yeah, sure... I just ran from the third floor corridor. I was looking for Professor Flitwick, and was checking some of the classrooms he uses to talk privately to some of the students, you know? Well... I didn't find Flitwick, but I did find Percy... he was in the office connected to the classroom, and the door was open! You would not believe what he was doing with that Ravenclaw prefect... what's her name... Clearwankle or something. Oh my God, it was disgusting! I almost threw up in the corridor. And the noises they made..."

She pulled Harry into a light hug and whispered, "If that's what a special naked hug looks like, forget it!" Harry just nodded. If special naked hugs were so bad that they almost made Ginny throw up, he certainly wanted nothing to do with them.

Hermione was blushing, furiously. "Oh my... should we tell someone?"

"I don't want to tell anyone I saw anything like that, ever," Ginny said, firmly.

"But he's a prefect! He shouldn't be... you know... doing that in school! Especially not where just anyone can walk in!"

Luna, however, was more forgiving. "Come now, Hermione... it's really not our business who Percy Weasley is having relations with. And being a tattle-tale is never a good thing. On the other hand, I'm sure that Ginny feels a need to scrub her brain clean of the images..."

"Look, let's change the subject. Let's talk about... what we were talking about... all right?" At everyone's nod, Harry continued. "What does 'Enemies of the Heir' mean anyway? Heir of what?"

"Heir of Slytherin, I would suspect," Luna said. "After all, if it's Slytherin's chamber, it makes sense that if someone was opening the chamber and letting the monster out to ravage the school and terrorize the student body, it would be Slytherin's heir."

The other three looked at Luna for a long while, a bit dumbfounded. Finally, Luna blinked and added, "It's just a theory."

"No, it's a good one, Luna. I think you're right... whoever is opening the Chamber of Secrets is at least claiming to be the Heir of Slytherin. You just said that so... quickly..." Hermione turned to Harry. "The way I see it, Harry, once everyone else in the school figures out what we just did... well..."

"Well what?" Harry asked.

"Harry, remember you're famous on a legendary level, right? I mean, you're not just Stubby Boardman famous or Ludo Bagman famous... you're... well... you're..." Ginny was visibly reaching for the right example.

"Harry Potter famous?" Luna suggested.

"Yeah, Harry Potter famous. Everyone knows about you, or thinks they do. Something like this, happening so close to you? It's inevitable that sooner or later people are going to start talking about you as if you were the Heir himself," Ginny finished.

"But that's ridiculous! It's stupid! It's ridiculously stupid!" Harry gasped. He glanced around the Common Room, suddenly aware of how many people, regardless of what they were doing, kept occasionally glancing his way.

"We know, Harry. It's ridiculous to even consider that you might be the Heir of Slytherin. But still, people will think that. Don't worry... we'll be there for you." Luna smiled at him and patted his hand.

He really didn't know how to respond to that.

"You know who I think is most likely to be the Heir of Slytherin?" Ginny asked.

"How many guesses do I get?" Hermione asked in return, grinning.

"Well, I'll give you three, but you're only going to need one."

"Malfoy?" Hermione's grin expanded at Ginny's nod.

Luna looked skeptical. "He does seem to have the right attitude and he's certainly well-practiced at 'creepy', but doesn't he strike you as being just a bit too obvious?" The others looked at her, curiously, and waved her to go on. "I mean... it's almost like some invisible writer has made him so slimy and evil that, anytime anything happens, our first suspicion will be toward Malfoy. He's too convenient, isn't he?"

They thought about that for a moment. "Yeah, he is a bit obvious. And I learned that lesson first year, with Professor Greasy-Git. We all thought he was trying to steal the stone, when it was Quirrell all the time. Greasy-Git's certified evil, but he's still trying to make up for betraying my mother..."

"What was that about your mother?" Hermione asked. Her eyes wide and fearful.

"What?" Harry looked back at Hermione in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Professor Snape betrayed your mother?" Hermione asked.

Harry was suddenly gloomy. "Yeah, he did. That's why I hate him, even if he's been trying to make up for it ever since."

"Does Professor Dumbledore know this?" Hermione's eyes were wide.

"Yeah, he does. He keeps insisting Snape's on our side now, but me... I think he's just on his side." Harry was silent for a moment. "But he really, truly loved my mother. And for that... because of that... I can forgive him a little, for the rest of things. I don't like him, and I don't trust him not to hurt me. But I do trust him not to sell me out to Voldemort." Harry smiled at the fact that none of the girls jumped at the mention of the name.

They were all quiet for a long while. Then Luna spoke again. "So we'll keep an eye on Malfoy, but we won't let doing so blind us to other possibilities."

Everyone nodded. "I'll tell Neville and Ron when I see them." Harry said.

Luna looked around the Common Room before asking, "Where are they, anyway?"

"Ron has a detention with McGonagall. I'm not sure where Neville is," Ginny said.

"Neville's with Professor Sprout," Hermione answered without thinking. She then blushed under their collective gaze.

XxxxxxX

While he had basically agreed with suggestions made by Harry Potter regarding reserve players, Oliver Wood knew that if he had restricted the try-out to just those people Harry suggested, or whom Harry considered friends, the questions that arose would have been embarrassed. He carefully avoided the situation by declaring an open try-out for reserve spots. Any Gryffindor who wished to could try. So on the Saturday morning, two weeks after the discovery of Mr. Filch and Mrs. Norris, Wood had rounded up his team-mates and enlisted their help in running trials.

Eleven students of various years came to try-out. Some, Wood knew, were going to prove hopeless from the jump. Others might just have a chance. It would be an interesting day regardless of how things worked out.

He glanced for a moment to the stands. He hadn't expected so many spectators. Friends of the team, sure. Even the significant others, if there were any, of the prospects. But it looked as if most of Gryffindor House were watching, not to mention a goodly number from the 'claws and the 'puffs. He was, however, gratified that there was the barest handful of students sitting in the usual Slytherin sections.

With his team lined up behind him, Oliver approached the brave souls who dared to think they might be good enough to play for their House team. "All right... we're going to start with the Reserve Keeper try-outs. Who's here for Keeper?" Three hands rose. Wood recognized Ron Weasley, the twins' younger brother, immediately. It took him a moment to remember the names of the other two: McLaggen, a third year, and Longbottom, another of Potter's friends.

"Good to have you. Now, what we'll do is have you man the goals one at a time. Now, for the first round we're going to have the Chasers... that's Katie, Angelina, and Alicia there... make a go at scoring on you. We'll then do a round with the chasers doing two-on-one combinations, and finally we'll be hitting anyone not already eliminated with full-raft combinations where all three Chasers will be working together to score against you. Clear? Okay... let's have... McLaggen first, then Weasley, then Longbottom."

XxxxxxX

"Okay, you three aren't bad on a broom, and you'll no doubt get better with practice." Angelina Johnson held the slate close to her chest as she spoke. After Wood, she was the most senior of the first-string players, and the most likely to replace him as Captain when he graduated after the next year. Since Wood had taken up his Keeper position already, it was up to her to examine the prospective Chasers. "Being keen on a broom is key to being a great Chaser, but you also need fantastic timing, a good sense of the game around you, and the nerve to put yourself out there."

All four prospective Chasers nodded, hanging on her every word. She glanced up at her fellow Chasers who, like Wood, were on their brooms and in the air already. "You two ready?" she called.

Spinnet just nodded, while Bell called back a quick "Ready, Angie... send them on up."

Johnson winced at the nickname... she hated being called Angie, but couldn't break Alicia from it. "All right, you four... what we want you to do is do your best to score on Oliver there." She pointed to the lines painted in the grass of the pitch. "Remember to be aware of the Shooter's line. You won't be passing, so you don't have to worry about the Passer's Line, but if you cross the Shooter's Line without taking your go at the goals, I'll mark it against you."

She was quiet for a moment as the entire team, first-stringers and prospects alike, watched Harry Potter. The team's Seeker sped across the pitch at two hundred feet. When he reached the rough center of the field, he pulled into a tight shoulder-roll and dove straight to the ground. The boy looked for the entire world like he was simply going to plow directly into the turf, but at a height of around eight feet pulled out abruptly. Harry bent into a corkscrew roll as he accelerated, burning across the remainder of the pitch in seconds. Everyone who was watching abruptly got goose-bumps.

"Yes. Well... Seeker try-outs will be held right after we get done with you lot..." Angelina said, tightly. The four prospects snapped their attention back to her. "Now... let's see Dean up first, followed by Ginny, then Demelza, and finally Seamus. Okay? Good. Mount your brooms..."

XxxxxxX

With the try-outs over the team gathered together in the highest levels of the Gryffindor stands. The prospective reserve players were still on the field, released for the moment to entertain themselves as they liked while Wood discussed their fates with his team. Naturally enough, the prospects had roughly divided into teams for a five-on-five one-goal game, with McLaggen playing Keeper for both teams.

They'd just come to their first round picks... Ginny Potter would be reserve Chaser and Seeker, and surprisingly Colin Creevey would be reserve beater; both had shown exemplary talent in those positions, enough so that the team had been pleasantly surprised... and were beginning to discuss the other positions when a noise from the field caught their attention.

"Oh no... what are they doing here?" Katie Bell asked.

As a group they rushed to the field, letting Oliver take the lead as Captain of the team. The Slytherin Quidditch team was already on the field, exchanging words with the gathered prospects. "Alicia, Katie, round up the prospects and put the brooms away. We'll continue this somewhere else. Flint!" Oliver called. "What's all this? I booked this field weeks ago so I could run trials for my..."

Marcus Flint smiled at his rival. It was the greasy, crooked smile of a crocodile approaching his prey. "Well you'll just have to reschedule, Wood. I have a note." The Slytherin captain handed the other boy a rolled-up piece of parchment.

Oliver read for a moment before speaking. "'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch pitch, owing to the need to train their new Seeker.' You have a new Seeker?" In response, and with almost vicious glee, the Slytherin team split, revealing the boy they'd been hiding.

"Malfoy?" Harry Potter seemed stunned.

"That's right, scar-head!" The blond boy smirked back at Harry's incredulous gaze. "And that's not all that's new." With a casual wave, Malfoy gestured toward the brooms each of the Slytherin were carrying.

"Nimbus 2001s," Wood said, nodding. "Good brooms."

"The latest model... a gift from Draco's father... much better than the old Comets, I'd say. And as for the Cleansweeps..." Marcus Flint's grin became even more feral as he glanced toward the Weasley twins. "Well..."

Flint's impending insult stopped unvoiced as Katie Bell tapped Wood on the shoulder. "Oliver, I need the keys to the broom shed." She was accompanied by the eleven prospects, plus Luna Lovegood and Hermione Granger.

"What... what is that?" Marcus Flint gasped. He was staring at the broom Bell casually held, as if she had a poisonous snake in her arms and was thrusting it at him. "When did she get that?"

Wood looked to Bell and realized that Flint was asking about the broom. With a cruel, wry grin, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain turned back to Flint. "Oh that? Yeah... an anonymous benefactor donated an entire raft of Nimbus 2001s to the Gryffindor team... Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff got them as well."

Hermione stepped forward and smirked at Malfoy. "At least no one on any of the other teams had to buy their way in."

Draco's mouth fell open in shock, as if she had slapped him. "How dare you speak to your betters like that, you filthy little Mudblood!"

There was a shocked silence from nearly everyone around. The Gryffindors who knew the word were scandalized, while the Slytherins were mostly shocked that Draco had the bad manners to say it in public. After several second of quiet, there was a nervous chuckle.

All eyes stared at Ron Weasley for a moment before turning back to Malfoy. Ron didn't even look abashed at his outburst. For her part, Hermione Granger merely looked confused. "What does...?" she started to ask, but Angelina Johnson waved her to silence with a mouthed Not now!

Wood was fuming. "Shut your foul mouth, Malfoy, or..."

"Or what?" The Slytherin boy stepped into Wood's space, daring the older boy to do something. "You don't dare touch me... my father would ruin your entire Family if you so much as raise a finger..."

"So be it!" With no warning at all, Neville Longbottom stepped forward and slapped Draco Malfoy across the face with a Quidditch glove. "You and your puisne Family don't impress me, Malfoy... What are you again? Twelfth rank? You're not fit to shine my family's shoes!" The boy raised his voice so everyone around him could hear. "I am Neville Francis Longbottom, head of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Longbottom! I declare Hermione Granger under my protection, and if she is willing, her family is Sept to the Family Longbottom!" Neville turned his eyes back to Draco. "Insult her again, you insignificant bug! I dare you!"

Behind him, Fred Weasley gave Hermione a gentle nudge. She glanced at him and he whispered, "Accept it... you have to accept it! Say something!"

"Oh... uh... On... uh... on behalf of my parents, I... uh... Hermione Jane Granger, accept... um..."

Fred leaned in, still whispering, "... accept the protection of the Longbottom Family... and agree to be Sept to them, for as long as my family thrives."

Hermione smiled at him, nodding her thanks. "I accept the protection of the Longbottom family, and on my parents' behalf agree to be Sept forever."

"Witnessed and sealed!" Ginny, Fred, George, and Angelina Johnson all said simultaneously.

Malfoy sneered and began to say something, only to be clouted across the back of his head by Marcus Flint. The older boy scowled at his new Seeker until Draco relented, then turned back to the crowd of Gryffindors. "Longbottom, on behalf of my Housemate... who should know when to keep his tongue behind his teeth... allow me to extend the deepest apologies of Slytherin House to your cousin." With that he bowed to Hermione, who was still looking confused. "Such public displays of rudeness are not fitting a member of Slytherin House, much less a member of one of the Great Families."

Neville nodded. "Thank you, Flint. I, and thus all of the Longbottoms, accept the apologies of Slytherin House on the behalf of its least member." With that, the young man turned, took Hermione Granger's hand in his own, and stalked off the field.

After an embarrassing silence, Oliver Wood turned back to Marcus Flint. "Well... we yield the pitch to you, then." With a growl he turned his gaze back onto Malfoy. "You and I will meet again, boy." Draco only sneered in response.

As they were walking back into the castle, Wood put a friendly arm around Harry Potter's shoulders. "Something I wanted to discuss. Do you think our mysterious benefactor could see his way clear to supplying some new brooms for our back-up players? I'd like whoever we end up picking to begin practicing with the rest of the team..."

Harry laughed. "I think our mysterious benefactor will see what he can do..."

XxxxxxX

That night, after a quick meeting of the Gryffindor Quidditch team in a disused classroom, another, more open meeting was called to announce the results of the Quidditch try-outs. Anyone who wanted could attend to see who had made it onto the team's reserve and who hadn't. The entire House, including Professor McGonagall, had decided to attend.

Wood stood before the entire House, explaining that the decision of who made the Reserve Team was based on the good of the team and not anything personal. He then announced Demelza Robins and Dean Thomas as Reserve Chasers, Ginny Potter as Reserve Seeker, Colin Creevey as Reserve Beater, and Ron Weasley as Reserve Keeper. It was this last announcement that finally sparked comment.

"Why him?" It was McLaggen, the third year who had also tried for the Keeper spot. "He missed all the three-on-ones, and all but two of the two-on-ones! I blocked all the two-on-ones and the first three three-on-ones. How's he a better Keeper than I am?"

Oliver Wood just looked at him. "Well, for one thing, he's got a better attitude. Weasley might not be perfect, but I can tell... he's willing to work on it and doesn't think he's Merlin's Gift to Quidditch." The unlike you was left unspoken.

The younger boy refused to be mollified. "That's bollocks! I know what you're really about! Anyone with a lick of wits can see it."

Wood sighed, deeply. "All right... why don't you tell everyone here what I am really about? This should be very interesting and I cannot wait to hear it."

"It's all about him!" McLaggen hooked a thumb at Harry. "You put his girlfriend on the team, along with a bunch of his friends."

Oliver glanced over at Professor McGonagall, who was watching the byplay intensely. The entire House was watching carefully, in fact. "I put Ginny on the team because she flew rings around everyone else on the pitch except Harry. She's perfect Seeker material, and I think she'd do well as Chaser as well. I put the others on the team because I see potential that we can work on before they have to jump into a game." Wood took a deep breath. "And I didn't put you on the team because you aren't a team player. You're arrogant, and you're bull-headed, and you refused to listen to me while you were trying out."

"I stopped..."

"Yes, I know how many goals you stopped. Doesn't matter. I was looking for more than just stopping goals," Wood revealed. "I'm looking for people who can mesh into the team; for reservists, I'm looking for people I can train. You're quick on a broom, but I can tell you aren't going to learn anything I want to teach you."

McLaggen wasn't appeased. He stomped towards the boys' stairs, only pausing long enough to scowl at Harry Potter. "I'm a better Keeper than your friend, and you know it. I should be on the team and you know it. I'm going to get you for this, somehow..." And with that, he headed up the stairs.

"Wow." Neville spoke into the silence in the room.

"I concur, Mister Longbottom." Professor McGonagall stood and straightened her robes. "My congratulations to the new reserve players. Mister Wood, well chosen, I think. If Mister McLaggen gives you any trouble, please refer him to me. I'm not sure I appreciate his attitude," she said as she was leaving. "No, I'm not sure at all."

In the wake of the professor's departure, the room began to empty. Harry moved to the large couch in front of the room's fireplace, and within moments Ginny had moved to snuggle with him. Hermione sat between Luna and Neville on the loveseat, while Ron took up the opposite end of the couch from Harry and Ginny.

"Well, today has been exciting," Hermione began. She looked at her friends expectantly, but for the most part they only nodded. "Er... could I ask someone a question?"

That caught everyone's attention. It was usually they who were asking Hermione something. "Sure, Hermione... what's up?" Neville smiled at her.

"That word that Malfoy used today... the one that caused everyone to tense up. 'Mudblood'. What does that mean?"

Ron shook his head and snickered. He moved his gaze to the carpeted floor to avoid the sharp looks he was being given by everyone but Hermione.

"What's funny, Ron?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing. It's not funny." But Ron couldn't help but snicker again. He finally shrugged. "I'm sorry... it's just... shock, I suppose." He looked up at Hermione and squirmed for a moment. "Sorry... it just... I can't help it."

Harry was still staring at Ron, but the glare had diminished. "Yeah, it happens. Hermione, imagine you're in church, and someone from outside runs in and shouts, 'KISS MY BUTT' into the air before running back out. Everyone would be appalled, but there's always one guy who'd start giggling because he can't believe what he heard. That's Ron right now."

"Ah." Hermione thought about it for a moment. "And... er... Malfoy would be the person who wanted the church to kiss his... er..."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, about."

"But worse," Neville added.

"Much worse," Ginny said. "It means 'dirty blood', and it's a really foul word used to insult people like you. You know... Muggleborn."

"It's sort of like... ahem..." Harry cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with what he was about to say. "Malfoy calling you a Mudblood is like someone calling Pavarti a paki, or Seamus a mick, or Dean a ni..."

"I get the picture, Harry!" Hermione interrupted. Harry blushed, obviously relieved that he hadn't actually had to complete the sentence.

"But much worse," Luna added.

"How is it worse?" Hermione asked. "Prejudice is prejudice, right?"

"It's worse because this prejudice is part of the Wizarding World, where racism isn't, anymore. Blood-prejudice still rules our society." Luna reported this fact with all the calmness she'd have used to report that the sun was up.

"What?"

Luna nodded. "You're absolutely correct, Hermione... we're going to have to do something about that. I'll help you." She grasped one of Hermione's hands gently and gave it a squeeze.

"Don't worry about Malfoy, Hermione," Ginny said. "He's a little dog with a big bark but not a lot of bite. The only time he ever really hurt anyone was when he ambushed Harry on the train that one time. Right Harry?"

But Harry was looking at her oddly, like he had no clue as to what she was referring.