The Gloriana Set

Hangover

Hermione was on a broomstick, flying higher than she ever had before, over the Black Lake. But she wasn't scared. The broom soared, and she wasn't controlling it, she was only a passenger, there was a solid warmth behind her, and she felt safe ...

"Hermione!" said a voice, low and urgent. "Hermione!"

"Whaa? ..." She opened her eyes. She was spread-eagled on her bed, lying on her stomach, still in her skirt and gold halter top.

Parvati Patil was shaking her. "Hermione!"

She sat up. "What time is it?"

"7 a.m. Hermione, you have to come downstairs now."

"Why? Is Madame Hooch angry? I know the common room's a mess ..."

"You have to see!" Parvati straightened. "And bring your wand."

Hermione's brain snapped to attention at that. Parvati's face was serious, and she was wearing her jogging shorts and sports bra. Her housemate must have gone downstairs for her morning jog (the Patils were fitness freaks) and seen something. Hermione slid out of her bed, picked up her wand and shoved her feet into fuzzy blue slippers. Ginny lay unmoving in her bed, still in her own party clothes. Lavender's bed was empty.

"OK," Hermione said. "Let's go."

They descended the staircase to the common room, flooded with morning sunlight that dazzled her bloodshot eyes and glinted off half-empty glasses and bottles.

"There," Parvati said, pointing to the wall to the right of the portrait hole.

Hermione nearly fell off the last step, her mouth open. On the wall, in letters two feet high were the dripping, rust-colored words: "DIE MUDBLOODS."

Hermione felt like she had been hexed, but was too shocked to feel anything. She almost dropped her wand, her hands trembled so badly.

"Who did this?" she breathed.

"Slytherins, of course," Parvati said, her voice dripping with venom.

"We don't know that."

"We don't?" Parvati turned and stared at her. "We invite Slytherins to our common room for the first time in Hogwarts history, give them a password, then the next morning we get that on our common room wall?"

Hermione drew closer to the wall. Dripping, rust-colored letters ... "Blood," she said softly. "These letters are written in blood."

"Godric help us," Parvati whispered. "Whose blood?"

"No way to tell," Hermione said. Or was there?

"Should we erase it?" Parvati raised her wand.

"No," Hermione said. "There could be a muggle-born out there ... hurt." She rubbed her forehead and tried to think past the pounding. "Parvati, please go get McGonagall. Then Madam Hooch. We'll need all the Heads of Houses."

"Slytherin, too?"

Hermione nodded. "Slytherin especially.'"

Parvati gave her a sideways glance, then ran out the portrait hole, glad to have something to do. Looking around to ensure she was alone in the common room, Hermione transfigured an empty butterbeer bottle into a potion vial. She approached the wall, nearly touching the last D in MUDBLOOD with her wand. She waved the wand slightly and the long drip stretching from the bottom of the D to the floor flew off the wall and into her vial, which filled with red blood.

Now what? Hermione spotted her beaded bag underneath the sofa she had dozed on last night. Where she lay while Malfoy ... no, it wasn't him. It wasn't.