Chapter Four � The Toulouse Children

Hermione lay sprawled on the cold tile. Her eyes were red, irritated, and drowning in salty liquid. She tried to take some deep breaths, but her breathing was ragged and shaky and refused to calm. Every time she thought she had a hold on herself, she thought about what had just happened and started to wail silently again.

Hermione needed to get out of the bathroom � or at least off of the floor. She couldn�t. Hermione sobbed helplessly into the warmth of the towel. At least the mermaid had enough decency to leave. However, Hermione was not to be left alone. Within a few minutes of her bawling, Moaning Myrtle had floated up from the still-filled tub.

Oh great, Hermione thought, just what I need. More ridicule! Hermione attempted to stifle her sniveling into the towel, but her efforts were in vain.

Thankfully, Myrtle didn�t poke fun at Hermione. Instead, the ghost floated down to the marble and sat beside the weeping teenager. �What�s wrong Hermy?� she asked, genuinely concerned. Hermione ignored the dreadful nickname and cried harder in to the towel, her body as scrunched up as it could go. She could not bring herself to speak of it. �Come now, weeping only gives you a headache. I should know,� Myrtle smiled weakly. Hermione was touched by the great display of kindness the spirit was showing her. It made her tear even more. 

�Oh honestly! If you�re not gonna say anything, I�m leaving!�  Her empty threat didn�t have much feeling behind it. Hermione, however, was desperate not to be alone so she sputtered out a couple of words between heavy sobs.

�He � he came�� she began.

�Who?� Myrtle asked urgently.

�M � M � Malfoy!� the girl wailed.

�And?�

�And � an � he � he � �

�WHAT?� the spirit of the dead girl was loosing her patience.

�S � sexual assault!� Hermione wailed.

Moaning Myrtle�s mouth was in the shape of a dainty little �O� as were her eyes. Then she gave a short haughty �Hah!� Hermione looked up, her eyes red, her cheeks wet and blotchy. �Lucius Malfoy�s son is certainly living up to his family�s name.� She said in a reminiscent voice.

Hermione turned back to her damp towel. Myrtle was obviously not going to provide much comfort. But after all, what could the mere reflection of a first year do for a physically, mentally and emotionally bruised seventh year?

Myrtle seemed to realize that Hermione was not very consoled. �Well,� she started, �at least you have that Hogsmead trip to look forward to� right?� Hermione looked up. Her eyes were still drowning in tears. This was all she needed! She wanted to be alone, get her crying over and done with. Maybe she would tell someone. She would. Harry, probably. But not now! Not today! She wanted hours to herself. She wanted to lock herself up in her room and not leave. But she couldn�t. Oh, no! She just had to sign up for the Hogsmead trip! The only way you could get out of these trips was if you were stuck in the hospital wing. Hermione didn�t want to be anywhere but alone with herself, so she could wallow over her attack in privacy.

Hermione got up. It would be no use hiding in the Prefects� Bathroom. Anyone could walk in there. Hermione gathered her robes and dressed. The white T-shirt she put on made her skin sting a little bit. Hermione pulled the shirt back, to see what was hurting her. Along her pale collar, there was a small semi-circle of hashes. Marks made by Draco�s teeth. The skin around that area was turning crimson and would soon be a bruised purple tint. Hermione let out a hiccough, a sound made by her trying to suppress a choking sob. Once she had her robes on, she threw her towel into the �Dirty� bin, and knelt beside the pool. She scooped up some purple water in her cupped hands and splashed her face as a final attempt in calming herself and washing away her tears. By now, the water was cool and refreshing.

Hermione made her way to the door, thanked Myrtle, even though she had not done much, and left.

*

Harry did not see Hermione until students who were leaving for Hogsmead were told to meet in the Entrance Hall. Her hair seemed frizzier than usual and her eyes were red. She attempted to smile and her cheeks looked blotchy. Something was definitely wrong in her world. Harry started to ask, �What�s wrong?� when his friend cut him off. �Let�s not talk about it now,� she said through clenched teeth, her fake smile growing slightly wider as if this would make whatever it was go away. The rather small group of students departed for the wizarding town.

The Boy Who Lived and his unusually quiet friend made their way to their usual table at the Three Broomsticks. Harry ordered two butterbeers from Madame Rosemerita. Hermione did not say anything but instead, had a blank stare over her pale face. When the butterbeers were set on the table, Hermione�s pasty, pruned fingers closed around the warm glass, but did not bother to lift it to her mouth. Her eyes were glazed and unfocused.

�Hermione�� Harry started. Hermione moved her gaze onto him. It was still unfocused and blank. She did not reply.

�Hermione, what�s wrong?� Harry asked. The girl�s eyes started to water and little droplets splashed out with a blink. She didn�t bother to wipe them away and remained silent.

�Hermione!� Harry was really worried now. What was wrong with his friend? He seemed to have broken through to her. Her eyes lost their vacant stare and he saw a pleading, tearful look replace it. She reminded him of a little girl, wearing pigtails tied tightly by little pink bows. She was hugging her knees under her puffy white dress and was rocking back and forth. Tears were flowing down her cheeks and she was looking up at him, begging him to comfort her. Harry moved closer and hugged his distraught friend. He heard her let out a gasp and all the tears she had been holding back came rushing out of her.

�Oh, Harry!� she sobbed into his shoulder. She tried to hush her wails, but they came out as an almost-soundless breath. Her nails dug into the fabric of Harry�s robes. He patted Hermione�s back and held on to her tightly for as long as she needed. His shoulder was growing soggy and people were beginning to watch them. Harry pulled away and looked into her tear-streaked face. Her sculptured eyebrows were helplessly scrunched upwards; her lower lip was quivering uncontrollably.

�Now, why don�t you tell me what happened?� Harry asked gently. Hermione managed to splutter out the story between choked sobs and hiccoughs. Harry�s expression grew from shock to anger to sympathy and anger.

�He�s done it this time! He�s really done it this time!� Harry spat. �Does he think he can just go up and do that to my best friend?� he asked, outraged at the thought that Malfoy had enough self-righteousness to think he could get away with his actions unscathed.

Harry started thinking up some punishments, all of which were too kind for the sleazy bastard. Hermione had re-entered her daze and was staring blankly at the door, watching people enter and exit. Neither of them had touched their butterbeer.

�How about we make some of the �Draught of Sleeping Death� Snape�s always threatening us with? And then we�ll � � Harry stopped suddenly. His hand flew up to his scar and his face grimaced.

Hermione didn�t seem to notice. Her eyes widened, but Harry had a feeling it was not because his scar had hurt. Harry turned to look at the doorway where Hermione�s gaze had been fixed. His vision turned into sweet slow motion.

A cloaked figure walked into the room. A snowstorm had recently started up outside, judging by the white flakes sprinkled upon the individual�s hood. The person moved a pair of pale slender hands towards the hood. When they pulled the material back, Harry could see that the black fabric was inlaid with a bright red, shimmering cloth. Harry was now able to distinguish the figure as a girl. She looked to be about his age. Her shiny black hair was cut oddly, but beautiful nonetheless. There were thin bangs floating above her slim, sculptured eyebrows. A few tresses hung down to about her shoulders, layered from a point almost level with her chin so that the locks appeared to be sloping downwards. The rest of her hair was short, falling to chin-level at the most, and layered as well. There were tiny braids snaking around her head, most likely held together by the miniature beads that bejeweled her head. Her ebony hair framed her heart-shaped face marvelously.

Her eyes were shadowed, so he could not make out what color they were, but could see her beautiful dark lashes sweeping her cheeks softly as she blinked. Entering the light of the Three Broomsticks and opening her ferocious eyes, Harry thought that he saw a hint of scarlet in them! But that couldn�t be. No one had red eyes. Not any more, anyways� Harry put it out of his mind and focused on the rest of her face.

Her visage was pale and smooth, just like the rest of her. Her cheeks were tinted pink from the cold weather. Her slightly parted, shapely lips were plump and painted a vivid, dark crimson. When the girl turned her head over her shoulder, he noticed that her stretching neck bore a strap of black leather with silver cone-shaped spikes and studded punctures.

Even through the thick cloak that draped around her shoulders, you could see that her slim body was well defined. The girl was wearing a muggle outfit, and a rather teasing one at that. The strapless red top was stretched tight across her voluptuous chest and ended shortly before her pierced navel. Her tight stomach curved inwards and moved in harmony with her shapely hips. She was wearing a black skirt that ended about five inches above her knees. Her belt was oversized and tilted to the side, as was the fashion, giving the appearance that it was hanging off of her hips. Her pastel legs were balanced in accordance to her figure, the light dancing playfully on the curve of her calves with every step. When she moved, her entire body held a fierce, mesmerizing, almost inhuman elegance.

Harry watched as she was joined by two more cloaked figures. One was a head taller than the girl and the other was three inches shorter than the beauty. As the others removed their hoods, Harry saw that they had the same shiny black hair, only the taller one�s was messily gelled so that it stood up two and a half inches in haphazard curves and waves whereas the younger boy�s hair was shorter and neatly spiked up straight. Again, Harry saw flashes of red in their eyes. It�s probably the light, he told himself as he watched, awestruck by the three pale strangers. Harry looked at the tallest one. He looked to be around their age. He had black parallelograms for eyebrows and the same prism shaped eyes the others had. His cheekbones were defined and sideburns ran down both sides of his face, thinning out as they moved above his jaw. Besides that, his face was clean-shaven. The younger boy was almost a split image of the older one � except that he had no sideburns and his face had a more boyish expression than the serious, brooding one his brother (or so Harry thought) gave off. The man gave the younger members of their party a tooth-bearing grin and Harry noted that his teeth were perfectly straight, except for his �fangs�, which were pronounced against the evenness of his other teeth. The other two smiled back, flashing identical sets of teeth.

Wow, Harry marveled, their genes must be really similar.

They moved to the bar and wordlessly moved their mouths. Harry supposed they were asking for a menu or something, but he was too far away to hear what they were saying. In a couple minutes� time, they had gotten their drinks (butterbeers and a Fire Whiskey for the taller man), and went to sit at a table away from Harry�s view.

Harry stared fixatedly at the spot where the three would have stood, had they still been in his view. Then, he jerked his head, bringing himself back to reality. He saw that Hermione was looking blankly at where he had been staring at only a few seconds ago, a spellbound look played across her face. She was no longer crying but her cheeks were still blotchy and tear-streaked.

Harry didn�t know what to say to his distant friend. She looked as if all she wanted to do was to sit and stare blankly at one spot. Well, if that was what Hermione wanted, than Harry would let his friend have her wish. Harry picked up his now tepid butterbeer and sipped it thoughtfully.

That girl was gorgeous. She obviously wasn�t from around here. Even though Hogsmead was a wizarding town and attracted strange creatures, Harry was sure that the witch (she must be a witch, what else could she be?) was from a different place. Harry�s heart gave an excited jolt. She might enroll at Hogwarts! He�d get to see her in the halls and maybe in a few of his classes and she may even end up in Gryffindor! How wonderful that would be! But what if she was only visiting family? What if she was only staying for the holidays? What if she was already out of school? Harry�s heart sank. Oh well, she would probably never go for him anyways, Harry thought, trying to convince himself that it wasn�t really a loss. His stomach tightened into a knot. He was worrying himself over a girl he barely knew when his best friend was right beside him in need of some sort of psychological assistance. He cleared his mind of the enchanting stranger and back to Hermione.

�Hermione� Hermione are you there?� he asked.

Hermione snapped her head in his direction, her lower lip pulsating so vigorously that it appeared to be a blur.

�Do you want to be alone right now?� he inquired as if he was talking to a child.

Hermione nodded her head, followed by a series of sniffles.

Harry stood up and offered Hermione his hand. The sniffling girl accepted his hand and stood up as well. He put his arm around his friend and the two made their way out of the crowded bar.

The cobblestone streets were packed with Hogwarts students, tourists, and Hogsmead inhabitants. The pair made their way past the dozen shops and through the crowds, stopping once, at the candy shop. Harry bought Hermione a chunk of chocolate that she nibbled on as they went through the secret passageway that was located within the shop. Climbing out of the earthy tunnel and back onto the gleaming Hogwarts floors, Hermione and Harry made their way to Gryffindor Tower.

They entered the cozy circular room that was empty except for a few first and second years that weren�t old enough to go to the wizarding village. The older people moved towards their usual squashy chairs by the fireplace.

After a few minutes of silence, Harry asked if she wanted to talk about it. He noticed that tears were rolling down her damp cheeks. Her eyelids were low and her eyes were looking down into the fire. He could see the reflection of the flames dancing on her glassy eyes, the image altered by her tears.

�No.�

Her voice was calm. There was no hint of helplessness within her tone. The pitch did not waver as it had when she had explained the story to him. Instead, it was icy and vengeful. Besides the fire�s reflection that danced on the surface of her watery eyes, Harry was sure that he saw a greater fire burning behind the little cinnamon orbs.

Harry did not say anything more for the remainder of the night. He knew Hermione wanted time to herself to think things through. After the skies outside the window had turned a darker shade, he informed her that he was going to get supper and would be back in a few minutes.

The Great Hall was unoccupied and Harry felt very foolish to be sitting in the giant room alone, chewing quietly on the chicken that had magically appeared on the golden plates. Standing up to leave, Harry grabbed a few handfuls of food for Hermione. He was quite sure that she wouldn�t be leaving the Common Room that much.

As Harry placed his feet upon the stone staircase, he felt a rumble from beneath. Quickly grabbing the railings beside him for balance, Harry watched as the ground shifted below him. The staircase was attaching itself onto a staircase-free landing. Harry climbed up the rest of the stairs and paused. He could hear footsteps coming from the other end of the corridor.

Hiding himself behind a statue of a giant, haughty looking owl, Harry tried to make out the conversations.

�We shall have you sorted as soon as the other students return from their holidays,� said a voice Harry immediately recognized as Dumbledore�s.

�Thank you very much Professor,� said the low voice of a man. It had a slightly raspy edge to it. �You don�t know how much this means to us.�

Harry heard a soft shuffle of robes.

�But understand me,� Dumbledore began in a serious tone. Had Harry been there, he was sure he would have see a stern, authoritative look across the wise man�s face. �If I hear any word of one of these children harmed � in any way � you shall all be thrown out of Hogwarts. Have I made myself clear?�

�Yes sir,� Harry heard mingled voices speak simultaneously. One was low and raspy � that of the male; the other�s was higher pitched � a girl�s voice; the third voice was indistinguishable. It could have been a girl�s voice, or it could have been one of a younger lad.

Something clicked in Harry�s brain. Could these be the three unforgettable characters he had seen in the Three Broomsticks earlier today? He tried to picture their mouths wordlessly move as he had witnessed in the bar. Then he tried to add the voices he had just heard to the image. It was too hard to concentrate on the complicated vision Harry was trying to conjure so he gave up. There was a creek of a door opening and shutting. Harry chanced a sneak around the statue and saw that the hall was empty. Dumbledore must have lead the soon-to-be Hogwarts students into one of the classrooms. Harry took this opportunity to make his way to Gryffindor Tower.

The staircase change had set him back about five minutes, but eventually, he was back on the right track to his Common Room. Climbing through the hole behind the Fat Lady, Harry saw silhouetted bumps from behind the squashy chairs that could only be Hermione. Harry made his way around the chair and saw that Hermione had not moved. Her position was exactly as it was when he had left. The only thing different was that her eyes were closed by sleep. A few tears peaked out from the corners of her eyes and slipped down the sides of her face slowly. Harry watched her sleep. People always had this ability of looking calmer, younger � childlike even � when they slept. However, Hermione�s slumber was not calm and childlike. Her cheeks were wet and tinted scarlet while her eyebrows were screwed up in her state of helplessness again.

Harry�s heart went out for her. He wished he could help her, but he had a feeling that even the worst punishment for Malfoy that they could carry out wouldn�t console her in the slightest. He wasn�t sure anything could console her right now. Harry sighed at this new feeling of uselessness.

�Accio table!� Harry chanted, the small table flying over to where he stood. He placed the small snacks on its surface then summoned his blanket. The scarlet sheet floated down from the Boys� Dormitories and into Harry�s open hands. Harry lifted the blanket over Hermione�s sitting body and draped the rest of it over his shoulders as he slouched down, resting his head against the arm of the chair.

*

A week had passed since that horrible day. Ron, Ginny and Aria had returned to Hogwarts, as well as the other students, and were immediately informed of the evil doings Draco Malfoy had committed. All of them were shocked and like Harry had, instantly started to plot revenge.

�That definitely ticks him off as �Extreme Ass� on the bastard scale!� Aria said resentfully.

�We�ll give him Sleeping Death � � Ron started.

�No, first we�ll gang beat �im � � Ginny interrupted.

�And we�ll stuff Polyjuice Potion down his throat � �

�With a rat hair in it!�

�Yeah! We�ll turn him into the hairy rat that he is!�

�And we�ll do things to �im that�d make the Department of Magical Animals� Rights� skin crawl!�

Throughout her friends� plotting, Hermione remained silent. While she liked the idea of torturing the spineless ferret, it would be against the rules, and no matter how much he had done to her, Hermione could never be that mean. Argh! I�m too nice for my own good, she thought angrily.

�Per � Perhaps I should just tell McGonagall,� Hermione spoke up.

Four pairs of eyes stared at her in disbelief.

�Y-You mean to say that you�re gonna let that no good � �

�Ron�� Harry said warningly.

�� slimy � �

�Ron,� Ginny said, elbowing her brother. Ron took no notice.

�� son-of-a-bitch � �

�Ron!� Aria pushed him.

��get away without a good ass-kicking?� Ron finished incredulously.

�Well,� Hermione began, �we � we would get into trouble i � if we ��

�I can�t believe you�re gonna give that bastard a free ticket outa � �

�Ron, it�s Hermione�s choice whether or not she tells a teacher � � Aria tried to reason with him.

Ron grumbled, crossed his arms and fidgeted.

�That doesn�t mean we still can�t pummel him into oblivion!� Aria continued.

Harry, Ron and Ginny looked at Hermione to see her reaction to this. She did not protest or try and object to Aria�s phrase. Almost immediately, the two red heads and the darker haired people continued to think of horrible tortures for the little fucker.

Hermione listened to their scheming, but did not add any ideas of her own.  

Just then, McGonagall entered the crowded Common Room. �Can I have your attention please?�

Her voice was magically magnified and easily silenced the noisy room.

�Professor Dumbledore would like you all to gather in the Great Hall,� she spoke, her voice back to normal. Because of the students� lack of movement, she sternly added, �Now.�

The students filed out through the portrait hole as quickly as they could. The large hall was promptly flooding with Gryffindors of all ages. As they came down the stairs, they saw the Slytherins coming up from the dungeons and the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs coming down from different staircases. The four houses merged together as they entered the Great Hall and split apart as they took their seats at the separate tables.

The students were talking amongst themselves as they waited for Dumbledore�s usual �Welcome Back from Holidays� speech and for the food to magically appear before them. When the old professor stood up from his spot at the raised table and cleared his throat, the entire Hall was silenced.

�Welcome back students of Hogwarts,� he gave a pause, during which, a few students mumbled �Thank you professor,� in unisition. �It is great to see all of your happy faces once more,� �Happy?� Harry thought. Looking around, there were only a few happy faces. Most of the Slytherins looked like they�d rather be anywhere else, and the only �happy� ones were a couple of the seventh year boys who were surely drunk or high and trying to hide it. The Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students, however, merely looked bored. Dumbledore continued, not noticing the glum faces that stared him in the face. �Tonight, is a night of beginnings.�

�Well of course it is! It�s the first day of January!� Ron commented.

�A new year, a new term, and for the Toulouse children, it is the start of their lives at a new school.�

�Toulouse children?� The students murmured excitedly at their tables.

Dumbledore gestured to three dark haired people standing in the side. Harry and Hermione gasped. These were the mesmerizing people they had seen in the Three Broomsticks. The girl and the younger boy were dressed in Hogwarts robes, which, sadly, didn�t show off the body as well as the muggle outfits the girl had worn the last time Harry saw her. The beauty had a bored expression on her face, waiting for Dumbledore to move on, the young boy was looking around the Hall in awe and the eldest was standing in his cloak and muggle outfit, looking dutiful and adult.

�Tonight, Thomas and Leah shall be sorted into a house and attend classes with fellow fifth and seventh years. Their older brother, Dylan, shall be assisting our teachers with their lessons.�

Harry heard Lavender and Parvati squeal not far from him. �I hope he shows up at all our classes!�

�So, on with the sorting!�

McGonagall brought out the battered Sorting Hat and placed it on a stool in front of the four house tables.

�Toulouse, Thomas,� McGonagall called. Thomas walked up to the stool and placed the old hat on his head as he sat. After a few minutes of silence, the hat called out �Gryffindor!�

The table erupted with cheers, mostly hooting from the fifth year girls, as Thomas sat down amongst his new classmates.

�Toulouse, Leah� McGonagall announced.

Even through the thick Hogwarts robes, Harry could see that her hips were turning like a supermodel as she walked up to the stool. Sitting daintily on the stool as if this was the last place she�d choose to be, Leah put the hat on her head.

Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Harry�s mind was chanting. His fingers had unconsciously crossed themselves.

A lot quicker than it had with Thomas, the hat opened its brim of a mouth and shouted out �Slytherin!�

Harry watched as Leah floated over to a table bursting with cheers, the loudest and longest coming from the drunk seventh years. His gaze was fixed on her as she smiled at her new classmates; as a drunk Matt slipped his arm around her; as a drunk John slipped his arm around the other side; as she brushed both of them off; as she gave Malfoy a death look when he attempted to slide his arms around her.