The Honey Badger's Plot

"Get out of my sight. Don't let me see you again!"

Woken by such a furious shout first thing in the morning, she had a strong feeling that today would be a very bad day.

She brought that gloomy mood to the breakfast table. She distractedly stirred the spaghetti on her plate, feeling no appetite at all. Everyone around her kept their distance to avoid being infected by her mood. Only Pete was still willing to come over and talk to her.

"Gloomy girl, what's wrong with you?" Pete approached reeking of smoke. Clearly, he had been smoking again.

"I think I've lost that strength."

"What strength?"

"To live." She ate the pasta on her plate as if chewing wax, unable to taste a thing.

Pete gave the back of her head a hard smack, making her cry out in pain.

"Tomorrow's Saturday. Want to go to Hogsmeade with me?"

Hogwarts' classes were not actually that demanding. It was only that the first week of term was especially busy, to get everyone out of holiday mode and back into studying. The new students also needed to get to know as many teachers as possible, so everyone had been rushing about nonstop.

Saturday and Sunday were both days off. Starting from the second week, there would be two classes in the morning, while afternoons only had classes if there was Potions. Everyone would have more time to do what they liked.

Romance was serious business too. Once they graduated, they should hurry up and get married and have children, helping increase the wizarding population. Those with no interest in that could join all sorts of clubs—Quidditch, Death Eaters, Slug Club, anything they wanted—as long as they remembered to return to their dormitories on time.

"We have Astronomy tonight. It might run late," she said wearily. After putting on a show and splitting up with Snape to return to their respective houses, she had gone to check on the construction of the tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow. A member of the Order of the Phoenix was on site communicating with the Dugbogs. These creatures, which looked rather like ferrets, could speak human language. At the current pace, they could reach that "beast cage" by tonight at the latest.

"Susan told me you had a surprise for me. What is it?"

"You'll find out in a few days." She looked up at the owls circling overhead. Could they carry something as large as a flying broomstick inside?

"Oh, Professor, you sound just like when I ask about my pop quiz grade. 'You'll find out in a few days.' Here, let me show you something." Pete glanced around. Only after making sure there were no professors nearby did he place a sheet of parchment on the table.

"What's this?"

"A tunnel map," Pete said in a lowered voice. "This is a secret passed down through Hufflepuff for a thousand years."

Badgers were good at digging, and digging required a great deal of magic related to earth. Pomona suddenly found herself interested in something new. She wanted to learn earth magic.

"Where did you get this?" Pomona watched as he unfolded the map. It showed Hogwarts' corridors and rooms, even the Headmaster's office.

"Ah, ah, don't ask." Pete wagged a finger in warning. "If you don't know, Pringle won't be able to pry the information out of you."

"Other than cracking his whip, what else can he do?" As soon as she said it, someone's cat ran over and curled up on her lap, startling her.

"Legilimency." Pete looked exasperated. "I really don't know who gave him that authority."

"What do you think about driving him away?" The tabby in Pomona's arms seemed particularly fond of having its chin scratched. It rubbed against her and meowed as she held it.

"I hate him too, but we need to handle things one at a time. Tomorrow, let's go to Hogsmeade and have a look around Honey Baron's, shall we?" Pete pointed to a passage on the map. "This route leads straight to their storeroom."

"Why was it built here?" She frowned warily. "Don't tell me it was for stealing?"

"They keep so much food there. Even if we don't go, other animals will." Pete furtively put the map away.

What kind of twisted logic was that?

"Yesterday, I heard a girl was pregnant. She said Pete did it. Was it you?"

"What? Merlin's chair leg, what does that have to do with me?" Pete reacted as if he had been scalded with boiling water. "Besides, there are so many Petes. How do you know she meant me?"

"Then why are you always doing such sneaky things?"

"You know I like Angie."

"Oh, please, Pete. I asked around. You get along very well with lots of girls. You can't keep doing this." She hated his carefree, game-playing attitude. She wanted him to be more devoted.

"You're ridiculous. What gives you the right to control my life?"

Pete smiled strangely, seeming to think that continuing the conversation would be a waste of time. He left without even eating breakfast. Pomona did not know whether this counted as parting on bad terms.

After the hot water was squeezed from the towel, it flowed down her back and into the bathtub again. She looked at the two familiar yet unfamiliar reflections in the mirror, feeling confused. Who were they?

Time passed in silence. They did not speak at all, or perhaps there was simply nothing to say. Only a mantel clock ticked steadily, marking the passage of time.

There was none of the bustle of school here, nor were there students constantly causing trouble. It felt as though something was missing, or perhaps, as the Weasley brothers would say, it lacked fun.

Dorian Grubbly-Plank believed Dementors were resurrected dead people. That was why their emotions were chaotic, and why they were interested only in human emotions. And she had resurrected one with the Resurrection Stone.

In that fairy tale, the resurrected girl's emotions had also been chaotic, and in the end she died in melancholy. So was she a witch or a Muggle? Sometimes, she felt that those cloaked monsters resembled Death.

"Was playing with Lily really that much fun?" he suddenly asked. "Did she still insist on cooking in that Muggle way?"

You knew perfectly well that once she had made up her mind, nothing could pull her back. That small woman was more stubborn and obstinate than anyone.

"Professor Sprout, so skilled in food magic? Even the Carrow siblings were fooled by you." He began to laugh strangely. "They call you sweetheart."

That was because they had graduated in 1970 and had missed that whole spectacle!

"The books say that being with a Veela brings misfortune and illness. Maybe, just as you said, I'll die young." He set down the towel and began slowly tracing the skin of her back with the back of his hand and his middle finger. "The Dark Lord once said not to settle for merely living. You could eat oatmeal and live to a hundred, but that would not make you a true Slytherin. If the price of surrender was mediocrity, then it was better to die gloriously like a nobleman. I thought I could do it, but when Dumbledore raised his wand, I begged for mercy."

Those hands that so often handled caterpillars, toads, and venomous snakes began to roam over her body. Then he pressed close behind her and whispered into her ear like a snake. "I desperately want to live, but not the way I lived before at Spinner's End. I want to be like Lucius, with a beautiful wife, with everyone sitting properly at the dining table to eat. My mother never used a wand when she cooked at home because my father did not like it. And they argued all the time, as though even food could not make them shut up."

After whispering into one ear, he moved to the other. "Magic changed my life. Do you know what I thought when I first used a wand to conjure up a table full of food?"

He adjusted the mirror so that both of them appeared in it. "The Mirror of Erised shows a person the deepest, most desperate desire in their heart. This is what I saw then. What did you see?"

The same thing you saw.

"You are not some Sleeping Beauty waiting to be saved in a Muggle fairy tale. You are the witch who wrapped the entire castle in thorns. We were never good people to begin with, so why should we care what anyone else thinks?"

He lifted her chin and made her look directly into his hollow, vacant eyes. "You are not my mother. Now, as the Dark Lord said, I am going to do what my heart desires. Are you going to stop me?"

Even if she wanted to, she had no ability to do anything.

The moment that thought surfaced, he smiled smugly.

"Am I right?" He raised his wand. "I've learned the nonverbal spell for Legilimency."

Despicable!

He stood and began unfastening the buttons of his clothes.

"Let's try something different today, darling. No one will come to disturb us, because they all think I'm terribly pitiful right now."