Corrupting The Innocents
Title: Corrupting the Innocents
Author name: Romulus Lupin
Author email: galigad@yahoo.com
Category: Romance
Sub Category: Angst
Keywords: H/Hr
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None.
Summary: A sequel of sorts to Dream Chasing. One
night in the Gryffindor Common Room, a frequent visitor chances upon something that she had only heard about but had
never seen before.
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This plot bunny bit soon after I completed Dream Chasing and I was already up to about five chapters when an accident made me lose all the files I had written to that point. I've been trying to reconstruct those chapters but it has been slow going; I decided to start posting what I had in hopes that the Muses (who must be out on a drinking binge right now) will come back and party with me.
I am also dedicating this story to both my dear, dear friends who made cameo appearances in DC (you know who you are ;)) and to so many other people who have had an impact on my life in the fandom, especially those who have recommended my fics in PK's recommendations sites, everyone who has ever reviewed my stories … and most especially, my extended 'net-family.'
Chapter 1.
I need to close my eyes. Much as I wanted to continue reading about the subtle science and exact art of potion making but there were times when the spirit was willing, but the eyes were weak.
Or something like that.
The words on the page were blurring and I bit back the frustration threatening to escape my lips. I have to memorize the components of Pepper-Up Potion tonight, lest the greasy-haired Professor Snake - I mean, Snape - took it into his mind to sneer at the failings of the American wizarding educational system.
I lean back in my comfortable armchair and close my eyes with a weary sigh, the chaotic sounds of a Common Room in overdrive washing over me -- and I couldn't help but smile at the mix of luck, fate or Divine Intervention that had landed me here in Britain's premium school of witchcraft and wizardry.
The noise was mostly coming from the younger students, I knew. It was the middle of the week and there were exams to take, potions to memorize, charms to learn, wand movements to practice for the coming day. I heard snatches of conversation here and there - the twelve uses of Dragon's Blood; the difference between Grindylows and Kappas; whether Hippogriffs were symbols of love -- which was the better means of Divination: tea leaves or tarot cards?
"Check!" I blinked and turned in my seat -- and I had to bite on my lip to keep from laughing at the irritated look on Nic's face as she contemplated the wizarding chess board where the King was haranguing her for having fallen into a trap. 'Poor Nic,' I thought. 'Chess has never been her game … too bad the Quidditch pitch is off-limits tonight - she could easily wipe Ron's smirk off if they're playing Chaser and Keeper out there.'
Before I could close my eyes, a sudden cheer made me turn that way -- in time to see Fred (or was it George?) jumping up and down, swatting at his burning eyebrows and I couldn't help but join in the laughter at seeing another game lost to that incomparable piano player and card shark, Erin.
Right on cue, a voice sounded from another corner of the room and I turned to look at a smirking Jim as he heckled the Twins: "Told you Erin didn't just play the piano in Atlantic City! When will you ever learn?"
I smiled as Erin stuck out her tongue at him; he didn't notice, however, as he was busy collecting his winnings from the chagrined Gryffindors who'd bet on the Twins finally breaking Erin's winning streak. Maybe Jim had a point, I thought: Erin's daily piano playing and finger exercises were what a card shark needed - and that would have been what made her Hogwarts' undisputed Champion at Exploding Snap.
I tried to shift to a more comfortable position and allowed the noise to wash over me; for some reason, being in the Gryffindor Common Room evoked a sense of comfort and security that I seldom felt outside my own home -- and not just because Fred and George kept loudly proclaiming to everyone who would listen that someone must have kidnapped me from Ginny's cradle when we were babies.
I smiled at the memory, thankful that our chance encounter with the legendary Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry in Hogsmeade on the day we arrived had forced changes in the plans for our integration into the school's student body.
The original plan was to have the Sorting Hat do its thing during the Easter Ball - an idea that Miss Anne vetoed the moment she heard about it, a reaction which - surprisingly -Professor Snape vigorously supported, and which had the rest of us breathing sighs of relief. After what happened in Quality Quidditch Supplies and the Three Broomsticks, none of us were looking forward to the prospect of being Sorted into Slytherin and having to deal with a still-smarting Draco Malfoy in the privacy of their Common Room!
The compromise that Miss Anne, with assistance from Sarah and Joyce, were able to work out was much more to our liking: we had been assigned our own dormitories and Common Room but were free to visit or even stay over with the other Houses, as long as we were invited there and we were not to be given the passwords to their entrances.
The Gryffindors (led by my 'brothers' George, Fred and Ron and my 'sister' Ginny from whom I was - supposedly - separated at birth) had, of course, given us the password to their Common Room and we had spent many an hour with them, although (to be honest) we spent just as much time with the other houses as we could.
I stole a quick glance around and nodded to myself, noting that almost everyone was there. Pat and Joyce were absent and I snickered to myself: Joyce would probably be in the library or with the Ravenclaws with whom she felt an intellectual affinity; Pat would doubtless be there to rein in her obsessive-compulsive streak and make sure that she got some rest before her brain fizzled out.
Not that the Ravenclaws were all books and learning, as I learned to my chagrin when I paid them a visit with Joyce. They had a sense of humor that could rival the Gryffindors at their finest - but one had to be quick with a verbal response and a sharp mind whenever they went into their cutting remarks and double entendres - and I smiled as I remembered comparing notes with Mandy and Lisa on the differences between Muggle Ballet and Wizarding Dance.
Nor were the Hufflepuffs the simplistic but loyal herbologists that everyone assumed from meeting Professor Sprout: I had spent many delightful hours talking with Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan about architecture and interior design from both Muggle and Magical perspectives, as well as even more fun and giggly hours with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot talking clothes, fashion and the latest gossip.
Kaze was the only one who'd made it into the Slytherin Common Room, but she wouldn't tell us much about that cold and drafty dungeon. She did tell us that Blaise and some others were perfect gentlemen all during her stay there; she would have enjoyed herself, she admitted, were it not for the snide remarks and cold looks that Malfoy and his minions kept throwing her way.
I leaned back in my chair and allowed the silence to wash over me - and I almost jumped as I realized that something was wrong-
The silence was deafening.
Only a moment ago, I couldn't find the quiet space needed to snatch a few moments of rest; granted, my memories and thoughts hadn't helped but the noise of the Common Room was, by itself, more than enough to distract me from either rest or study.
But now … I wondered if an angel had walked through the room and the people were standing in respectful silence until it passed.
I looked around, trying to see the reason why - and stopped when I turned towards the fireplace and a cozy collection of armchairs that Ron once told us was known as "Hermione's Study," but was now more commonly called "The Family Room."
It was something that I'd only heard about - no, actually it was something that had only been whispered about because it seemed that no one outside the Gryffindors really knew what was going on …
It was a cute scene, I thought: a cozy arrangement of low tables and comfortable chairs, Harry and Hermione sitting across each other with the Terrible Spawn beside them, the light from the flickering fire dancing across their faces, books and parchments scattered around them, the elders reviewing something that the children had given them … it made for a charming family picture that tugged at my heart.
Except for one thing.
Hermione was in her usual place and pose, head down, bushy hair over her face, quill in hand poised over the parchment she was reading, Carolyn beside her reading quietly. Cindy, on the other hand, was sitting beside Harry with a book on her lap but she had leaned back in her chair, eyes closed, her breathing slow and measured, doubtless taking a break from whatever it was she was reading.
And Harry …
He was in almost the same pose as Hermione - still as a statue, an eagle-feather quill poised over a parchment while the other hand held open a book on the table in front of him.
He wasn't looking at the parchment, however.
His eyes, hidden behind the glasses that reflected the dancing flames of the fire, were focused on something else.
Or someone else.
I was now a witness to something I had only heard about - the sight of Harry staring at her, a sight that made the whole room fall silent as we watched, waiting for something to happen.
Whatever it was.
We were all entranced by the sight - if there was any meaning to what we could see in front of us, it was something we would never discuss with anyone outside our Common Room. It was as if a secret pact had been made - what we saw here was for our eyes only; but why it should be so, no one could have expressed in words.
I started as I felt someone settling on the arm of my chair, and I heard a soft voice whispering to me, "You know what they're doing, don't you?"
I blinked as Erin continued, smiling as she watched Harry watching Hermione: "They're corrupting the innocents."