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HP Chapter 119: Disappointment
🕑 Added 2025-10-06 18:12:41 +0000 UTCAnother week passed. During that time, Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn’t seek out Anne or Fanny, which brought Anne a sense of relief. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she realized how foolish the whole thing had been. She had only confronted Harry, but if Hermione had pressed her with questions… well, Anne honestly didn’t know what she would’ve done. She simply couldn’t bring herself to be harsh with Hermione.
At least talking to Fanny afterward, sharing what was on her mind, had helped a lot. Having a friend like Fanny felt incredibly comforting.
Maybe she could stay out of this whole mess for a good while, at least until the end of term. Hopefully until after the OWLs. That was the plan, anyway.
On Sunday morning, Anne was happily tidying up her small workstation in the corner of Greenhouse One. Professor Sprout had allowed her to set it up last term, but Anne hadn’t used it much this semester due to her arm injury.
She was about to put away a freshly washed glass vial when a very familiar voice called out.
"Anne!"
It was Hermione.
Startled, Anne’s hand slipped. The vial fell and shattered on the table. For a second, she froze in panic, and then, without thinking, reached out to grab the shards.
“Hey, ” Hermione caught her hand just in time, then quickly pulled out her wand. “Reparo!”
The vial mended itself instantly.
Anne picked up the now-whole glass and placed it carefully back on the shelf before turning to face Hermione. “Uh... good morning.”
Hermione beamed. “Good morning, Anne! I really loved the birthday gift you sent me, and the cake was amazing too!”
Oh.
Anne suddenly remembered. Back during the summer, she had prepared Hermione’s birthday gift and placed it on her bookshelf, giving strict instructions to Owl to send it on the night of September 18th, so Hermione would find it first thing in the morning. And the cake? That had been something she’d asked Dobby to handle on the second night of term.
But then she’d completely forgotten about all of it. Originally, she'd even planned a little birthday party for Hermione’s coming-of-age. Of course, that had been before all the chaos. After everything spiraled, she never told Owl or Dobby to cancel the plan.
She’d also been actively avoiding anything related to Hermione, or the three of them, this past week.
Avoidance was a choice, sure. But it didn’t mean the consequences just disappeared. Case in point: here they were.
“Um, ” Anne stammered, then quickly said, “I’m glad you liked it... oh! And happy birthday!”
Hermione gave her a bright smile. “Thanks, Anne. But actually, I came to talk about something else.”
“Oh?” Anne’s nerves spiked. What else? What now? She wasn’t sure what she’d do if Hermione really pressed her. Or worse, came any closer.
“I figured it out,” Hermione said cheerfully.
Anne’s heart skipped a beat. Figured what out? What was she about to say? And could she please back up a little?
“What you said to Harry, that day, was absolutely right!”
“Huh?” Anne blinked.
“I get it now. After that talk, Harry never argued with Umbridge again. And what you said about avoiding direct confrontation made so much sense. If she won’t teach us, then we teach ourselves, ”
“Wait, teach yourselves?” Anne echoed.
Hermione nodded earnestly. “Exactly! We’ll learn on our own. I talked to Harry about it. He hasn’t decided yet, but I think it’s a great idea. There’s real danger out there, Anne. Voldemort is gaining power again. We need to be prepared. We need to be able to defend ourselves. If Hogwarts won’t teach us anything useful, then Harry can! He can be our teacher, teach us spells, defense magic, everything.”
Anne leaned against the workbench, subtly trying to put some space between herself and Hermione, who was standing far too close for comfort. After a moment, Anne’s brain caught up and she realized what Hermione was saying.
“Wait. Are you talking about… forming a group? Like, an actual organization, with Harry teaching you all Defense Against the Dark Arts?”
“Yes! Isn’t that a brilliant idea?” Hermione’s eyes sparkled as she leaned even closer, her enthusiasm practically radiating off her.
“Uh, sure…” Anne could feel her face flush. Hermione was almost touching her now.
Hermione, thrilled by Anne’s agreement, straightened up. “Great! So, will you join us?”
“What? Me?!” Anne froze. Logic and old memories started to trickle back into her mind. After a pause, she asked carefully, “Wait, has Harry actually agreed to this?”
“This morning,” Hermione replied. “I think he sees how much we need it. Umbridge isn’t teaching us anything, and the threat outside is real. We have to learn to defend ourselves.”
“But, ” Anne started to reply, only for Hermione to step closer again, eyes glowing with the same intensity she had for S.P.E.W.
“I even thought about where we could meet next Saturday, at the Hog’s Head in Hogsmeade. What do you think?”
Anne instinctively leaned back. “Sounds great, ” Her ears were burning. But she wasn’t about to lose control. Quickly, before Hermione could interrupt again, Anne blurted, “But I can’t join. I absolutely can’t.”
Hermione’s face fell.
“I, I’m not saying your idea is bad,” Anne tried to explain. “But right now, I just can’t.”
Hermione didn’t press. She simply shook her head, accepting it.
“I’m sorry,” Anne said quietly.
Hermione stepped forward and gave her a hug, completely catching Anne off guard.
“You’ve already encouraged me so much,” Hermione said softly. Then she let go, flashed a smile, and added, “I’ve got to get back to the library. Lots to do. See you!” With a wave, she ran off.
Anne stood frozen, watching Hermione disappear from the greenhouse.
After a long pause, a rush of emotion swept through her. Part of her mind kept justifying things logically, but Hermione’s disappointed expression lingered at the edge of her thoughts.
By lunchtime, Anne sat down beside Fanny, looking completely out of it.
“What’s wrong with you? You were fine this morning,” Fanny asked, eyeing her curiously.
“I think I’ve done too many stupid things lately and now karma’s caught up with me,” Anne muttered gloomily.
Fanny raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.
The rest of the week passed with Anne avoiding eye contact with Hermione. But every time she caught a glimpse of her, that disappointed look came rushing back.
Soon it was Friday night. Tomorrow was the Hogsmeade weekend. Everyone else in the dorm was asleep, but Anne lay wide awake, tossing and turning.
The next morning, when Fanny came to wake her, Anne pulled the blanket over her head. “I didn’t sleep enough. I’m skipping today,” she mumbled.
“Okay,” Fanny replied casually before heading out with Pansy and the others. After all, Anne had done this before.
Once they were gone, Anne rolled around in bed a few times, then threw off the blanket, ran her hands through her hair, and muttered, “I must be losing it.”
But despite the complaint, she jumped up, dressed quickly, and rummaged under her desk. From a wooden trunk, she pulled out a black robe, a pair of black-rimmed glasses, and a face mask.
Stuffing them into her bag, she slung it over her shoulder and raced to the fourth floor of the castle. After confirming no one was around, she drew her wand and pointed it at the statue of the one-eyed witch. “Dissendium.”
The statue slid aside, revealing a shadowy passage just wide enough for a person to crawl through. Anne ducked in, and the entrance sealed behind her.
“Lumos,” she whispered. The tip of her wand lit up, guiding her through the narrow, winding tunnel.
She crawled for about thirty minutes until the space opened into a larger, crumbling stone passage. The walls were uneven, some sections exposing bare earth.
Another half hour brought her to a staircase. “Finally,” she muttered, tightening her cloak.
Near the top, she paused and searched with her lit wand until she found a circular handle. Twisting it, she pushed open a trapdoor.
She emerged into a cramped cellar filled with barrels and wooden crates. Several bore logos she recognized, after all, she’d helped come up with the branding. This was the basement of Honeydukes in Hogsmeade.
“Whew. Made it,” she whispered, slipping between crates and heading up a few steps to knock on a door.
After a moment, Madam Flume opened it and blinked in surprise. “Oh? Anne! What are you doing here? And through the tunnel, no less? Isn’t today Hogsmeade weekend?”
“Good morning, Madam Flume. Uh, I’ve got a bit of a secret mission. Would you mind keeping it quiet and letting me use your back door?”
“Alright,” she said with a nod, not pressing further.
“Thanks,” Anne said gratefully.
When she stepped out the back, Anne looked entirely different. Wrapped in a long black cloak, face half-covered by a mask, and a low hood pulled down over black-rimmed glasses. Even her amber eyes were concealed behind dark lenses.
She glanced up at the clear blue sky, adjusted her glasses, and oriented herself before heading toward the Hog’s Head Inn.
