It was something that only Hermione Granger would do when she had loads of doubts. Throughout the past five years the talented young witch would always make her discoveries by researching those pesky topics. The library had never let her down before... until now that is. Day six spent in the library and there was still no answer to a question that has been unanswered in Hogwarts since last Monday. What rare case of Spattergroit did Harry get? How then, with a whole entire week passing by had the newest most astounding mystery of them all given Hermione know-it-all Granger so much woe? The library has been such a great refuge for those cravings for knowledge since the beginning, but now enough was enough even for such a book-loving individual like herself.

"Oh!" exclaimed Hermione with great frustration as she slammed shut the hundred and fifty- second book, "Theres just has to be an answer in at least one of these!"

Flustered, the young witch hungrily grabbed for her next read while Ron Weasley from across the table, eyeballed her uneasily.

Completely drained in energy, body and mind the redheaded boy sighed in defeat. It just so happens that the studious girl had drilled him through his own readings from dawn until dusk, day after day, and night after night. No wonder why he felt so edgy! Ron sat waiting in agony for his friend to tare through another textbook in desperation for the answers they both needed to find. Unable to find a comfortable position to sit, Ron shifted in his seat while Hermione, yet again, tossed another useless book off to the side.

For merlin's sake! he barely began to read his own book! The problem was solved when Hermione agitatedly grabbed it out from in front of him and then proceeded to flip to the next page. There he sat stunned, Hermione was on fire! Sighing though, Ron snatched up another book and flung open the cover. It didn't take long before the endless lines of black wordings had blurred together in his vision and numbed his mind.

An exhausted yawn finally claimed the Gryffindor teen as he allowed himself to stretch.

"Come on, Hermione.", nudged Ron finally, "I'm knackered and we've been at it for days! If anything about Spattgroit was going to turn up, then we would've already found something by now."

Unfortunately Hermione was already midway into one of her 'moods' as she lifted her eyes from her book to shoot Ron a stubborn glance.

"Well if you think you have something better to do, Ronald, then by all means go do it. It will sport your loyalty just swell.", promptly snapped the girl as she quickly took the offense.

Ron gulped down the lump in his throat as he flung his hands protectively out in front of his faced and waved them dismissively side to side.

"No, No, no Don't take it that way, alright? Look I..." He trailed off as he leaned in towards his friend with an apologetic look plastered on his face, "I want to help Harry just as much as you do, but Hermione, It's been a week...", sighed the redhead as he brought his hand to his stomach.

"I'm famished, I haven't slept, and I think....", Ron withdrawn his other hand away from his sore seat and pointed to it accusingly, "That my bum has lost all sense of feeling and will probably never be the same again."

As predicted the Gyffindor girl savored the boy a disgruntled scowl without any difficulty. After all, if Hermione could not put a Weasley in his place than nobody could.

"One more hour," said the girl short and to the point, "We are staying here until breakfast and that's final." Despite the warning given and the death glare admonished so bluntly, Ron finally give into the ensnaring hunger pains of his stomach and as a result, fumbled for food tucked away in his robe pockets.

Ron scuffed at the comment as he leaned back into his chair, "Right, Breakfast. That's also what you said yesterday morning about lunch and dinner!" hissed Ron as he pulled out a treacle tart and snorted amusedly, "The whole past week, just one more bloody hour!"

Hermione glared sternly into her book, "Don't push it, Ron."

"Oh, I'm not pushing anything.", replied Ron innocently as he sneakily placed his treat on the table in front of him.

Hermione rolled her eyes with annoyance, "Smashing, Ronald."

Well obviously Hermione wasn't up to joking around today, like she ever was anyway. Ron then smugly crossed his arms over his chest, pleased with himself as Hermione continued to dive into her book oblivious to Ron's licking of his lips.

Suddenly the girl's current read was interrupted by crunching coming from across the table. At the sound, Hermione snapped her head up and found to her displeasure Ron munching loudly on his tart.

"Have you gone mad!?", questioned the girl through a deadly hiss.

Immediatly Ron stopped chewing though his mouth was full with food as he spoke, "mmWha Mione?"

Royally pissed off Hermione could barely manage a deadly whisper, "No eating, in case you're too slow to realize this: we're in a library!"

"I'm bloody starving over here!" exclaimed Ron after swallowing his bite.

"Well if you wish to get us kicked out because you can't control your stomach for another hour then go ahead and leave. You are impossible!"

Hermione threw her hands in the air, fed up wit her friend and his poor sense of values. After a few by-passing minutes with Ron fumbling with the treacle tart in his hands everything seemed to settle as Ron's thoughts festered.

Ron hated everything in life that had to do with books to begin with, so clearly, all of his effort to stay in this bookish prison was only for Harry. It was a no brainier that his best mate needed him now more than anything. With that hapless reason alone, Ron took all the time needed to reluctantly stuff the sweet back into his robes for later use even as his stomach grumbled in protest.

"Right.", mumbled he looking down at the table, "For Harry."

Hermione didn't comment, instead she got up from her chair, disappeared behind a bookshelf and left Ron to dwell on his actions.

Considering the fact that the teen hadn't had time to rest, it was clear to why he was acting so rash. Truth behold, Ron and Hermione have literally been up since the breaking of dawn, everyday till curfew and sometimes past it. They haven't slept much since the night McGonagal came up to their tower to tell them about Harry and how they were denied visiting him till further notice. Then it was Potions with Snape that blew everything out of proportion. Up until this very hour, both teenagers had ceremoniously hoped that they would be able to find out more about their friend's "rare condition" during their breaks. Though no proof of this has shown it's ugly head to them yet.

However, Hermione's own points to persist onwards were made clear right as she reappeared from behind the bookshelves, slammed down the next pile of books, and startled Ron out of his slump.

"This is the last stack, Ron, deal with it. I believe that even you are capable of controlling your appetite until breakfast.", scolded the girl as she irritably snatched up another book from the gigantic pile, "And honestly, would it kill you to read for once in your lifetime instead of sitting there drooling like a mindless troll?"

Besides scowling at the fresh pile of books, Ron could do nothing more than melt further into the table at the mere thought of more reading.

"Well yea, it would actually", he said trying to fight off another yawn , "And if it doesn't soon, then I ought to slam out my brains with a banshee scull to put an end to this misery."

To make his point clearer Ron folded both arms on top of the table and proceeded to use them as rest for his head. Hermione responded to this display by thrusting an open textbook inches from the redhead's nose.

"Here. Read it" , Hermione commanded impatiently as she picked up a book of her own.

"Fine then.", snapped Ron with much attitude intended as he snatched up the text from her, "And not to bubble your cauldrons, Hermione, but after we are through with this, I'm taking my free periods off for the rest of the day."

"Fine suit yourself." she promptly snapped back.

Hermione blatantly knew that something odd was buzzing around in the air of the school about this entire spattergriot business. Ron may be oblivious to it, but the more Hermonie thought about the probabilities of such a scenario happening to their friend, the more suspicious she grew.

Intuition has never failed her before so why doubt it now when she had a very bad feeling that something was horribly wrong. As Hermione flipped to the next chapter of her book she brought a hand to her head. Just why couldn't her friend live a normal life for once?

Sure, of course the gang was consistently having their lives endangered every year. It has became more like a tradition since the day they entered Hogwarts. Having faced down trolls, three headed dogs, werewolves, and evil wizards, what could possibly go wrong next? Sure, out of the three of them, Harry has been through the brunt of it all... but developing Spattergriot? Clearly Harry had a better chance being captured and killed by Lord Voldemort himself than to come down with a rare illness.

Hermione sighed with worry, she was so skeptical about this rumored illness even though it is what Professor Snape and the rest of the staff members have been saying since yesterday. However, there was no need to start counting her dragons before they hatched. It was also better first that she'd come across a textbook answer before confirming her earlier suspicions. Likewise, Ron wasn't helping the situation. Hermione watched him out of the corner of her eye as the boy lethargically flipped through the pages of his book. He then tossed it to the side as if glad to be rid of the thing and then was soon reaching out for another.

Irritated, Hermione hastily slapped his hand out of the way, and took up the book upon herself. 

"Oh stop it, Ron. Do you want to help Harry or not?"

The boy was indeed sitting up right in his chair now, much alive and very offended by the ridiculous question. With a face flushed as red as his ruby hair, Ron appeared torn by what the young witch was trying to imply.

After all, it was in a Weasley's nature to take offense when it came down to be accused about not caring about his own family, which he greatly considered Harry a large part of. He and Harry had been close ever since their first train ride to Hogwarts, so Hermione had ended up insulting then teen by asking if he really cared.

"He's my best mate, Hermione, of course I want to help!", Ron retorted angrily, "But you've heard what old Snape said yesterday...", he said taking a moment to pause before his face distorted wryly from the bizarre memory.

"Harry? Spattgroit? Like who knew?!"

"And that is precisely my point, Ron.", tentatively started Hermione, "Nobody did. Not even us."

Ron seemed to consider this, "Well it is rather odd after reading every book in this library and while going completely mad from it all...", stressed Ron particularly, " That we still have no-bloody-idea of how our mate fell ill. Doesn't that say anything about being here? Like maybe there are no records of this rare spattergroit thing because it's not that big of a deal?"

Finally Ron leaned forward in his seat, ready to challenge his comrade in order to battle his objections properly. However, Hermione's eyes remained glued to the current page of her own text, her features remained calm and lucid.

"Spattergroit, Ron, is a serious disease and is extremely rare to develop to begin with. Didn't we already talk about this? What professor Snape said just doesn't add up to what the definition says." Hermione held her book out in front of her to make her point, "Like right here for instance... there has been only three different types of the illness documented in history and neither one of them come about so instantly."

Ron frowned quizzical down at the book, "So that says what?" exclaimed Ron loudly, "Nothing! This is bloody ridiculous, Hermione!"

"You're being the ridiculous one, Ronald. This says we will continue researching until we find out if there is a fourth type of spattergroit. And seriously, would you put a sock in it before you get us both kicked out of here for good."

Predictably, coming from a pureblooded wizarding family Ron sat puzzled in his chair by the commonly used muggle term that the girl was so familiar with.

"You want me to put a sock where?"

Hermione took the time needed to let out the long lasting, flustered sigh. "Never mind... just quiet down if you would before Madam Pince overhears us. ", scolded the young witch seriously.

Ron glared daggers at the girl before flinging a hand up to smack himself on the forehead.

Sarcasm was noticeable on his freckled face, "Right. No discussion then", he concluded, "let's forget all about You-Know-Who and his Death Eater chums. We can also ignore the problem that the new 'Headmistress' is destroying Hogwarts if you want, because clearly, we should be more terrified of getting kicked out of this wonderful book palace of yours."

But Instead of brandishing the redhead for his rudeness, Hermione brought her face closer to the book she was reading until her nose was almost touching the parchment.

Ron, finishing from his tangent watched closely as the young witch skimmed the page with her pointer finger. Then all of a sudden, the lingering digit came to abrupt halt midway into the page. There they trembled slightly and stilled as if immobilized by a curse moments afterwards. For a second the brilliant young witch appeared uncertainly caught off guard.

How surprising... since when had Hermione Granger ever been startled with what a book had to say?

"Wait...", she gasp before drawing the book up from the table to bury herself into it further, "Of course!"

Ron attentively waited for an exclamation and goggled at Hermione's overly enthusiastic expression. Clearly confused and fearing that his comrade had finally cracked, Ron's eyes widened with anxiety as he spoke.

"What? What is it? What did you find?", asked Ron as he maneuvered out of his tensed position and hurled himself forward onto the table.

The young witch then looked crossed but then something had noticeably changed on her face. Hermione flashed a crooked smile, one that replaced her quizzical frown in a jiff. Seeming excited, Ron could only dwell on what discovery was just made.

"Ha! I knew it!", declared the girl confidently before slamming the book shut. Unfortunately, the noise was just enough to make Madame Pince look up from her desk, shake her head disapprovingly and give the duo fair warning to quiet down...or else.

Hermione amended a quick "Sorry" before the Liberian had the chance to get testy with her wand. Besides, she wasn't particularly found of them hanging around lately.

"Knew what?", tried Ron again whispering now. Immediately, an over ecstatic Hermione Granger leaned in to him, she was nearly about to shout had not the warning from the Liberian held it's place. From what the boy could tell, Ron could not be sure if the girl was more excited or terrified in what was about to be revealed.

"That Harry does not have Spattergroit!" And there it was. It was not what a book had to say, it was what it did not.

But not being able to fully grasp what was being said to him, Ron remained perplexed and unsure if he should regard the other Gyffindor as going completely mental.

"Huh?" , was all he could brilliantly manage to express.

Hermione fixed her friend an irritable glare as she flung open the book again. Bringing her frustration to a whole new level, the clever young witch turned to the page that gave them the answers...or rather lack of answers...to all their questions. She pointed at the paragraph in the middle of the page.

"Look! chapter four, Rare Cases of Wizarding Illnesses...Spattergroit Cases of the Unknown...."

Ron squinted down at the parchment in front of him while Hermione continued to read aloud:

"When an individual develops 'giallo spattergroita' commonly known as spattergroit and less commonly known as 'Type A yellow spattergroit disease', all implications of the illness begin to show between time frame of two to three weeks. After the second or third week all implications of the disease's are apparent in the victim, including the "yellow" pustuls that cover the body, thus how spattergroita received it's original name. The list bellow goes to show the following known cases as well as the following symptoms within the first weeks of progression of the illness...", Hermione paused suddenly and ran her fingers over the rest of the text while she showed Ron the chart on the page before she continued, "..Yellow being the most common. However, symptoms of rarer cases such as red and purple are not reported until approximately five weeks after the first diagnose of yellow."

For the first time, perhaps ever, Hermione Granger was stunned by what she read in a book...

"Ron. Do you have any idea what this means?"

The girl watched the boy's dour expression churn quickly into a ghostly pale, one worthy of Nearly Headless Nick. His voice grew tight as well, despite how composed he was trying to appear.

"Do I want to know what it means?", he croaked as he lost all color in his face.

For once, Ron didn't have to be Hermione to figure out just what that textbook was saying about Harry's supposedly "rare" case of one of the most nastiest wizarding illnesses known: the fact that it didn't really exist...or at least not until the fifth week, but that was besides the point!

The point was that Harry had supposedly came down with spattergroit over the course of the past week, a time period too short for such an illness to spring up. It had only been just a week, just one miserable week, not five! And as Ron mumbled the symptons stated on the chart for each week, Harry hadn't had any of them. There was just no way, none at all for their friend to come down with any rare case of anything.

"If Harry had spatergroit, then we would have noticed symptoms weeks ago and he can not have a rare case if he doesn't already have a known one.", Hermione stood up abruptly from her chair and brought her hands to her lips nervously, "Oh! This is no good. Harry really is in trouble."

Ron couldn't help but snort, "You do mean more trouble than he is usually in, right? Look on the bright side, Hermione, at least the blokes not sick. "

"Well excuse me for stating my concerns when you fail to open your mind to the bigger picture of what this can directly imply!"

Ron's eyebrows shot up to the top of his forehead, "Well then excuse me for trying to look on the bright side of this."

Offended, Hermione took a seat before glancing around to see if anyone was in ear shot before leaning towards her housemate. "Think about it Ron. Think hard if you would."

Ron's natural Irish skin paled into a sicklier whiter color when denial wasn't enough any more. He couldn't erase the new possibilities that their best friend could be in far worse off condition than they could ever imagine.

After all, Harry Potter was no where to be found. They could only go by what the Professors were saying.

The Professors...

"So if Harry doesn't have spattergroit, but the adults are telling us he does...", pondered the redhead carefully. Being concerned wasn't enough for him now as his eyes widened enormously in horror, "Blimey, Hermione! the teachers are fibbing?! Where's Har-"

"Shhh!" Hermione held up her pointer finger to her lips, hushing him at once, "Nobody can know about this, Ron. Please keep it down."

Ignoring the girl, Ron Weasly's voice flew up into that infamous, hysterical croaking noise, "But Hermione!", clearly he was panicking, "You can't be certain that-"

"Well I'm not, but let's not jump to conclusions yet, okay?", she said while she locked her eyes with Ron's uneasy ones to try to calm him down.

"Do you remember what happened in potions yesterday, Ron?" she asked, turning to her friend skeptically.

Ron appeared slightly amused at the question, "Well of course. The entire Potions class had seen Snape go ballistic on you after you asked him about what happened to Harry." Chuckling from the memory, Ron folded his arms nervously across his chest, anxiety was besting him.

"But that is Snape for you, I suppose.", he threw out there, trying to sound causal...trying to deny whatever Hermione was getting at.

Hermione bit her lip to disagree, her suspicions were too much to keep inside now, "Well I must say he was acting a rather bit dodgy. I've just never seen Professor Snape get worked up into such a state like that before..."

"Hermione," Ron threw up his hands flabbergasted at the lenient comment, "Were you just oblivated? This is Snape who we we are talking about. Snape! He's a Slytherin, what more can you expect? The bloke has always been a scumbag. Hell, the man is a Death Eater as well! I'm still surprise that the overgrown bat didn't suck out your blood back there."

Hermione threw a warning glare at her comrade, "Ron, you're being ridiculous. Must we go over this again?"

The boy seemed amused, "About which thing? That's Snape is a bastard or that he's really working for the enemy?"

"Professor Snape reformed years ago. He's part of the Order and he's on our side, remember? You've heard Dumbledore yourself back at the Burrow in case you have forgotten, so just drop it already!"

"Snapes a bastard out for our blood and you know it!"

Hermione literally huffed as she glared at the redhead, "Oh for merlin's sake, Ron, will you stop calling him that degrading name? He's a Professor!"

"Right", spat Ron indifferently, "And the biggest git of a Professor in all of England."

The two of them sat in silence not talking while they brooded. However both teenagers knew that getting into a row was certainly not the best way to go about figuring out how to help their friend, even if they had no clue where to go now from this point.

Still, discovering the truth was the first step, and thankfully they've gotten on top of that at last.

"Well I suppose Snape wasn't acting like his sodding self.", admitted Ron minutes later after being drained of expressing his loathing for his teacher, "But still... "

"He was reacting defensively, Ron.", countered Hermione smartly, "And whatever happened to Harry, must have set him off."

Ron looked like he was about to sicken up all over the floor, "What are you on about? Snape hates Harry more than he hates all of us Grffindors put together. Speaking of which, he took off almost a two hundred points from our house in only a week! "

Hermione seemed to consider this as Ron continued, "Face it Hermione, but Snape is a mean, old bullying bat who is sorely out for Gyfrindor blood and that is never going to change. If something serious did manage to happen to Harry out of his control, then he would be having a field day and not snapping at the entire class for-"

Then the boy paused, a terrible expression washed quickly over his features as young witch across from him narrowed her eyes.

"You were saying? The Entire class", Hermione pushed instantly.

"Well...", he went on, listlessly as his Adams apple bopped up and down his throat several times. In seconds, Hermione had jumped on his sentence without the slightest hint of mercy.

"Ron, Professor Snape threatened the Slyterins a detention after Malfoy commented about Harry's supposed 'illness'" , she tersely stated, "Don't you think that's a little odd?"

"Well, when you put it that way it is." mentioned Ron with reluctance, "But Malfoy is a nasty little ferret who finally had it coming to him. So did the rest of that lot of serpents. And it's about time too that they get their hind-ends tanned as they deserve, those prats!"

At that last statement, Hermione let out a sigh in exasperation. "I'm sure he disciplines his House as he sees fit, Ron, just how Professor McGonagal does with us.", she explained, "But that is besides the point. Since when does Professor Snape threaten Slyterin in class? something has been really off about him lately.", her eyes then filled up with determination as she stacked up her final pile of books, "And I'm going to find out just what that is."

"Hey, Every villain has his days." prompted Ron clearly out to prove his point, "And what is there left to discover other than that hes evil and out to get us?"

A rash of red throughly splotched the back of Ron's neck as he helped Hermione haul up the books. Hermione on the other hand, was ready to slap the boy upside down.

"Oh stop it already with the ridiculous labels, Professor Snape is not evil.", exclaimed Hermione, "And he is certainly not out to get anyone."

However the statement had clearly bypassed over the other boy's head as he continued to go on as if he didn't hear Hermione at all.

"I bet he cursed him... or at least poisoned him with his bloody potions." Ron shuddered at his next distorted thought, "Or on a more dreadful note, handed him off to You-Know-Who! I'll have to jinx the git's head off if that's the case...sodding Snape."

"Professor Snape...", started Hermione agitatedly, "...Is a teacher sworn to protect students, not curse them.  And for the last time, he is on our side!"

"Alright, Alright I get it, okay? So then 'hypothetically' speaking, let's just say that Snape was 'evil' and out to get us... "

The young witch rolled her eyes again, but watched intently as her friend's knuckles whiten tremendously on the stack of books he was carrying. It was either the books were a little too heavy, or he was a little too concerned.

"You don't suppose that Snape had something to do with...Harry's disappearance do you?", pushed Ron tightly.

Ron wearily waited for an answer and took note as the girl faltered beside him. Indeed Hermione was by far, the more rational thinker of the two, but something peculiar about Ron's question just couldn't be ignored. It caught her by surprise nevertheless, and how in ways had made her uncertain and irked.

"Ron. Clearly he's a Professor, he would never harm a student..." but it so happened that another voice inside of her was arguing otherwise, "...not intentionally at least."

"Ah Ha! So you consider it a possibility then?", asked Ron eagerly as Hermione shot him a cold look, "Hey now, you said it yourself that Snapes been acting rather dodgey this past week. How do you know that the slimly bastard didn't...that he didn't actually hex Harry and hauled him off to one of those Death Eater meetings?!"

Ron's chest was not only aching but also heaving greatly as he hauled the remaining books up onto madam Pince's desk. There he left them and stormed off towards the exit, thinking so erratically that he was basically considering to find the snarky Potions Professor himself and give him a taste of his own medicine. Hermione, though, quick to catch up with his pace, was at the redhead's side in seconds. With no time wasted, the girl placed a reassuring hand on top of her friend's shoulder to keep him from running off. Her voice was noticeably softer as she spoke .

"Remember in first year when he countered Quarrels jinx on Harry's broom? And in third year when he tried to save us all from Lupin after he turned Werewolf in the shrieking shack? Surely those are not the deeds of a Death Eater." encouraged Hermione as the hand she placed on her friend gently rubbed up and down his shoulder. Ron blinked down in surprise at her caressing hands, his face flushed a rosy pink before the girl took notice and took her hand away.

"Well yeah I suppose they are not...", mumbled Ron as he and the girl awkwardly left the library together and proceeded to descend swiftly down the moving staircases.

"But C'mon Mione. This is recent stuff, Harry didn't show after Occumency lessons last week. How odd for the bloke to get sick after an encounter with Snape.", spat Ron as if he had come across something that smelled rotten, "Even though I probably would."

Hermione remained open minded, "But we can not be certain that he is even ill or hurt to begin with, Ron. Perhaps Harry was sent to Dumbledore for more Occumency training and that we, the teachers, Umbridge, the Ministry of Magic, and anyone else for the matter are not suppose to have knowledge of."

Ron shook his head, "Well Hermione I was just saying Snape could of-"

"I know what you are saying." Hermione replied, making sure to look Ron directly in the eyes.

"You're concerned. We both are, but this is not how we should be going about the situation. Now it comes down to that we need more proof, more facts."

"But what more proof do we need? Harry is not sick with spattergroit, the teachers are all lieing to us, and Snape could've already hexed Harry to next Friday for all we know. What is there left to prove when our mate is locked up in the infirmary?"

And just like that, a light bulb lit up inside Hermione's head and her powerful brain which she was notoriously known for began formulating a plan.

"That he's not in the infirmary." she said as her eyes grew as wide as her grin.

Ron turned to her questioningly, "What?"

Then suddenly, that particular grin swizzled into that all-time, infamous Gyrffindor one full of mischievous intention that only those of their House could pull off. Ron was momentarily stunned by this as Hermione Granger walzed right into the Great Hall without hesitation.

"Oh this is going to to be good" He said to himself as his smile soon matched her own, "Hermione Granger, mastermind of Gyrffindor, you have to let me on this one."

At this she turned to him, "Well are you up to a little repeat of rule breaking from our second year or not?"