"Sir, you saw it yourself. The British astronauts broadcast the whole thing live on every major television channel. We watched a recording of the broadcast. The experts are unanimous: with our present level of technology, something like this is impossible."
"But they just flew from Earth to Mars in four hours."
"Yes, sir," the Major confirmed.
"And the experts say that's impossible..."
"Not exactly, sir. The experts say it's possible only in theory."
The General gestured at the television and objected:
"But the Limeys are flying from Earth to Mars faster than I can get from Washington to Chicago. How?!"
"We don't know yet, sir. All we know is that it's a privately owned spacecraft."
"PRIVATE?!" The General's right eyelid began to twitch.
"Considering that the company belongs to the underage heir to the Duke of Westminster, calling it a private company is arguably something of a technicality..."
"We need to report this to the President..."
***
Russia. Moscow. Headquarters of the Main Intelligence Directorate.
"Comrade General, you need to see this..."
***
After Divination, the boys went their separate ways. Ron and Harry headed off to their Care of Magical Creatures lesson, while Richard hurried towards the Arithmancy classroom.
On the way, Grosvenor ran into Padma Patil and Michael Corner.
"Hi, Richie," Michael said, waving.
"Good afternoon, Michael, Padma," Richard replied politely. "You've signed up for Arithmancy too?"
"Yeah, and Ancient Runes," Padma confirmed. "What about you, Richie?"
"Divination and Arithmancy."
"Richie, how could you choose Divination?" Padma asked in surprise. "Surely you don't believe in that nonsense like my sister does?"
"Padma, you may be surprised, but I do," Richard replied. "You should have seen Professor Trelawney. She made several predictions right in front of us. How could I not believe after that?"
Privately, he thought:
Besides, I've used information about the future myself to develop my business.
"Richie, I'm surprised," Padma said quietly. "Of all people, I never expected that from you."
Before long, they reached the classroom they were looking for. Michael tried the handle and was surprised to discover that the door was unlocked. The three pupils decided to go inside.
Upon entering the classroom, they saw rows of old, darkened wooden desks ahead of them. An ordinary black school board hung on the opposite wall. To the right of the board was a door leading into the teacher's office. Large windows lined the left-hand wall, while on the right stood tall bookcases and several posters displaying quotations from Pythagoras and useful information for beginners in Arithmancy. The floor was made of wooden boards whose creaking could alert the teacher to any latecomer attempting to sneak quietly to their desk.
"Looks like there aren't going to be many of us in this class," Michael observed, taking in the emptiness of the room.
"Hermione signed up for Arithmancy too," Richard remarked. "But she's fallen ill, so she won't start attending lessons until next week."
The door creaked behind them. Padma turned round and remarked:
"Richie, looks like your girlfriend's been discharged."
"What do you mean?"
Surprised, Richard turned round. He frowned when he saw a breathless Hermione stumble into the classroom.
There was something strange about Granger. Richard noted that, although she looked dishevelled, she nevertheless looked far too healthy: rosy cheeks, a light tan instead of pale skin, and no dark circles beneath her eyes. He also found it odd that Hermione was wearing ordinary girls' shoes rather than, as usual, the footwear from the ninja suit she had scarcely ever been without since the middle of first year.
His keen gaze picked out other differences as well: no pink glasses, no AI on her wrist and, most importantly, the bag. Granger always carried a small handbag fitted with an Extension Charm, but now she was lugging a heavy, bulging satchel over one shoulder—the very same one in which she had carried her textbooks before receiving Richie's gift.
Ignoring everyone around her, Hermione barrelled towards the front desk like a steam engine. She greeted no one, not even Richard. More than that, she walked straight past Grosvenor as though she had never met him in her life.
Richard visibly tensed and adjusted his grip on his cane. His face expressionless, he casually made his way over to Granger's desk and addressed her calmly:
"Good afternoon, Miss Granger."
Hermione stared at Richard as though a stool had suddenly started talking to her.
"Good afternoon..." she drawled coldly, as though speaking to a complete stranger.
Padma frowned, unable to understand what was going on. She walked over to the front desk and took up position beside Richard, on his left.
Grosvenor likewise couldn't make head or tail of what was happening. He had several theories. The first was that Hermione had been replaced, and the person in front of him was either someone under the effects of Polyjuice Potion or a Metamorphmagus. The second was that Hermione had been brainwashed and had her memory erased.
Both possibilities were horrifying.
Of course, there was still a third option—that Hermione was upset with Richard for some reason and had decided to pretend they didn't know each other, or that she was trying to play a prank on him. But Richie couldn't believe anything so absurd. From what he had come to know of Granger, she wasn't given to practical jokes, and he hadn't had time to do anything that might have offended her.
"Are you all right?" Richard asked with mild concern.
Granger pursed her lips and said indignantly:
"Whose bright idea was it to change the timetable?"
"What do you mean?" Padma asked in surprise. "Everything seems fine to me."
Michael couldn't have cared less about any of them. He calmly laid out his writing materials and textbooks on his desk, paying no attention whatsoever to his classmates' conversation.
(End of Chapter)
P@treon: /SadRaven
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