The Notebook
The feast was hell on earth. He hated to put it in such a silly, ineloquent way, but Blaise could find no other way to express his disgust and he knew that the rest of the year would be exactly the same.
There were about ten Slytherins on the table and it was very, very clear that everyone, including most of the Professors, did not think they should be in Hogwarts at all. Blaise realized then how much he hated being seen and scrutinized. Hogwarts this year would be a courtroom and every Slytherin would be on trial. He would taste what Draco lived last year and he wasn’t sure he could handle it as well as the other boy who was used to being on show and under scrutiny.
As soon as the thought of Draco came to him he remembered Quidditch and he wondered how he would like flying, because it was clear that if they were still allowed a Quidditch team he would be forced to play.
The hat was screaming “Fenwick, Mark!” when he noticed the littlest Weasel. She had a determined and rather frightening glint in her eye as if she was going to battle and he wondered if her research had come to anything.
“Silence!” McGonagall was another one of the Gryffindors on the warpath. But it was a good way to assert her presence and her position. It was difficult for anyone to fill Dumbledore’s place and she would have a hard time keeping the students sane and safe at the same time.
“This year the Wizarding world is at war and we at Hogwarts must do everything we can to remain united and strong in the face of all outside pressures,” Blaise smiled to himself thinking of the many little skirmishes she must have had with the ministry since Dumbledore’s death.
“There are many changes taking place within Hogwarts, but we must all try to adjust as quickly as possible. The new career training program for sixth and seventh years, which begins after exactly four weeks, will take place in the evenings and there will be no Hogsmeade trips until further notice.”
“Mr. Filch would like me to remind you that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all students and I will add that any student found out of bounds will be severely punished.”
There was a long silence and Blaise wondered if that really was the best way to go about things. Under Dumbledore the school and the students had been relatively sheltered from all outside events and problems, but it seemed that McGonagall either didn’t like it or she didn’t think it was possible anymore.
“Enough of that, though,” the Headmistress continued, “We will have plenty of time to get used to the new situation once term begins. For now, tuck in.”
The plates filled with food and the students relaxed considerably. Blaise began to eat, but he couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering back and forth across the hall. The sight of food wasn’t enough to calm the professors who all seemed to be sitting on tenterhooks waiting for something to happen. It was then that Blaise missed the DADA professor. He couldn’t see anyone aside from the regular professors and a few Aurors that were in deep conversation with McGonagall.
Without an announcement Blaise had no idea what McGonagall had in store. It must have been a very hard task for her and he had a suspicion that he might just not see DADA on the schedule this year.
He left as quickly as he possibly could without causing some ‘curiosity’. The group of little Huflepuff second years that were leaving at the same time were like angels in his eyes at that moment, but he could still sense the many watching eyes that would be following him for the rest of the year.
Blaise unpacked and organized his things as soon as he got to his dormitory. He realized then that he had the room all to himself. Blaise was sure he had seen at least two of the sixth years and a few fifth years, but none of the seventh years were there. He would enjoy the privacy for now and think about the extra eyes that would watch him later.
He transfigured the other beds into a desk and chair, a comfortable couch, and a large painting of a black horse. The last one was difficult and he felt slightly drained all of a sudden, so he lay down on his bed and took out his notebook.
Celeste had written to him already. It was a short little synopsis of her day, very boring, but reassuring and calming at the same time. It was a little late and his head was about as big as a Hippogryff so he decided to be concise and just made sure to let her know that he was safe in Hogwarts.
The Weasel’s letter came first thing in the morning. She had done her homework and the letter was a very interesting start to his day.
Dearest Bigheaded Git,
First of all, I’m used to being polite so I’ll thank you for the idea of Healer Training. It worked like a charm, and now I’m back at Hogwarts. I can’t wait to get into the restricted section like I’ve seen the blasted trio do so many times. The Library at Headquarters was rather interesting, but I couldn’t get anything from the meetings since I wasn’t allowed in and they seem to have figured out some sort of charm to block all forms of eavesdropping.
Wait, I also wanted to tell you that I already know my experience with Riddle was part of his immortality schemes. I may not be part of Harry’s closest group, but I do hear a lot of things and I have figured out much of what was going on and what they were up to, a lot more than what gets around anyway.
Now, if we’re to trade information like you say then I have a couple of rules of my own. It’s rather clear that you’re not going to tell me your name or arrange a meeting anytime soon, and I really don’t care, but I want to know your motives for wanting this. You’d better not be bleeding Severus Snape or I will personally find you and shred you to pieces. That done, I think we can move and start seriously doing some research and sharing information. I think my own motives are clear enough, and you seem to know me so well already, so I’ll save myself the ink.
He smiled to himself and wrote a short and very honest reply before heading down to breakfast.
I found myself stuck in the middle of a war that I had no hand in starting, so I want to know whatever I can about why I’m losing grasp of everything I ever knew. That good enough for you Weasel?
He re-read it a couple of times, and though he was a little unhappy with how whiny it sounded he sent it off like that in the end. Honesty and vagueness combined were always the best way to go.
The schedules came at breakfast and he realized they had DADA first thing in the morning followed by Herbology and then Transfiguration after lunch. He ate a short breakfast and then took out his notebook to check for a note from Celeste.
If he was surprised by the lack of an announcement about a DADA Professor, the class itself was much more surprising. Apparently McGonagall had resolved to take matters into her own hands and teach the subject herself. Or she was just defying the curse. He wondered, grimly, what would happen to her at the end of the year and whether she would be able to go back to Transfiguration, at least, or not.
Once all the students were inside the door swung closed and she stood up. “As you can see,” she said, “I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor this year.”
A short silence filled the room as all the students waited for the upcoming speech. Blaise wondered if she would be using books much, as that was now the classification used for DADA professors; whether they used the practical, or book approach.
“By the end of this year you will all pursue your careers, but more importantly, you will be forced to protect those you love against the forces of the Dark Lord. Perhaps you have begun to take on this role already, as many of your absent classmates are doing this very day. And it is my responsibility to prepare you for this.”
Blaise allowed himself a small smile. Practical then, he thought, and she seemed to know what she was about too. This class might actually be very useful this year.
“Defense Against the Dark Arts,” she continued, “Is not about reading from a book or fighting because you want glory and respect in the Wizarding World. It is about defending yourself and others because you have no other choice. It is about making quick decisions and speedy escapes. It is also about studying your enemy’s strategy and trying to be one step ahead.”
If she went any further she’d ask them openly to be part of the Order of the Pheonix. Or maybe that was coming later in the year. Blaise could see wide grins on some his classmates’ faces and a grim sort of respect on others.
“Are there any questions before I move onto a more detailed outline of what we will be doing this year?”
Several hands shot up immediately and McGonagall nodded to Ernie McMillan.
“Who will be taking transfiguration, Professor?” Several other hands went down at this.
“Don’t worry, Mr. McMillan, I will concentrate my full attention to this class and someone else, whom you will undoubtedly meet this afternoon, will be taking Transfiguration. Miss Patil.”
“Thank you, Professor, will we be taking all of our classes with all the houses this year or just DADA?”
“Unfortunately there are very few seventh years this year, Miss Patil, and so you will be taking your classes together. This is also an excellent opportunity for you all to get to know each other. The fourth, fifth and sixth years are very large groups, so they will be the only years following the old method of two houses per class.”
It seemed that there were no more questions so McGonagall continued with her speech, “This year your books will not be brought to class. Together we will study several of Voldemort’s,” she paused for the collective gasp, “Tactics and his follower’s attack methods and you will be allowed to look up any spells or curses you think might be useful as defense methods outside of class. In class we will practice these spells and discuss them.”
“Professor,” Thomas burst out, “Can you tell us what Harry, Ron and Hermione are up to and why they aren’t here?”
“I would have thought you already guessed that Mr. Thomas,” she didn’t seem at all inclined to discuss Potter right now, “They are fighting Voldemort.”
A long tense silence followed and it was clear none of the students were satisfied with this answer. “We will dedicate a class period to discussing Mr. Potter’s decisions, but it will not be this one.”
“Thank you, Professor,” Dean nodded.
“Good,” McGonagall said, “Now I have a question we can spend the rest of the class discussing: What is the most useful curse or spell in Defense Against the Dark Arts?”
Herbology was just what he had expected. A brief introduction by Sprout in which she warned them about how much time they would need to spend on NEWTS followed by a long hour of muddy labor. Blaise enjoyed the hour because it left him no time to spare for worrying about anything but the poisonous plant before him.
He resisted the urge to grab a plate and leave the hall at lunch. It would be too suspicious this early on in the year, so he ate as quickly as possible without destroying the taste of the food and then headed out to the grounds and found himself a secluded corner. It was a good thing because about five seconds later an owl swooped down on him bearing a letter with only one word on it. Yes.
He smiled to himself and took out his notebook. Celeste was sure to be free at this time and he would make sure that this thing worked the way he wanted it to.
About five minutes later, as he was poring over the notebook in the middle of a rather pointless conversation with his sister, he was interrupted by none other than the Weasel herself. She was out of breath.
“Did you see an owl fly past?” she asked him, “Little thing wi…”
“No, Weasel,” he said with an inward smile. It was a nice try, but he would make sure she didn’t figure out his identity anytime soon. He pretended he didn’t notice she was there and made the biggest mistake of his Hogwarts career by going back to his conversation with Celeste.
The Weasel left soon, but her face had paled considerably and she sent a rather haunted look at the notebook.
