The first Quidditch match of the season was Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin because the Carrows seemed to believe that there wasn’t enough hatred and animosity between those two houses. This presented the perfect opportunity for the Gryffindor and Hufflpuff members of the DA to hold a meeting.
“Seamus says it should be somewhere in the Castle, but Ginny suggested the Forbidden Forest and Neville thinks that might be easier…” Susan said in the Hufflepuff common room a week before the match.
“Won’t work,” Ernie said, “I’ve seen Snape go into the Forest too often and I’ll be anything he’ll sneak off there the evening of the match.”
“We could meet in an unused classroom,” Susan suggested. “We’re all getting very good at those Muffliato spells and Seamus found a good protective charm we could use on the doors and windows to make sure we’re not spied on.”
“Might be our best option,” Ernie agreed.
“What about here?” Hannah finally got the words out.
Ernie raised an eyebrow. “In our Common Room? Even if I wanted to give a bunch of Gryffindors access to our common room there’s a big chance that a younger student, or even Professor Sprout, might see them.”
“Well,” Susan said, “Professor Sprout is changing the password in a couple of weeks so they wouldn’t really have access to the common room for long. But Ernie’s right, we could get caught. I wish Filch would stop watching the room of requirement already!”
Hannah swallowed, but she pushed on. “We could do it in there…” she couldn’t bring herself to give it a name, but Ernie and Susan both understood what she was referring to.
The place was ideal. It had remained secret for thousands of years and even now Hannah seemed to be the only one who could open it. All four heads of house – along with Snape and the Carrows – had tried unsuccessfully, several times. In the end, the Carrows had punished Ernie and Hannah for “lying” and everyone except the Hufflepuff students had moved on as if it didn’t exist.
“Are you sure you can open it again, Hannah?” Susan said gently, echoing Hannah’s thoughts. “I mean you opened it that once, but after you and Ernie closed it no one seems able to re-open it.”
Hannah walked over and stood facing the blank stretch of wall. She placed both hands on it, silencing Ernie’s small protest of ‘you left your wand here’ and closing her eyes. She focused on the memory from that summer, on the emptiness and anger she had felt after the Death Eater attack.
A resounding click filled the common room and many heads turned, but Hannah quickly pushed it shut again.
So Susan passed the word to the Gryffindors and entrusted the common room password to Seamus, who would lead them in on the day of the match. While the rest of the school awaited the match with rising anticipation, the members of the DA felt a new sense of purpose as they planned for their first meeting in months.
On the morning of the match the Carrows gleefully announced that the members of the winning team would be allowed to set one service (or punishment) that the losing side would have to perform for them. Several Ravenclaws turned green, especially when it was announced that a few of the regular Quidditch rules had been waived and that Amycus Carrow would be refereeing.
Suddenly, everyone’s excitement seemed to deflate into a tired, edgy fear. Ginny Weasley was given another week’s worth of detentions with Snape for using a Stinging Hex on Goyle. “Which you will serve after you watch Slytherin destroy Ravenclaw in the Quidditch Pitch,” he said with a sneer.
Hannah almost suggested that they call off the meeting. She felt that to skip the match under these conditions would be abandoning their Ravenclaw friends. Colin Creevy’s obsession with Muggle contraptions saved the day. He came into the Great Hall panting, bade Professor Snape a very enthusiastic and cheerful “good morning” and ran right past him to the center of the Gryffindor table, where Neville, Seamus, and several others immediately crowded around him. Ginny continued to glare at Snape’s retreating back for a while but even she succumbed to her curiosity. Susan put down a half-finished piece of toast and walked over, giving Seamus’ arm an affectionate squeeze.
“What do you think it is?” Ernie said back at the Hufflepuff table. He had never been the most patient person and if it hadn’t been for the Carrows watching from the head table he would have been over there taking a look.
Susan eventually bounced over to their table with a wide smile on her face. “He’s brilliant!” she breathed. “He’s been working on it for days, maybe weeks, and he had to do a good bit of advanced spellwork to get it to work…”
“What?” Ernie said impatiently, “Get what to work?”
Susan dropped her voice to a whisper and explained. “He’s bewitched this Muggle tracking device and hidden one piece in the commentator’s booth on the pitch and he kept the other piece. We can hear what’s happening in the commentator’s booth – Madam Hooch and McGonagall were in there setting up and we heard their entire conversation!”
After the Gryffindors had been snuck into the common room and through the secret passage to the Founder’s cottage they all spent the first few minutes listening to the commentary. From the sounds of it, it had quickly turned into the most brutal game in Hogwarts History and Amycus was doing nothing to prevent injury. Luna, who was not on the Quidditch team and had come along with Ginny, brought them all back to the matter at hand by wondering loudly if Quidditch was on the meeting agenda.
Colin reluctantly turned the volume down a little and Neville cleared his throat.
“No,” Neville said. “The most important thing is that we need to find a way to stop getting caught on our rounds. Ginny’s been in detention so often she hasn’t done a round in months and the Patil twins looked half-dead after Alecto caught them on Tuesday. Even Ernie had a close call the other day…”
“We need a map,” Ginny said, “and since Harry’s not going to show up anytime soon and give us the one he’s got we need to make our own.” Hannah felt bitterness in the Gryffindor girl’s voice, but it was mixed with determination. Ginny had brought along several books about Hogwarts and a few on magical mapping techniques.
“Is Hannah going to teach us how to do maps the way she did it when we tried stealing the sword?” Luna asked cheerfully.
Several heads turned towards Hannah. Colin and Seamus were poking around through the Founder’s things looking for old maps of the castle. Hannah glanced nervously towards the door of Helga’s room, which she had locked earlier, and nodded slowly.
“I’ll try…”
…
The baby’s face relaxed into a beautiful smile and Celeste tucked the blanket around him gently. When she was sure he was asleep she turned to the window to make sure it was locked. She paused for a few moments and then pulled the small bracelet off her wrist. It had been made out of the most haphazard collection of little odds and ends, and after two years of being worn everyday it looked a little beat up, but it was the most powerful thing Celeste owned. Inside this object was all the love that the little ones felt towards her, all the loneliness and confusion that was part of their lives as orphans, and she hoped that this would be enough to make her magic work since she had no way of acquiring a wand – not now. A colorful pamphlet from the Ministry of Magic had come with Remus’ last letter. It was all about how Muggle-born witches and wizards stole their magic from Purebloods. She shook her head and focused back on the charm, pointing it towards the window and breathing the spell, “Alohomora!”
That, she knew, would not keep them out. She had to learn better spells. Celeste had made a firm decision to live her life as a Muggle, but the world was different now. She had a responsibility to protect this orphanage. She had to do everything she could to keep the helpless little children safe from the chaos that had gripped their world.
She turned out the lights and blew little Thomas, who was still awake, a last kiss before heading to her own room.
Remus’ last letter still lay on top of the pile in her drawer. She knew she should burn the letters. She picked up the latest one, which had arrived in a normal looking envelope with all the rest of the post. Celeste held it up to her table lamp. Remus had said to send any new letters to a Muggle Address that he, or someone he trusted, would check regularly. He said that all Owl post was being closely monitored now and any owls coming in and out of the Orphanage would arouse suspicion. He had also asked that she call him Richard in her letters from now on.
She pulled out a sheet of paper and began,
Dear Richard,
Thank you very much for the books you sent me last time. They were a great help in my latest Social Work Theory exam and I feel much more confident about the legal portions of my two upcoming exams.
I wanted to invite you over for a visit sometime next week. It would mean a lot to me if you could help me in person as I prepare for the tests that are coming up for me in the future.
Please feel free to drop by any time that is convenient for you, you know my schedule.
Yours truly,
Celeste
She squinted at it for several minutes and decided that it was vague enough not to give anything important away. However, the main point was clear: she needed him to come help her with some of the more complicated spells. She needed to be able to defend the only home and family that she had ever known.
…
Blaise was muddy and tired and in a very bad mood. The bloody match had lasted the entire weekend, and now he only had a few precious hours of it left, most of which he would be forced to spend partaking in the Ravenclaws’ ‘punishment’. Seeing the empty hallways Blaise made an impulsive decision to go to the Hospital Wing before making an appearance in the Great Hall. He cast a quick cleaning charm on his boots and then tapped his wand to his head to disillusion himself.
Pansy’s mother was still by her bedside as she had been for the past three days, so Blaise stayed outside. He did not want to be seen visiting the girl. She was awake now and speaking softly with her mother. She looked broken, and confused. She was, however, alive, and the Dark Lord had been pleased with her ‘punishment’ under Theo’s hands, which proved that the letter from Draco had been a trap.
He shook his head and turned back down the corridor, wondering if he would have time to take a shower before going to the Great Hall for dinner. Suddenly, he bumped into someone and took a few steps back. Hannah Abbott had fallen to the ground and she was staring directly at him.
He looked down at his hands to find that the disillusionment charm had worn off. Or perhaps the Hufflepuff girl’s magic had interfered with it.
He silently offered her a hand up, which she completely ignored. After Pansy’s accident it had been impossible for him to get a word with her or pair up with her, or any other girl, in Dark Arts classes. In fact, Ernie McMillan and Zacharias Smith had kept both Theo and Blaise on their toes with some pretty impressive spellwork in Dark Arts lessons. It had been refreshing – at first.
Hannah Abbott began to walk away, but Blaise made sure that he fell into step with her. He had to appear to at least be trying to fulfill his mission for the Dark Lord and this was the perfect opportunity. She broke the silence when they were on the steps between the fifth and fourth floors.
“What your friend did to her was terrible.”
“What makes you think that Theodore Nott is my friend?” Blaise asked calmly.
She raised an eyebrow, but Blaise did not offer anything more. Finally, they were in the Entrance Hall and she stopped, eyeing him thoughtfully.
“You should try flying,” Blaise offered as loud cheering and jeering floated out from the Great Hall, “or gardening if you like Herbology. To control it, you know.”
“Is it that obvious?” she whispered.
“Even Goyle is afraid,” Blaise laughed truthfully. “Give it a try. I’m not going to waste my time trying to prove that you should trust me, or anything, it’s just a sugges-”
Hannah grinned up at him. “I’m a Hufflepuff, remember? We don’t have that much trouble accepting that sometimes people can just be nice.”
Blaise pulled back, allowing her to enter the Great Hall alone before him. He waved his wand at himself and cast the best cleaning spell he knew. It would have to do for now. He found that Theo had already changed into some comfortable looking casual robes, his hair looking a little damp and his face very alert.
“Where were you?” Crabbe jeered loudly, “All this time and you didn’t even manage to take a shower?”
“We were just about to decide on those filthy Ravenclaws’ punishment,” Goyle said with a delighted smirk on his face.
Blaise swallowed and looked around the Great Hall. The Ravenclaws looked half frightened and half mutinous. Cho Chang looked particularly desolate – the girl was weepy at the best of times, now she would be feeling guilty for letting Blaise catch the Snitch before her. Beside her a fourth year Ravenclaw chaser was sporting a pair of ugly horns that Madam Pomfrey had not been allowed to remove and the keeper had casts on both his arms.
The fiery-tempered Weasley girl caught his attention from the Gryffindor table. He could see the curses and hexes forming in her mind as she fingered her wand, but even she knew it would be stupid to do anything now. Snape was, as always, glaring down at the Gryffindor table.
“I think we should make them clean out our dormitories and do all the rest of the house-elf work for the next couple of days,” Goyle was saying. “Who wouldn’t want Chang-”
“Shut up Goyle!” Blaise hissed loudly. Several heads had turned to him now. “I caught the snitch and I’m captain this year, so I’ll be deciding on their punishment.”
Goyle’s face alternated between purple and red for a while, and he whipped out his wand, but Blaise ignored him and stood up. “Sonorus,” he said pointing his wand at his own throat.
Several eyes had turned to him now, and he could feel Weasley’s death glares. He cleared his throat, thinking fast. “As Slytherin seeker and captain,” he announced to the hall, “I would like to pass on the Slytherin Quidditch team’s decision regarding the Ravenclaw team’s punishment for their abysmal performance today.”
He waited for the jeers to die down before continuing. “They will each spend the next three days as Ghouls. I would be happy to do the honors of performing the transfigurations myself.”
Laughter could be heard all along the Slytherin table and Weasley was now glaring at him as if her worst fears had been confirmed. He forced his eyes away from her angry red face and to the head table. McGonagall was standing and speaking angrily. Snape was smiling lazily from his seat. The Carrows seemed to be delighted with this and they had both taken out their wands to perform the trick.
“I don’t think so,” Snape’s magically magnified voice cut through the commotion. “Mr. Zabini will perform the transfigurations on all but the most severely injured of the Ravenclaw players. You may begin, Mr. Zabini.”
Blaise walked slowly to the front of the room near the head table and beckoned the Ravenclaws over. He pretended to be relishing their humiliation and pain as, one by one, they walked over to accept their punishment. All he wanted now was sleep, but he couldn’t rush this.
He was quite good at Transfiguration and he added a couple of extra touches, giving Chang a large, smelly wart on her forehead and ensuring that the scratch along the beater’s arm was oozing a disgusting puss. When he was finished he stood aside and watched Snape perform the final transfiguration and then he headed straight to his room, floating a pitcher of pumpkin juice and half a pie before him.
Theo knocked on his door while Blaise was halfway through the pie. Blaise waved his wand to let the other boy in and gestured towards the pie and the juice, summoning a cup for Theo.
“How is she?” Theo asked, ignoring the food.
“She’s all right, Theo, better than she would have been. I think she’s a little confused, but I saw her awake and talking to her mother.”
Theo nodded and picked at his piece of pie. Blaise knew he had something to say, but decided it was better to let him do it in his own time. The usual calming presence wasn’t there; his friend was clearly agitated.
“I can’t do it for much longer, Blaise. Until when are we going to stay here, modifying people’s memories to make ourselves look vicious and making up inventive punishments so Goyle’s twisted brand of fun won’t be unleashed on people?”
Blaise pushed away the rest of his pie and shook his head, suddenly not very hungry. Theo’s admission echoed the rising panic that was within him. Every day he was feeling more and more trapped, less and less his own man.
“We’re trapped, Theo. How do you take what we are now and turn it into something that’s just us. I don’t even remember what I used to dream of becoming when I graduated Hogwarts… I just want to survive, to get through this.”
“Who do you reckon is more cornered and trapped now,” Theo tried to joke, “us or Ginny Weasley.”
Blaise turned away trying to ignore the memory of Ginny Weasley glaring at him across the hall.
“Here,” Theo said, fishing a couple of small books out of his pocket and throwing them to Blaise. “Read this, learn the spells, and start dreaming the future again.”
Blaise looked down at the books in his hand. They were Spell Invention: Notable Names and A Guide to the Healing Arts.
