She should not have been able to get past the protective enchantments, but nothing stood in Hannah’s way that night. She let the grief she had been trying to suppress for so long escape in one last chaotic outburst of magic. The enchantments around Hogwarts bent under her hands like clay.
She sent a stream of dancing Patronuses at the looming figures of the Dementors. They were vivid silvery images of her father and her mother, of little cousins and big decorated cakes, of Ernie and Susan and Zach laughing.
All of them were laughing.
A screeching noise erupted as soon as she stepped into the streets of Hogsmeade, but she silenced it with a decisive movement of her right hand. She passed through the all-wizard village with her hood pulled down as far as it would go over her face. A chill traveled through the village as she passed, as if she was a ghost.
Hannah paused on the other side of Hogsmeade and a swirling storm of magical power engulfed her and then, suddenly, fell at her feet and dissipated. She let her hands fall to her sides.
…as long as you are in the Wizarding World
Hannah Abbott took a deep breath and stepped out of the magical village and out of the Wizarding world that she had known all her life. She walked and walked, not lifting her wand to summon warmer clothes or food or to Apparate. Even if she succeeded in controlling her outbursts and developing her new powers she would never be free of the terrible potential, of the greed and hunger in the eyes of the people around her. So Hannah had decided to leave that world behind. She would never use magic again.
…
Ginny had finally escaped the Common Room and Seamus and Neville’s pointless discussion about where the DA could meet next. In only one day she would be aboard the Hogwarts express. In no time at all she would be headed for the Burrow where she would be faced every second with reminders that everyone else in her family was doing something important – everyone except her.
It was not her night to patrol the corridors, but she did her familiar rounds anyway, meeting a red-faced Ernie MacMillan on the fourth floor. It wasn’t his night to patrol either.
“You ok, MacMillan?”
“Yeah,” he said shortly. “Fine. You?”
“Just needed to do some thinking,” Ginny replied. He nodded again and they went their separate ways, leaving a slightly awkward atmosphere.
Ginny finished one quick round and, finding nothing, headed for the Library. She hated research. The smell of books and the quiet of a library might be attractive to people like Hermione Granger, but to Ginny the smell of a muddy Quidditch pitch and the noise and commotion of a cramped Weasley-filled room were much more comfortable. She wondered what a battlefield would smell like. She wondered if the same fiery rush of energy that took hold of her on the Pitch would fill her veins in a battlefield.
She cast a chameleon charm on herself before stepping into the Library, but she was too lost in thought to notice much of what was going on around her. The Library was closed, but she was aware of various students sneaking around in there looking for books in the restricted section or meeting someone in secret. She passed by a darkened aisle, brushing against another disillusioned someone whose smell simultaneously angered and intrigued her.
Grabbing several books off a shelf about famous wizards Ginny sat down and began her search. “R.A.B.” she muttered under her breath, “who are you?” She would not have admitted it even to herself this time last year, but Harry, Ron and Hermione were quite hopeless when it came to figuring things out. They were probably still stumbling about trying to find this R.A.B. – unless something else had distracted them from the search altogether. If she knew more about why they were looking for this person she could have found them more easily, but the Trio had been surprisingly good at keeping their plans secret.
She came across a likely paragraph about a Rupert Archimedes Blackwood. Bloody Ron! She still couldn’t believe he had come up with the whole Ghoul deception and managed to keep it a secret from her. Apparently this Rupert Blackwood had invented a hex that made the victim see swarms of insects attacking them. She wrote down the incantation and wand movements and moved on, looking for another likely R.A.B.
…
The carriages to Hogsmeade station were about to depart. Zach paced the common room, his eyes fixed on the doorway to the girls’ dormitories. Hannah would come out soon and she would have a bemused expression on her face, wondering why they had been worried, and it would be alright. Ernie was tapping his left foot in the most annoying off-beat fashion possible. It was as if he was trying to provoke Zach into shouting at him.
The doors opened and a swarm of third year girls rushed out followed by Susan. Alone. Ernie took a few expectant steps towards her, but Susan shook her head. Zach dropped the book he had been holding and rushed towards her. They hadn’t spoken in months, and Susan looked a little frightened as he bore down on her, but he didn’t care.
“Where is she?” he demanded, sounding even more angry and accusing than he felt.
“I don’t know,” Susan said desperately. “I haven’t seen her since…”
She broke off, looking at Ernie. The bloody git had crossed the line yesterday, shouting at Hannah like a deranged, jealous fool.
“Go get Sprout,” Zach said evenly, “now.”
Susan and Ernie both rushed off to Sprout’s office and nearly broke the door down with their knocking. Their Head of House finally emerged looking tired and disgruntled.
“What is it? Why are you two still here?”
“Hannah’s missing!” Susan’s voice was shrill and frightened. “No one’s seen her since yesterday evening… she didn’t sleep in the dormitory.”
A wide-eyed look of horror crossed the professor’s face. She seemed to be frozen in place for an agonizing few seconds and then, suddenly, she sprang into action, sending silvery orbs out of the tip of her wand as she demanded an explanation from Ernie and Susan. She turned the dormitories upside down with her spells and then rushed out of the common room, Susan and Ernie on her heels. Zach pulled out his wand and followed.
…
“What if we could do it?” Blaise said. Unlike Theo he could not keep the swirling mass of spells and dreams and magical theories inside his head. He needed to say things out loud in order to make sense of them, but that was extremely dangerous so he did not say any more.
He rested his forehead against the cool glass of the window. The Hogwarts express was speeding along south through the snow-covered world. He wondered if his mother would notice something different in him. She had probably heard about the things that had happened at Hogwarts, and he wondered what she would make of them, what she would read into the rumors.
“Blaise…?” Theo’s voice was almost inaudible over the chugging noises of the speeding train. “We’re going to be forced to do something, and very soon, whether we’re ready or not.”
Blaise nodded. They had to be ready. Soon enough the meager spy work they did at Hogwarts would not be enough. The Dark Lord would order them to perform horrific things, to torture and kill. Blaise may have had no choice but to take the Dark Mark last summer, but now he realized that he had to make choices for himself where they did not exist.
If only he could make sure that his mother would be safe – if he could find some way of ensuring that she would not be harmed, Blaise felt that he could do anything. It wouldn’t matter to him then if the rest of his plans failed, if he died or was tortured within an inch of his death. As long as the only person he loved would be safe.
The train came to a screeching, shuddering halt. The lights flickered and then went out. Blaise and Theo stood, their breathing suddenly too loud. Blaise pulled out his wand and inched towards the door. Before he could reach it the door was thrown open. Several hooded Death Eaters passed, throwing open compartment doors and occasionally yelling at or even hexing students. One thin Death Eater hovered in the doorway to their compartment, blocking their way out.
“Just stay in here,” Draco’s wavering voice said from behind the mask. “Th-we’re here for s-someone…”
His voice trailed off and they heard several shrieks. Longbottom’s voice echoed defiantly down the corridor and then it was replaced by crashes and bangs and more screaming. Suddenly, a half-familiar Death Eater’s voice rang loudly through the corridors.
“You filthy blood-traitor!” he shouted angrily. “I’ll get you. Your whole family’s going to be next, filthy Weasley! Crucio! Well, what are you waiting for, you idiots, take the Lovegood girl and let’s go!”
Blaise suppressed the smile that threatened to spread across his face. He wondered which curse the Weasley girl had used.
…
“Zacharias Smith, you get into the fireplace this instant!” his mother was shouting.
Zach shook his head stubbornly. “I’m not going until they’ve found her and made sure she’s all right.”
His mother ignored him and pulled out her sack of floo powder. She thrust it at him, but he turned away without taking it. Ernie and Susan had already gone home and Sprout was in the next room with McGonagall, Flitwick, Slughorn and Snape. Zach let his mother’s continuous shouting wash over him; he let it feed his anger and the destructive loneliness that had been gnawing away at him all year.
“Ahem!” McGonagall’s stern voice interrupted the flow of his mother’s shouting. “Mrs. Smith, if you please. We have just heard from the conductor of the Hogwarts Express. Luna Lovegood has been kidnapped and several other students have been injured. We believe it would be safer and more reasonable, Mr. Smith, if you would go home with your mother now. We will let you know as soon as Hannah is found.”
Zach opened his mouth to protest, but McGonagall raised a quieting hand. “No, listen, if Hannah has left of her own free will she may seek you, or another one of her friends, out. She has nowhere to go and if she tries to contact you and does not find you this will make things worse for her. Please go home and let us know if you hear from her and we will do the same.”
…
Hannah was hungry and thirsty and tired. She forced her legs to keep moving, but she knew they would give out eventually. If only she could find something to eat, or a stream of water, she would sit down and rest, but she knew that if she let herself rest now she would not be able to get back up.
Several times, she pulled out her wand and looked down at it longingly. Even her old, weak magic would be a relief now. Her head was suddenly filled with the many spells that she could use to alleviate her thirst and her pain. Several blisters had formed on the soles of her feet and, most annoyingly, they were not evenly spread out: her left foot felt much more pain than her right.
She passed a second Muggle village, and this time, she allowed herself to stop a little and watch. Leaning against a tree, Hannah watched tired Muggles coming home from work. She watched them turn on their lights and close and lock their doors in fear. And she was afraid to go in there. She was afraid to ask for help.
