Chapter 31
The Blood Traitor
That weekend the Voldemort story came out. The reaction within the school was just as Harry had expected it would be �“ fear and anxiety.
“You don’t really think his army could defeat the Ministry, do you?” Parvati Patil asked anxiously at breakfast. Hermione had just finished reading the part about Voldemort’s warning to an assembled crowd of Gryffindors, most of whom had worried looks on their faces.
“Are you kidding?” said Seamus, a dark look on his face. “He’s got dementors, giants, the Death Eaters, who knows what else. All we’ve got is a bunch of old, overworked aurors. There’s no chance we can take him.”
“It’s true then, You-Know-Who really does have an army?” asked Dennis Creevey tremulously.
“Of course he has an army,” Hermione snapped, “Dumbledore’s been telling us that for ages, hasn’t he?”
The younger Creevey shrank under her gaze, muttering sheepishly, “Well I just sort of hoped he was wrong…”
Harry couldn’t stand it. Other than Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, (whom he had told about the story immediately after his encounter with Edgarin Smeade) they were all playing right into Voldemort’s hands. Couldn’t they see what he was trying to do?
“Don’t you lot see what’s going on here?” he demanded. “Voldemort is just trying to scare us all into surrendering.”
The gathered students blanched at the name. Harry rolled his eyes in frustration. He was about to say more when Ginny started up.
“Harry’s right. Think about it: if You-Know-Who really had an army strong enough to defeat the Ministry, d’you think he’d wait this long to attack? He’s doing the same thing a Boggart does �“ trying to frighten you because he knows he’s too weak right now to win a proper fight.”
“It’s true. There is no way Voldemort could beat us if we all banded together. He is trying to scare us into submission because he knows it is the only way he can win,” said Hermione in a calm, matter-of-fact way.
“If you ask me this whole thing,” she motioned to the paper, “is poppycock.”
The students seemed heartened by the remarks. Fortunately Hermione and Ginny had been there to back him up. He realized sadly, however, that most of the wizarding world would probably react the same way the Gryffindor students had, if not worse.
The next few days of reading the Prophet confirmed this suspicion. Story after story about how powerful and terrifying Voldemort’s army was likely to be and speculation on how soon he would attack littered the papers, as did stories about prominent wizarding families fleeing the country, preferring a life of hiding in a foreign country rather than facing Voldemort. One of the few bright points in all this was how Amelia Bones, the recently installed Mistress of Magic, was handling the situation. She, at least, was urging the public to prepare for Voldemort’s attack and called for the rest of the wizarding world to join her instead of panicking like everyone else.
All this made Harry even more anxious to give his interview with the Quibbler. He had sought out Luna Lovegood the first opportunity he had had and while she was certain her father would be delighted to run the interview, they already had the December filled and wouldn’t be able to get to him until January or February. Unfortunately he would have to wait until then.
One good side effect of Voldemort’s going public, however, was a rise in enrollment at DA meetings. This pleased Harry, as it showed that there were at least some people who preferred fighting Voldemort to surrendering or running away to a foreign country. One day, however, he received a very unexpected guest.
It happened just before the time where Harry usually called for everyone’s attention so they could start the meeting. He was talking with Ernie MacMillan about reflecting jinxes, the rest of the room full of the usual pre-lesson chatter, when he noticed something unusual happening towards the back part of the room near the entrance. The students there seemed to be nudging each other and falling silent as they turned to face someone who had just entered. A hush slowly fell over the room as the solitary figure made his way through the crowd.
Harry craned his neck trying to see over the crowd. When he saw who it was, he understood immediately.
Theodore Nott. The son of a Death-Eater.
At first Harry thought there had to be some kind of mistake. Why on earth would Nott, a Slytherin and the son of a Death-Eater, come to a Defense Against the Dark Arts club? What was he playing at? Then it hit him. Most likely he was sent to spy, sent to learn what they were studying so he could inform the Death Eaters.
Seeing the scowls and looks of distrust on the faces of the other students, Harry realized they were thinking along the same lines. Almost immediately the silence evaporated as the students started mumbling to one another in disbelief.
“What’s he doing here?” said Hannah Abbot to her friend in a not-so-quiet whisper that carried across the room.
“Shouldn’t he be in Death Eater training with all the other Slytherins?” muttered Seamus Finnigan to mumbled agreements from those around him.
But as he watched Nott walk uncertainly through the parted crowd, a determined yet scared look on his face, something else hit Harry that made him rethink his initial assessment. It was the memory of the night two weeks previous.
He had been walking back through the castle when he had an encounter with Peeves, who later pushed a heavy suit of armor on top of him. Malfoy and his cronies had stumbled upon him, trapped and helpless with his wand on the other side of the room. Just when Malfoy had been about to jinx him into oblivion, Nott had walked over and astonishingly, inexplicably, handed his wand back to him. Why?
Harry decided to at least wait and hear what Nott had to say before turning him out.
The muttering from the other students had grown louder. Nott had just about reached Harry, had just opened his mouth to say something when a Ravenclaw seventh-year spoke up.
“Get out of here, Nott, no one wants you,” he said rudely.
“That’s right, the Death Eater fan club is meeting in the Slytherin common room, not here,” said Justin Finch-Fletchly coldly to mutters of approval from the other students.
The expression that came on Nott’s face then completely surprised Harry. He had expected to see a sneer, expected his eyes would narrow in anger and he would shoot back at Justin with harsh words. His face, however, was completely void of malice or anger. Instead there was a sort of weary resignation, even disappointment in it that caused Harry to reflect back on it days later. It lasted only a split second, then was gone. In its place was a look of stony defiance.
“Quiet!” shouted Harry, looking at the students around him. A hush fell over the room. He looked back at Nott, who was looking at him uncertainly but with the same, determined look on his face.
“Let him talk.”
Silence. Nott didn’t answer immediately.
“I was told you could teach me how to defend myself against Dark Magic. I want to learn,” he said simply, his voice hollow. The students around Harry shook their heads in distrust. Seamus Finnigan muttered, “Yeah, you want to learn so you can go tell your dad all about it.”
Harry studied Nott closely. His initial instinct was not to trust him �“ after all, wasn’t he a Slytherin, wasn’t he connected to Voldemort through his father? But something made him rethink this. Hadn’t Nott given him his wand back that night? Hadn’t he basically told Malfoy to shove off? What if he had decided he didn’t want to walk the same path Malfoy and the others were on, what if he decided he wanted something else? But how could he know?
The answer, Harry realized, was that he couldn’t. He suddenly had a much greater appreciation for what Dumbledore must have gone through when giving certain individuals, Snape and Hagrid for example, a second chance.
He quickly weighed his options. If Nott was lying and Harry let him join, then he would potentially be putting his students in danger. If, however, Nott really was sincere and Harry turned him away, he would basically be slamming the door on Nott trying to choose a different path for himself. Which was worse?
Ron, apparently seeing that Harry was considering the issue, leaned in and whispered, “Harry are you mental? His dad tried to kill us last year.”
Surprisingly enough, it was this statement that brought Harry to his conclusion. It was true, Nott’s father had tried to kill them the previous year. But that was Nott’s father. Harry had never seen anything from Nott himself that would indicate he supported the Death Eaters. Harry knew what it was like to be mistrusted, to have everyone against you when you were only trying to do the right thing. If there was even a slight chance that Nott was being sincere, Harry had to help him.
He turned to face the class, all of whom were all watching him expectantly.
“We’re here to learn how to defend ourselves against Dark Magic. I won’t turn anyone away who comes to learn.” He extended his hand towards the Slytherin.
“Welcome, Nott.”
Nott looked at him in surprise for a moment, as if he hadn’t expected that particular response at all, then shook Harry’s hand.
“Does anyone have a problem with that?” Harry asked the assembled crowd, many of whom were looking at him as though he were a complete nutter. No responses came. As he scanned their faces his eyes connected with Professor Grendelhall’s, who had been watching the whole thing silently. She smiled at him and nodded in approval.
“Great. Well then, break up into pairs and let’s start practicing the Shield Charm. I saw some real shoddy wandwork last meeting. Everyone find a partner…”
***
“Psst. Pssst! Hey Harry, did you hear?”
It was a calm, snowy day during the last week of school before the Christmas holidays. Harry and the other NEWT level Herbology students were in the greenhouses learning the correct way to prune Japanese Fire Maples. It was tricky business, as a snip in the wrong place could result in the tree emitting a burning jet of fire. “It’s the plant’s natural defense!” Professor Sprout had told them excitedly. Harry carefully set his pruning shears down and turned to look at the owner of the voice. It was Justin Finch-Fletchley. He was leaning over the table across from him, an eager look on his face.
“Hear what?”
“You know Blaise Zabini, the Slytherin seventh year?” Harry had to think for a second before nodding. He had never met Blaise, but he knew though reputation that he was a conceited and arrogant sort that spoke openly about supporting Voldemort.
“Yeah, what about him?”
“He’s just been expelled!” Justin blurted out excitedly. “And two other Slytherins with him! Hannah just saw them being escorted out of the castle by Hagrid!”
“What for? What did they do?”
“I dunno, but it must have been pretty bad for Dumbledore to kick them out of school. Blaise has been in detention a lot recently, I wonder if it had anything to do with that? Doesn’t really matter though, does it? As long as they’re gone, right?” Justin added happily, then ran off to spread the news to other students.
The news came as a surprise. It wasn’t like Dumbledore to start randomly expelling students. As a matter of fact, in the six years he had been at Hogwarts Harry couldn’t recall it happening even once. Even Draco Malfoy had been given a second chance.
After a minute or two Ron walked over. “Hey, did you hear about Zabini? Wild, isn’t it? I don’t think Dumbledore’s ever given anyone the boot. Hey--!” Ron stopped suddenly, as if an idea had just sprung to his mind. “Justin said two other Slytherins got expelled too, right?”
“Yeah. So?”
“Well, what if Malfoy was one of them?” he said slowly, a hopeful smile on his face.
Harry thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Maybe, but I doubt we’d be that lucky. Stand aside, I’ve got to cut this branch and I don’t know if it’s going to shoot or not…”
It turned out that they weren’t that lucky. News quickly spread throughout the castle that the two other expelled Slytherins were a couple of fifth years named Thane Wilmot and Morrigan Wakeley.
Despite the war and everything else going on, a feeling of festivity and excitement had somehow snuck into Hogwarts. Maybe it was the elaborate Christmas decorations that had been set up (for some reason Dumbledore had made sure they were especially nice this year), or perhaps it was simply because everyone was sick of being worried and on edge all the time, but it was starting to feel like an actual, ordinary Christmas. Teachers and students seemed to talk a little more and laugh a little freer. Classes were a bit lighter and relaxed; even Professor McGonagall had allowed them to relax the last 10 minutes of her NEWT level Transfiguration class, though she hid it behind the guise of ‘exchanging magical theories with your peers’ time.
Not surprisingly, more students than ever before had put their names down to stay over the holidays, mainly because parents thought Hogwarts was likely to be safer than home. Harry suddenly realized that he didn’t know what he was going to do for the holidays. He had been too occupied with researching how to counter ancient curses and learning defensive spells to give it much thought. Luckily, however, it was taken care of for him.
He had returned to his dormitory one day to find this letter on his bed:
Dear Harry-
With the Christmas holidays fast approaching I feel it best for you to get away from the castle and take a break from the many concerns that confront you here. I have arranged for you to spend the holidays at Godric’s Hollow under the protection of an old friend. You would then spend Christmas Day at Grimmauld Place (or Weasley Place, as Molly so incessantly reminds me). If this is agreeable to you, meet me outside the castle on our designated departure day. If not, please let me know and we can make other arrangements. Merry Christmas Harry.
Sincerely yours,
Albus Dumbledore
Harry folded the letter back up and put it in his bag, feeling happier already. A holiday in Godric’s Hollow was just what he needed.