Chapter 4: Friend and Foe
“Going somewhere, Weasley, Longbottom, Lovegood?” inquired Snape coldly.
Ginny’s mind worked frantically to come up with an excuse, at the same time moving so that the bundle in Neville’s arms was blocked from view. Maybe, just maybe Snape hadn’t caught sight of it.
“We, we were um, looking for you, Professor- Headmaster,” Ginny improvised, reasoning that there was little else three students could be doing walking down the corridor to the Headmaster’s office. “Because we “ well, that is to say, Luna “ had a- a premonition.” She felt bad for suddenly turning the attention on Luna, but her friend’s face remained perfectly calm, and she even nodded to back up the claim.
“Yes,” Luna agreed solemnly. In ethereal tones that put Ginny in mind of Professor Trelawney, she stated, “I have received a message from the ether. The message was this: ‘The doe is watching you.’
Ginny could have sworn Snape flinched, which made no sense whatsoever, because in the next moment his face was as impassive as always, and he was saying with a tone of disdain, “I hardly think I need to be afraid of woodland creatures, Miss Lovegood. Would the three of you care to explain the object Mr Longbottom is holding?”
A wave of cold flooded through Ginny, erasing the small amount of hope she had managed to summon. There was no way out of this one. Not only had she got two of her best friends in trouble, but the Sword would no doubt be in Voldemort’s possession before the day was over. There was no way of fighting Snape, or of running and hiding the sword; they couldn’t leave Hogwarts. All at once the castle felt more like a prison than like home.
“Hand it over, Mr Longbottom,” ordered Snape, and slowly, with an expression of deep dislike, Neville complied. Ginny remembered suddenly that Snape had always been Neville’s greatest fear, and she was sure that somewhere underneath the mask of loathing was the terrified young boy Neville had once been. But his composure did not waver.
Snape unwrapped the cloak, and showed no surprise at finding the Sword within. His lip only curled as he said, “Detention, the three of you, and fifty points each from Gryffindor for attempting to steal a highly valuable magical object.”
He made to move past them. Ginny frowned; he hadn’t mentioned what their punishment would be. She didn’t believe for one moment that it was accidental; he was either trying to prolong their worry, or force them to ask him what it was, as a sort of power game. Maybe both. Gritting her teeth, she called out in her steadiest voice, “What’s our punishment, Profe- Headmaster?”
Without turning around, Snape replied, “You will report to Professor Hagrid’s hut at nine o’clock. I’m sure he can find some work for you to do in the Forbidden Forest.”
He disappeared into his office. Ginny stared after him, feeling dizzy with relief and a kind of disbelief. Detention with Hagrid? It was the best kind of detention they could hope for. Heck, it might even be good fun, working with the kinds of creatures that the Forest played host to “ like an extended Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Plus, it would give them a chance to talk to Hagrid uninterrupted, and ask him what he thought about the Carrows and Snape, maybe get his opinion on re-forming Dumbledore’s Army… Ginny’s heart lifted at the thought. Even remembering about Voldemort possessing the Sword of Gryffindor couldn’t do much to dampen that.
They walked down the corridor until they were safely out of earshot, and then Neville bent towards them conspiratorially. “Did he really think that the Forbidden Forest would scare us?” he asked, sounding just like Ginny felt “ unable to believe their luck. “Detention with Hagrid! I can almost look forward to that.”
“I was expecting him to torture us somehow,” Luna admitted in her usual candid manner, and for once Ginny had been thinking the same.
“We just lost our two houses a hundred and fifty points collectively, though,” Ginny reminded them. “We shouldn’t be glad about that.”
Neville shrugged. “To be honest, the House Cup doesn’t seem that important this year, what with You-Know-Who taking over and Snape being Headmaster… we have bigger things to worry about. Besides, hasn’t the Sorting Hat been promoting unity between the Houses for ages? We shouldn’t be competing amongst ourselves any more.”
“That’s true,” agreed Ginny.
“That was an admirable thing to do, Severus,” said the portrait of Dumbledore quietly, as Snape re-entered the room.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” replied Snape, his face impassive as he waved his wand, repairing the glass case which had contained the false Sword of Gryffindor. He replaced the sword in its case, pretending not to see Dumbledore’s knowing smile.
At 9 o’clock, Ginny, Neville and Luna met in the entrance hall for their detention, and found Filch waiting there to escort them down to Hagrid’s Hut. He gave them his characteristic leer and began to lead the way out into the grounds.
“Things are changing around here all right, oh yes, just like two years ago… You miscreants got off lightly this time, but put one more toe out of line and you’ll be sorry… I’ve kept the chains in my office well oiled.” Filch cackled to himself. Ginny and Neville exchanged a glance, but didn’t speak.
They reached Hagrid’s hut, and Filch went up and knocked on the door. Fang’s barking was heard from inside as usual, but it was interspersed, unusually, with growling. Ginny wondered if Fang could smell Filch and didn’t like what he smelt. She didn’t blame him.
The door opened to reveal Hagrid’s massive form. “Back, Fang!” he ordered, as the boarhound snarled at Filch. “All righ’ Filch, I’ll take ‘em from ‘ere.”
Filch sneered at them one last time and shuffled off back up to the castle. Hagrid maintained a stern façade until Filch was safely out of side, and then broke into a wide smile. “All righ’, yeh lot? This way.”
Of course Neville, Ginny and Luna all knew the way to the Forbidden Forest well, having been there for Care of Magical Creatures lessons “ and other occasions, the most memorable being when they had ridden Thestrals along with Harry, Ron and Hermione to the Ministry of Magic in order to rescue Harry’s godfather from Voldemort’s clutches. Neville could also still vividly remember a very similar detention he’d received in his first year which involved venturing into the Forbidden Forest accompanied by Hagrid. Neville was far less frightened of the Forbidden Forest six years later, but the trees still looked dark and ominous as they loomed either side of the little group.
“So, wha’ was it yeh did to earn detention, anyway?” Hagrid asked as they wove their way into the Forest. “Snape didn’ mention it, jus’ said yeh were going to be helpin’ me out this evenin’, and I didn’ care ter ask the murderin’ slime,” he finished in a near-growl, his expression dark.
“We tried to steal the Sword of Gryffindor,” Ginny replied. “It didn’t work, though.”
“Yeh wha’?” cried Hagrid in shock. Ginny quickly described the way in which they’d attempted to steal the sword, which was a remarkably brief tale considering all the planning and worry that had gone into it. Once she had finished, Hagrid gazed down at them all in amazement.
“Tha’ was righ’ brave of yeh, that was… stealin’ the Sword of Gryffindor… blimey,” he said. “Yeh were lucky Snape didn’ punish yeh worse!”
“We were thinking the same thing,” agreed Neville. “But it would have been worth it to get the Sword of Gryffindor away from Snape… now, it might as well belong to You-Know-Who.”
Hagrid looked thoughtful. “Well, I dunno abou’ tha’,” he said, to the others’ surprise. “Ter be honest, I don’ think You-Know-Who could use a thing like tha’ sword. It’s a Gryffindor sword, remember? And he was in Slytherin. Mos’ likely he jus’ wants ter keep it safe so his enemies can’ get their hands on it. Like yeh three almos’ did,” he finished with a chuckle.
Ginny’s heart lifted at these words, and she felt as if an enormous burden “ their failure to retrieve the Sword “ had been lifted from her shoulders. “So you really don’t think You-Know-Who wants to use it as an extra weapon?” she asked.
“Nah,” replied Hagrid. “He’s powerful enough withou’ that, isn’t he?” And even this rather grim reminder of Voldemort’s power didn’t entirely dampen Ginny’s good spirits. Neville, too, looked more cheerful as he asked, “So, what work are we going to do, Hagrid?”
“Well, we’ve jus’ had some new unicorn foals born,” said Hagrid, “so I though’ we’d check on them firs’. This way “ quietly, now.”
He led them to a large clearing in the trees where they were greeted with the stunning sight of a pure white mother unicorn lying on the ground, her three tiny golden foals nestled next to her. All four seemed to give off an ethereal glow. Hagrid approached and crouched next to the foals, making surprisingly little noise for someone of his size.
After a few seconds he beckoned them over, and Ginny and Luna approached, Neville hanging back: grown unicorns would only let girls come near them. Hagrid rose and drew back, allowing the girls to take his place. Ginny knelt next to one of the foals, which raised its head, blinking liquid black eyes. It slowly got to its feet, shaky on newborn legs, and then half-collapsed into her lap. A smile crept onto Ginny’s face as she gazed at the foal. Next to her, Luna was gently stroking the head of another foal, murmuring what sounded like a lullaby under her breath. The third foal was bold enough to wobble its way over to Neville, nudging his legs and licking his hand, searching for food. Hagrid chuckled and produced a sugar cube from one of the many pockets of his overcoat; he gave it to Neville, who held it out and let the foal lick it, a peaceful expression on his face that mirrored how Ginny was feeling.
The feeling of peace lasted all through the rest of their unusual detention, which involved feeding some unknown meat to the Thestrals (a task which Ginny left largely to Neville and Luna, who could actually see them) and hunting through the Forest for unicorn hair which had been caught on bushes and branches, and which Hagrid could use for binding wounds and treating injuries. It was only when they returned to the castle two hours later, and Ginny sank into her four-poster bed, that the memories of the day she’d had caught up with her, and wiped it away completely.
Muggle Studies had been her second lesson of the day, although the name ‘Muggle Studies’ was a complete lie as far as Ginny was concerned. Alecto Carrow had arrived at the lesson five minutes late; the class was already seated when she arrived, the nervous hush broken only by the occasional whisper. Nevertheless, Alecto barked, “Silence!” as she strode into the room. It descended in an instant.
“Muggles!” screeched Alecto. “Filthy, dirty animals, stupid and slow, who are fit only to act as servants for wizards. They were born to serve wizards. Hundreds of years ago, they did “ but they got greedy. They got it into their tiny little brains that they were better than us. So they started to fight back. They’re not clever, but Muggles are vicious and cruel. Muggles are born vicious “ they’re incapable of anything else! They forced wizards to hide, by being violent, and changed the natural order of things. They deserve to be punished, and put back in their rightful place.”
Throughout this tirade, Alecto Carrow’s face was twisted with loathing, and she spat the words as if they tasted bad in her mouth. The class sat stunned, and it occurred to no-one to take notes as they usually would “ not even Kimberley, who had been known to take notes even in a practical lesson. Ginny thought that Alecto sounded more like she was describing Death Eaters than Muggles.
“What are you all sitting staring for?!” Alecto shrieked at them. “Quills! Parchment! Write this down!”
There was a frightened flurry of movement as students quickly grabbed the nearest writing materials and began taking notes; Niamh’s elbow knocked into Ginny as she dived for her bag. Ginny, however, sat motionless, staring at Alecto in defiance. This did not go unnoticed.
“You! Girl!” said Alecto, and Kimberley and Niamh both jumped before realising she was addressing Ginny. “Why aren’t you doing anything?!”
“I normally only write down things that are true,” replied Ginny, sounding “ and feeling “ strangely calm, even though she knew she was playing with fire by answering back.
Alecto’s face darkened in fury, and she drew her wand out from inside her robes. Niamh gasped, and Ginny’s hands clenched on the edge of the desk as she braced herself for a spell, or a curse “ maybe even the Cruciatus curse. Instead, Alecto barked, “Up here! Now!”
For a second Ginny considered staying where she was, but there wasn’t much point in making her punishment worse. She got to her feet and walked slowly to the front. Alecto raised her wand and cried, “Imperio!”
Ginny found herself floating in blissful oblivion: free from pain, free from worry, free from everything. I’ve never been imperiused before… this is nice… she thought vaguely. Then she became aware of a voice.
Get down on the floor… prostrate yourself… as low as you can go… it told her.
Right-o, thought Ginny, and felt herself move to obey.
Now apologise…
“I’m very sorry, Professor Carrow. I will be more obedient in future,” Ginny heard herself say. She was still floating blissfully, her mind blank.
“Very well,” replied Alecto, and Ginny came to and found her nose pressed against the classroom floor, practically kissing the Death Eater’s feet. Revulsion rose inside her, quickly joined by anger and humiliation. “Watch your step, girl, or next time it’ll be the Cruciatus curse,” said Alecto, but Ginny hardly heard her. She got up, feeling sick, and found she was shaking as she walked back to her desk. Niamh turned wide, horrified eyes towards her, but Ginny didn’t look at her as she pulled parchment and quill from her bag and began scribbling a very abridged version of what Alecto had been saying.
Muggles “ filthy, dirty, stupid
Vicious nature
Drove wizards into hiding
Deserve to be punished
All that kept her from cracking and ripping the parchment into shreds, or balling it up and hurling it at Alecto’s ugly figure, was the thought of their plan to steal the Sword of Gryffindor right from under the nose of Voldemort’s right-hand man. Even though the plan had only a slim chance of working, it kept Ginny going.
The memory was enough to make Ginny’s blood boil anew as she lay in her dormitory, surrounded by the quiet, regular breathing of her fellow Gryffindors. She had burned that parchment as soon as she had the chance. She would take the Cruciatus curse next time, rather than write down those utter lies as fact… as her classmates had been doing. Why hadn’t any of them stood up to Carrow? They were all in Gryffindor, they were all supposed to be brave… but then, they’d all seen that the Carrows wouldn’t hesitate to use an Unforgivable curse on a student. Maybe they thought they were in danger of Avada Kedavra?
Bad as the Muggle Studies lesson had been, Ginny’s first Dark Arts lesson had been even worse. Pig-faced Amycus Carrow was as ugly as his sister and at least as mean, probably meaner. To make matters worse, someone had decided to have the Gryffindors and the Slytherins taking lessons together, which meant sharing a classroom with the likes of Thomas Miller and Henry Trotter. Ginny couldn’t stand to see the look of glee on Miller’s face as he drank in every word that Amycus was saying.
“The Dark Arts,” Amycus spat at the class, “are the strongest sort of magic there is. Ain’t nothing better than Dark magic. You can kill, torture, and force people to do what you want. You can make ‘em wish they was never born.” An evil smile lit up his face; Ginny felt sick. “For a curse to work, you have to really hate. No place for pansies in the Dark Arts. It’s a shame we can’ get a Muggle in here to practice on, but with all these stupid spells on the castle…” He made a face that showed exactly what he thought of Hogwarts security. “So instead we got some other sorts of animals for you to use.” He hefted a large cage onto the desk which had belonged to so many different teachers; it was full of mice of various different sizes and colours, though all of them were squeaking and scurrying about in terror, as if they knew what was about to happen to them.
“Right!” Amycus opened the cage, reached in and seized a mouse. “Here!” He suddenly threw the mouse to Lukas Hill, a Gryffindor boy, who dived sideways in his seat to catch it. The rest of the mice were distributed this way, and not all of the students managed to catch them; after their initial fall, however, they scurried around on the floor unharmed, and Ginny thought they were better off than their fellows, who were about to be used for curse practice. Hers was a particularly energetic brown mouse who kept scampering towards the edges of the desk and had to be hemmed in with a cupped hand. Next to her, Niamh’s albino mouse didn’t move, but sat quivering on her desk, staring up at her with frightened pink eyes.
“Now control the little blighters,” Amycus was saying, “with the Imperius curse.” Ginny was slightly relieved that it wasn’t the Cruciatus curse they were practicing, although with someone like Miller in control, the Imperius curse was almost as bad. The Slytherins all uttered, “Imperio!” immediately, with varying degrees of success: Trotter’s mouse continued to run across his desk, apparently unaffected by the grunt which issued from his mouth, and Miller’s, Ginny saw with satisfaction, appeared to have been paralysed.
“Come on, come on, what’re you all waiting for?” shouted Amycus at the Gryffindors. Apparently unable to resist performing a new spell, Kimberley murmured, “Imperio,” and her mouse walked calmly to the centre of her desk and curled up asleep. Even seeing it perform a relatively mundane action against its own will was unsettling. Jack Sloper looked down at his mouse, grey with a white band around its middle, and intoned, “Imperio.” The mouse suddenly took a running leap from the edge of the desk, landed neatly on the floor and shot towards the door. Sloper watched it with satisfaction “ until Amycus bore down on him.
“That’ll be detention for you,” he said, “for losing your mouse.” The look of unpleasant vindictiveness on Amycus’ face let them know that the punishment wasn’t going to be just lines.
“What?” cried Colin Creevey in outrage. “That’s completely-”
Fortunately, Thomas Miller chose that moment to cry, “Look at this, Professor! Look what I’m making it do!” Amycus turned away, and Ginny thought that Colin would actually do well to keep quiet, no matter what was going on. She hated to think what might happen if the Carrows found out he was Muggle-born.
Ginny looked over at Miller’s desk as well, and her stomach turned over: Miller had successfully Imperiused his mouse, and was making it chew through its own tail. Amycus Carrow smirked.
“Congratulations, boy. Five points to Slytherin,” he said. Miller grinned, but didn’t lift the spell on the mouse, which was now shaking violently as it was forced to inflict pain on itself.
“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” shrieked Niamh, her eyes wide and her face white. Care of Magical Creatures might not have been her favourite subject, but she had a soft spot for mice: they were Helen’s favourite animal, and she kept a whole cage of them at home. Miller looked round at her and smiled smugly, evidently pleased by the distress he was causing her.
Suddenly, Miller yelled in shock as the chair beneath him was reduced to dust. He hit the floor hard, banging his arm on the desk as he went down. The curse on the mouse was lifted, and it darted off the desk, trailing blood behind it.
Ginny didn’t need to have seen Colin Creevey point his wand at Miller to know who had cast the spell: Colin was the only other person in the class who had been a member of Dumbledore’s Army, and who had been taught the Reductor Curse by Harry. Amycus Carrow didn’t know this, but he’d caught sight of the movement as Colin hastily stowed his wand out of sight, and advanced on his desk.
“Detention for you too,” he pronounced, shoving his pig-like face up close to Colin’s. “You’ll think twice about acting friendly to little animals after I’m through with you.”
Colin gulped, but said with convincing innocence, “What am I being punished for? I didn’t do anything.”
“Like hell you didn’t,” said Carrow. “What’s your blood status?” he demanded abruptly.
“H-half blood,” Colin replied.
“Yeah right,” interjected Miller as he climbed to his feet. “You’re a Mudblood. There’s no hiding filthy blood like yours.”
Ginny gritted her teeth, but willed herself not to react and give the game away. If Colin had really been a half-blood, then there would have been no reason to feel insulted.
“Don’t lie, Miller,” said Sloper scornfully. “Just because you fell off your chair…”
“I didn’t fall off it, it bloody disappeared!” shouted Miller.
“Shut up!” bellowed Amycus. “The lot of you!” The class fell silent, Miller and Sloper throwing each other mutinous glares. “You,” Carrow said, pointing at Colin. “We’ll find out how dirty your blood is later.” Colin paled visibly. “Monday, eleven o’clock in the morning, here. The pointing finger was transferred to Sloper. “Same goes for you.”
From what Amycus had said, Ginny couldn’t help but feel that she’d got off lightly with her punishment in Muggle Studies. For the rest of the day, Colin and Sloper had been quiet and ashen-faced, no doubt imagining horrible possible punishments. They had the whole of the weekend to dwell on them “ Ginny wasn’t sure why their detention had been set for a Monday, and in the morning, no less “ but it didn’t bode well.
Sleep was a long time in coming to her that night.
Owing to the first of September falling on a Wednesday, Ginny only had to endure two full days of lessons before the weekend, and only one of those had contained lessons taught by the Carrows, for which she was immeasurably thankful. None of her friends had been so lucky, and late on Saturday morning, they gathered in the common room to share outrage over the Carrows’ ‘teaching’ methods.
“When Alecto Carrow was spewing that bullshit about Muggles in ‘Muggle Studies’,” said Seamus furiously, crooking his fingers as he said the words ‘Muggle Studies’, “I was this close to hexing her.” He held up his finger and thumb, each a hair’s width apart from the other. “I’m half-blood, and my dad is nothing like any of the crap that she said.”
“Well, it’s just lies, isn’t it?” said Ginny, fists clenched on the arms of her favourite armchair. “They don’t care whether it’s true or not, it’s not like they’re in any danger of being sacked. Hermione’s parents are great people, but as far as the Death Eaters are concerned, they’re just Muggles “ they don’t even qualify as people.” She had met the Grangers on one or two occasions, and always got on very well with them.
“And then there’s the Dark Arts,” Neville added, ““ teaching the Imperius curse to people like Crabbe and Goyle! They love it, of course… took a while for them to get the hang of it, but once they did…” He trailed off, his expression dark, then continued, “Malfoy was the real surprise, though-”
“Malfoy?” said Ginny sharply. “He’s here, then? He came back to Hogwarts?”
“Yup.” Neville nodded.
“But I thought he was a Death Eater now?”
“He is,” said Neville, “but I don’t think he’s in You-Know-Who’s good books at the moment. Neither’s his dad: remember, he was supposed to get that prophecy thing off us in the Department of Mysteries, but he didn’t manage it?”
“Oh yeah,” said Ginny, remembering. Seamus looked interested: he hadn’t been in the Department of Mysteries with the others two summers ago, and information about what had really happened down there was sparse, although there were plenty of rumours.
“Anyway, I’m not surprised you didn’t notice he was back “ Malfoy’s not throwing his weight around like he used to,” said Neville with a grim smile. “He’s loads more subdued. I don’t think he’s a Prefect any more, although they had to make him Slytherin Quidditch captain because there’s no one else-”
“Oh, that reminds me,” said Ginny, sitting up. “Who’s Head Boy and Head Girl this year?”
“They’re both Slytherins,” said Seamus, “of course, because Snape picked them. I think Theodore Nott got Head Boy, and Pansy Parkinson’s Head Girl.”
Ginny shuddered: she detested the pug-faced Slytherin girl at the best of times, and being Head Girl was sure to make her even more unbearable.
Neville glanced around the crowded Common Room, which was full of students holding similar conversations to theirs, and then said in a low voice,
“So what about the DA, then? The sooner we get it going, the better, I think.”
Ginny and Seamus nodded their agreement. “Luna’s been doing the Ravenclaws,” said Ginny, “asking the people who were in it last year. Susan Bones is all for it; so are Terry Boot and Michael Corner.”
“I saw Hannah in Herbology,” said Neville, “but it was kind of hard to talk to her, we were pruning some pretty violent plants and they kept attacking us. I asked Ernie before Charms, though, and he’s up for it.”
“That gives us eight members including us, then,” said Seamus, keeping count on his fingers, “plus Laura and probably the Creevey brothers as well…” He added three more fingers. “We haven’t asked Lavender and Parvati yet, they were in it last year too.”
They looked around and spotted the two best friends, deep in conversation in a corner. With Hermione absent, they were the only occupants of their dormitory. Ginny managed to catch Lavender’s eye, and furtively beckoned them over; they then filled the two girls in on the plan to restart Dumbledore’s army. Both were keen on the idea, and the group spent another five minutes abusing Snape and the Carrows.
“We’ll need a new meeting-place, as well,” said Seamus, “since the Slytherins know we used the Room of Requirement last year.”
Neville frowned thoughtfully. “Couldn’t we just change the Room’s specifications so it’s invisible to the Carrows, or they can’t get in, or something? It really is the ideal meeting-place.”
“It still seems a bit risky,” said Seamus. “The only way we’d know whether it worked or not is if the Carrows came looking for us, and if it didn’t…” He pulled a face.
“Maybe we could meet in the Three Broomsticks?” suggested Lavender Brown. “When’s the next Hogsmeade weekend?”
“We don’t want to have to wait for Hogsmeade weekends to have a meeting, though,” Neville pointed out.
“The Forbidden Forest?” suggested Seamus. Parvati shivered.
“Not if it’s after dark, there’s some horrible things in there…”
“It’s a bit of a long way to go, too,” added Ginny. “If we’re caught, we won’t be able to make a quick escape. At least last time, most of us managed to escape from Umbridge and the Slytherins when they found the Room of Requirement…” She trailed off as she remembered that ‘most of us’ had been everyone except Harry, which brought back the painful mixture of love and longing that resurfaced inside her whenever she thought of him.
Seamus’ stomach rumbled, reminding them all that it was getting close to lunchtime. “All right then, we’ll use the Room again,” he concluded. “Let’s make it this evening at eight, after dinner. We can use the coins to let the others know.”
With that decided, they went down to the Great Hall, trying their best not to look like a group of students who had just been plotting how to undermine the new regime.