Our detentions turned out to be nothing more than a visit to Hagrid's. He was furious when he heard about what had happened, and had gone to Snape, saying that he needed some students to help him with a job in the forest. In reality, we had tea with Hagrid, and he gave us a good long talking to.
“Yeh know, I reckon you lot could o' gotten inter a load o' trouble. Bu' yeh know wha'? You did the righ' thing. Keep fightin'! After all, Dumbledore once said, “I won' never be gone from this school, s'long as those here are loyal ter me!” An' tha's wha' yer doing, innit? Stayin' loyal ter Dumbledore.”
That's exactly what we did. All the old D.A. members came to us, asking if this meant that we were reforming. We told them that we'd contact them as soon as we came up with a new scheme. Until then, we decided to lay low and case the joint.
The vile Carrow twins were given total control of discipline, though in some cases they needed Snape's okay. Most of the teachers refused to punish any of the students and report them to the Carrows, anticipating their awful methods of punishment. Despite this, if they got wind of any situation, they pounced on everyone, even innocent bystanders. It was a common sight to find students wandering the halls the day after a detention, or indeed the week after, sporting battle scars and looking around in a paranoid sort of way, as if their every move were being watched.
Muggle Studies quickly became everyone's least favorite subject. Alecto was a harsh disciplinarian, a tall and disgustingly thin woman with crooked teeth and a loud, cruel voice that sounded like fingernails on a blackboard. She dished out punishment like candy, usually with no warning at all. No one knew what would set her off; if you accidentally dropped a quill, if you sneezed, if you just happened to be within reach, she would turn on you and hit with any variety of curses. The classes themselves were boring, with us taking endless notes on how filthy and awful Muggles were. Most kids only did it because they were terrified, but Sammy refused. She received many of Alecto's awful punishments, usually Furnunculus. Sammy had taken to carrying the antidote in her bag wherever she went.
Defense Against the Dark Arts was also low on the favorite list. Amycus was a short, fat many who had a piggy face and a slimy voice that made my insides crawl. His skin was very oily to the point that he seemed sweaty and shiny all the time. He didn't take care of himself very well; he often wore the same clothes for weeks at a time, he had several gold teeth, his hair was limp and matted, and he ate more than Hagrid and Ron Weasley put together. It was disgusting to watch him, stuffing his face with whatever the house elves happened to be serving, never bothering with utensils, and great chunks of the stuff flying out of his mouth as he chewed. His lessons were comprised of lengthy lectures on the usefulness of the Unforgivable Curses- at least, until the end of the first month.
Since the Carrows were handing out so many detentions, they were having a hard time keeping track of them, and they didn't have much time to carry them out. They didn't like to set dates for detentions; instead, Alecto kept a notebook with a list of all the children needing to be punished, and they would randomly select three or four students at a time, and have them kidnapped by Slytherin Prefects. The trouble was, this list was getting very long. Their solution? Seventh year Defense Against the Dark Arts classes.
~ * ~
Professor Carrow waddled into Double D.A.D.A. on Friday afternoon with extreme difficulty. This was due to the fact that he was dragging a second year girl along by the hair. She was tiny, but fighting him as hard as she could, stepping on his toes and elbowing his vast stomach. Her long hair was curly and light brown. She had blue eyes that were widened with determination, and her face was sprinkled with freckles. I was startled by her resemblance to Simon.
Amycus locked the door with a twitch of his wand, one hand still twisted in the girl's hair. Tired of her twisting and kicking, he aimed his wand at her neck. “Give me a reason, pretty girl, and I'll do it.” She went limp instantly, her eyes scanning the room for a way of escape.
Amycus cleared his throat and said, “I thought we'd stop theory today and start on the practical.” He grinned wickedly, showing his rotting teeth. I stepped back in horror. The girl's eyes widened, and she searched the room, this time for help.
“You mean we're going to torture her?” I said, disgusted. “What's she done?”
“She's been getting clever with the Muggle Studies Professor,” said Amycus, giving her hair a sharp wrench. She squealed and closed her eyes tight. “You'll be practicing the Cruciatus Curse.” Despite how tightly her eyes were shut, a single tear coursed down her cheek.
I glanced across the room at the Slytherins. Many of them, like Crabbe and Goyle, looked eager. Malfoy looked slightly apprehensive, but he had nothing to worry about; I was sure Amycus was one of his Daddy's little friends. Valentine looked vaguely sick, her face paler than usual. The Gryffindors, by contrast, looked outraged.
“I'm not doing it,” I choked out hoarsely. “I won't.”
“You won't, eh?” growled Amycus' oily voice.
“No, I won't. Alecto Carrow deserves what she gets, whether it's from a twelve-year-old or an eighty-two-year-old.”
It happened quickly. One moment, I was shaking with rage where I stood, the next I was writhing on the floor. The pain was indescribable- it was as though someone took white-hot metal sticks and started shoving them into every part of my body. I'm sure I screamed, but I have no recollection of any sound at all, except the awful ringing in my ears.
Maybe it lasted seconds, maybe several centuries, but the pain stopped as suddenly as it had started. I lay on the floor, gasping for breath. I heard someone crying, and was less than thrilled to discover that it was me. Somebody pulled me off to the side of the room and propped me against a wall.
“Anybody else want to disagree with the lesson plans?” said Amycus, glaring around at us all.
“Yeah,” said Neville. “Me.”
“And me!” said Sammy, stepping between Neville and Amycus' outstretched wand.
Their protests were echoed by several other Gryffindors, and Valentine. In my haze, I could see that she had pulled me out of the way when Amycus had finished punishing me. Amycus glowered at us; there was no way he could curse us all. He settled with forcing us to watch as the willing Slytherins lined up and began to attempt torturing the girl.
Many of the curses were rather weak. Amycus' charge suffered from a violent nosebleed and a black eye, twitching a little as if someone were pinching her whenever a new student attempted the curse. Then Crabbe and Goyle each had their turn. The girl yelped loudly when Crabbe cursed her, and when Goyle's turn came, she moved away from him. Then it was Malfoy's turn.
I braced myself. Everyone who had been in the hospital wing last June knew that Malfoy was a bona-fide Death Eater. I would have bet anything that he had experience with this curse in particular. Clearly Amycus was expecting a show too, because he leaned forward slightly and leered in triumph.
Malfoy stepped forward and raised his wand. He uttered the curse quietly, but firmly. The little girl screamed, crying, rolling on the floor, begging him to stop. Malfoy screwed up his face and lowered his wand after only a few seconds, turning and leaving the classroom just as the bell rang. The girl was now a quivering lump on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Class dismissed!” called Amycus cheerfully. Not even bother with his prisoner, he scurried up to his office as the class filed out for lunch. Neville helped me up, and Sammy ran over to the girl.
“What's your name, sweetie?” asked Sammy very quietly. The girl looked up, tears still flowing down her face.
“Sally,” she whispered.
“Can you stand up Sally?” asked Valentine, standing nearby.
Sally nodded and weakly got to her feet with Sammy's help. Sammy put an arm around her shaking shoulders and turned to Neville. “Do you think she can make it all the way to the hospital wing? It's quite a walk from here.”
“If she can't, we'll go and get Madam Pomfrey,” Neville decided. “And somebody should find Simon. He'll want to know they got his little sister.”
I felt a horrible sinking feeling in my chest. Valentine and I mutely began walking to the library, the most likely place any Ravenclaw was to be. Valentine did not speak. Her face, usually pale, almost translucent white, was flushed with color. She was looking at the floor, her hands balled up into fists.
“What's up?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
“We couldn't do anything to stop it,” she said. Her voice was dangerously silent. Unlike most people, who get louder as they get angrier, Valentine becomes quieter. At the moment, she was practically whispering. She would only be able to take so much of this before she'd explode.
“At least we didn't have to actually do the curse, though. That's something,” I said hopefully.
Valentine shook her head. “We have to do more than just sit around and watch other people suffer,” she said. “The D.A. is about action. Well, I say we act!” Valentine's ordinarily calm indigo eyes were now lit with a fire I had never seen in them before. I thought back to the story she told me last year, how she had accidentally gotten so angry that she set all of the bed hangings in her dormitory on fire. I could see how she'd done it now.
We arrived at the library and almost immediately found Simon. He was sitting in the history section, bent over one of Binns' essays no doubt. Valentine's expression changed. “I'll wait here,” she whispered, standing at the end of the row of books, her face draining of color as suddenly as it had come.
I went over to Simon, thinking how this time I was the one sneaking up on him. I touched his shoulder, and he turned, smiling when he realized it was me. “Hey, Rosie,” he said, and then noticed my expression. “What's wrong? Did something happen?”
~ * ~
On Saturday, after dinner, Neville, Ginny, Sammy, and I headed up to the Room of Requirement to get set up for the first D.A. meeting. It was great to be back; the room transformed into the same one we'd used fifth year. Purple cushions were stacked up off to the side, and all the old Dark Detectors were off in their corner. The books were the same as well, and Ginny walked off to examine some of them. I, on the other hand, went over to the old bulletin board.
It was just stuff that we accumulated throughout fifth year that showed our efforts. The list of members had been put up by Hermione with Spell-o-tape, and Cho Chang had put up a picture of Cedric Diggory. There was the article Harry had done for The Quibbler that had convinced so many people that Voldemort was back, and had infuriated Umbridge. There was a picture of the D.A. together that Collin Creevy had taken around Christmastime fifth year, all of us smiling or else looking annoyed. The one that interested me, though, was the one Harry brought with him to the second meeting. It was a picture of the Order of the Phoenix during the first war.
I had never really looked closely at that picture until now. I didn't recognize very many people, but I spotted a few familiar faces. I recognized Mad-Eye Moody with a pang of sorrow at his death, which still felt incredibly surreal to me; there was Sirius Black, who until recently I had thought was a murderer; Hagrid stood at the back, grinning broadly from under his thick beard; and two other people, standing off to one side. A married couple, one with untidy black hair and glasses, the other like an older version of me.
My parents.
“You look like her,” said a quiet voice. I hadn't expected Simon to come to the meeting. When I told him about his sister, his entire face looked like someone had set it on fire. I thought he was going to murder me, Valentine, Madam Pince, and anyone else that got between him and Sally. I had paid them a visit in the hospital wing earlier- at least, I tried to. I had walked up to the hospital bed, and found a sleeping Sally, and Simon was dozing in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs that Madam Pomfrey keeps next to the beds for visitors. I just put the bouquet of roses I had brought on the bedside cabinet and went my way quietly.
“How's Sally?” I asked. Simon didn't answer. Then, someone called to us from behind.
“Oy, you two! Care to rejoin the mortals, please?”
It was Ginny. Nearly everyone had arrived. “The meeting's about to start,” said Ginny, tugging me over to a cushion between her and Sammy. Neville was standing in the front of the room, looking very uncomfortable. I knew talking in front of an audience was never his strong point, and I felt myself growing nervous as well. Ginny gave him an encouraging nod, and he began.
“Well,” Neville began hoarsely. He coughed and started again. “Well, we all know why we're here, I suppose.” Merlin, for someone who stood up to one of the formidable Carrows, he was sure nervous.
“Yeah,” called Simon from behind me. “Because Snape's a vile git!” That got some laughs, and the serious tension that had built up in the room fluttered away. Neville cracked a crooked smile of appreciation.
“The whole point of starting this group was to get rid of an awful teacher that was dragging Dumbledore's name through the mud, right? Well, now we have three awful teachers. Maybe they're known Death Eaters, and maybe they're bigger and stronger. But we have one thing that they don't.”
“What's that?” asked a shrimpy kid in the front of the group. Neville looked down at him and grinned.
“Harry Potter,” he said.
The Other Potter by georgeisholey
Chapter Notes: Hey guys! I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!! (but wish I did) Here I am, updating my story, and I am soo glad we're in double digits! Can I get a BOO-YA?? So, anyway, I this is when we get more into the D.A. and how everyone is settling into "the new regime" (heehee). It's not bad... I just wanted to give everyone the general idea of what Hogwarts is like now, since we don't really hear much of it the books, but I don't think it's too nutso! Enough of my gabbing, enjoy!
Chapter Endnotes: Hey, that little thing... You know, down there? That little square thing with your name on top of it? It's a magical box, forged in the fires of Mount Doom, and if you say something nice to me, it will give you the secrets to rule all mankind...