von Lorelai-Stevens
Chapter 2 - You-Know-What
‚Every beginning is difficult, particularly the beginning of the end.'
- Zarko Petan
The Daily Prophet, July 3, 1995
On the evening of July 2nd, a muggle burglar in Cornwall made one gruesome discovery: On one of his raids at a seemingly inhabited manor of the southern district, he came upon two bodies. The house was completely destroyed, the bodies in a non-portable state, he told the muggle police. Two employees of the Ministry took care of the situation. Although it was obviously murder, the investigation revealed no specific details. There was a loss of rounded half million Galleons. The identitie sof the victims have not yet been clarified. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement is asking for your help. Information should be directed to the Office for Investigation and Detection.
Reported by Dough Harmish
September 2, 1995
With a loud bang Miles Bletchley let his Potions book fall on the common room table. Adrian Pucey, who was just trying to draw a very complicated character for his Ancient Runes homework, looked up expectantly and raised an eyebrow.
"What's with that?"
Miles pointed to the book. "Apparently the book's previous owner thought it was super smart to add his two cents to every recipe. Something's always crossed out so you can't read it and the cover surely has seen better times." He flopped himself on the opposite seat with a sullen expression. "I gave my own Potions book to Gabriel, because he wasn't able to get one of his own at Flourish & Blotts, so I had to ask Snape for a book. This is the only one left and now I know why." He grunted. "It sucks."
Adrian took the book and opened it at its first page. "Property of the Half-Blood Prince", he read with furrowed brow. He looked at Miles. "Who the hell is the Half-Blood Prince?"
Miles shrugged. "No idea. If I wouldn't know for sure that this arrogant little bootlicker Malfoy was a pure-blood, I'd bet my broomstick that it's him. Who else would give themselves such a title? It's bloody stupid if you ask me."
Adrian flipped through the book from cover to cover. As Miles had said, on nearly every page stood hand-written notes on the sides. There were additional tips and guidance to existing recipes. With the feeling that this book would come in handy some time, he closed it and fumbled in his school bag until he found his own Potions book, then he offered it to Miles.
"Here. You can have mine."
"Really?" Miles' mood seemed to improve immediately. He grabbed the still brand new looking Potions book and tucked it into his bag, then his excitement gave way to skepticism. "And what do you expect in return?"
"What makes you think I do?" Adrian wanted to know.
"Well, it would be the first time in ten years that you'd expect nothing in return for a favor." Miles noted. "Do you remember that time when we were eight and asked you to help me smuggle my dad's magic carpet from the attic and you made me promise to give you my sneakoscope? Or in second grade, when I asked you to persuade Sidney Anderson in going out with me and you meant you'd only help me if I'd allow you to write off my Charms homework? Or at the age of ten, when-"
"I got it" Adrian interrupted him flailing. "I'm an evil son of a bitch. Tell me something I don't know. But, as a matter of fact, there really is something you could do for me."
His best friend sighed resignedly. "What would that be?"
"Go to Montague and tell him that I'm not going to play anymore this year." Adrian said quietly and brushed aside black bangs of his tousled hair. "He'll have to get himself a new chaser, whether he wants to or not."
"What?" Miles spit out dumbfounded, who wasn't too fond of the idea of playing in the Quidditch team without his beast friend. "But why?"
"I have my reasons" said Adrian tersely and stared fixedly at his homework while the grip around the pen in his hand tightened and made his knuckles turn white.
"Are you sure?" Miles wanted to know, who completely missed out on Adrian's tension. What else is new? Miles never had been the attentive, sensitive type. He always completely passed up on emotional states and as a comforter he was entirely useless. "Montague's going to kill me! The bearer of bad news is always a bad guest, you know! What am I supposed to tell him?"
"You'll think of something." Adrian assured him and put his books into his bag before he got up. If only he didn't have to think of something. "Invent something. Tell him I had a bit too much fun with women and my healer says sitting on a broom in the near future wouldn't be ideal." He faked a mischievous grin, patted on Miles' shoulder, swung his bag over his own and fled from the common room and the company of his best friend as long as he was still able to keep a straight face at the thought of his reasons not to play Quidditch.
Katie Bell was working in the library on an essay about the breeding and treatment of reel roots, which Professor Sprout had already encumbered them on the second day of school, when suddenly the two students appeared at her table from whom she had thought up till now that they didn't even know where the library was.
"What's happening, Kates?" George Weasley greeted her.
"You all right?" his identical twin brother Fred added. Without waiting for an answer they sat down left and right from her on the bench.
"You've got to help us," he demanded and grabbed her essay.
"I do?" Katie said amused and snatched the piece of parchment, before he was able to make fun of her bad phrasing.
"You do," George probated and held the essay in his hand before she could even blink. "You'll get this back as soon as you've helped us." He frowned as he skammed the text. "Your diction is horrible!"
"With what do you need my help, you buggers?"
"No need to be rude, Ms Bell," Fred looked around cautiously, as if a troll could jump out between the bookshelves at any second. "Angelina is going to show up in-" He threw a checking glance at his watch. "- ten and a half minutes and look for us. And as soon as she gets here, she's probably going to be fire spitting with rage because Harry incurred detention in Umbridge's class and by sheer chance –"
"– we had absolutely nothing to do with it –"
"– Umbridge may or may not have found newt eyes in her daily cup of tea after that and for some reason she thinks that we are behind that and gave us impositions."
"Whatever gave her that idea." Katie said sarcastically. "Let me guess, now you want me to make up an alibi for you to delay the good scolding?"
"Exactly. You are the most talented liar we know -"
"Well thank you very much," Katie grumbled.
"- not to mention that people believe absolutely everything you say -"
"- and nobody would ever come to the idea that this lovely, decent, well-behaved girl with the blonde curls and the button nose that always looks like it would never even hurt a fly would do something that's against the rules -"
"- especially since she's a prefect."
"Which is, by the way, a reason not to be friends with you. But we want to, anyway. See it as a charity thing," bantered Fred and pinched her nose playfully.
"Say no more, I got it, you're safe with me," Katie grimaced while the twins beamed mischievously and almost crushed her to death.
"We LOVE you, you know that, right?" Fred smarmed and rediculously batted his eyelashes. "Honestly Katie, you have ALWAYS been our favourite."
"Yeah, as if one of you two even knew how to write 'honestly'," Katie sighed. "Alright you toadies, stop the nonsense and give me back my paper." She demandingly held out her hand, but George hesitated and bagged the essay. "I'd rather not. Trust me Kates, it's for your own good. Your phrasing is dreadful. It's even worse than Fred's."
"Eh!" Fred protested.
"Sad but true," Katie shrugged her shoulders indifferently and took a look on the big, ancient clock above the library door. "So, according to my time reckoning you have eight minutes left until Angelina shows up. Educate me on why Harry has detention with Umbridge after only one Defense Against The Dark Arts lesson?"
"Oh you are going to love this," Fred put on a gleeful grin. That irritated Katie. "Why whould I love Harry being in trouble?"
"It's less the fact that he is in trouble but more the reason why he is in trouble that you're gonna love, Katiekins," corrected Fred and straddled the bench, while George took over the thread of the story. "Our dear Professor Umbridge tried to talk the Boy-Who-Lived-Like-Four-Times into believing that You-Know-Who is still nothing but a flight of fancy and that Cedric Diggory just dropped dead because he felt like it. You might be able to imagine what Harry thought of that."
Katie could only shake her head at the fact that the Ministry of Magic still got the nerve to deny You-Know-Who's return where it already received missing person reports and tidings about murder, like the one in July about two people getting killed in Cornwall, which dead certain beared the hallmarks of the Death Eaters. "What did Harry do?"
"Nothing much, really. Told her the truth about Cedric Diggory's death and went all rebel, when she tried to stop him," George reported with distinct pride in his voice.
Fred pretended to wipe away tears of affection. "Attaboy."
"We raised him well," George agreed with a nod.
"You're both oddballs," Katie stated, shaking her head. "But while we're at it, talking about You-Know-Who," She made sure nobody was listening and lowered her voice. "Anything new regarding the You-Know-What?"
"Nah," Fred said quietly and disapprovingly shook his head.
"Mom found our Extendable Ears so we couldn't tap any secret information anymore and now that they know that we're snooping, they use weird code words or only talk about the secret stuff when they're convinced that we're asleep," George said and it was obvious that he was still angry about being out of the loop. "With you?"
"Neither," she retorted displeased. "My brother sent me a letter but nothing we didn't already know about. There are still people missing, Fudge is further on thinking Dumbledore is only trying to suppress him and the Aurors are tied up in knots because they're officially not allowed to do anything about it. They feel useless while You-Know-Who and his lapdogs are out there building up an army."
She frowned. "But he managed to convince two of his friends to join the You-Know-What."
"It's not much, but it's a start," George said thoughtfully and Katie scoured her brain looking for a memory in which she ever saw a Weasley twin this serious.
"I wish we could do something useful instead of just sitting around waiting for something to happen," Fred said passionately. "But as long as this Umbridge is at our school, there is nothing we can do to support the You-Know-What except trying to convince others that everything Dumbledore and Harry said is true and we all know how well that went."
He scuffed. "Stupid gits, repeating everything the Daily Prophet writes like bloody parrots."
"We'll think of something," Katie said doubtfully, more to convince herself than Fred.
As long as the Ministry refused to admit You-Know-Who's return and as long as Umbridge strayed at Hogwarts to weed out rebels, there really was little to do for them. Lost in thought she looked around at the mostly empty library, when two students cought her eye, sitting on the ground and leaning on a shelf while they were observing passing students without talking to each other. They wore dark grey Hogwarts uniforms, including the required white button-down-shirt underneath and loosely bound silver-green ties. Katie's facial expression darkened.
"Perhaps there is something we can do after all," Fred began who had followed Katies gaze.
George, as usual, had already divined his twin's thought and nodded. "We always worry about the danger that's gonna threaten us outside of Hogwarts, but what about the danger within it?" he said meaningfully, pointing towards the Slytherins with a nod. "We all know that the serpents are sympathizing with You-Know-Who's views - as you can tell by just looking at Malfoy, that little prick, or Flint. Who assures us that they're not going to defect at the very first opportunity?"
"Someone should definitely keep an eye on that bunch before they get any daft ideas," Fred muttered assenting. "We still won't achieve much with that, but at least we won't be sitting around idly."
"Your sense of mischief would be deployed reasonable for once," Katie concluded and poked George's side amicably.
"True that!" George rose and stretched himself luxuriously, before he took a look on the clock and startled. "Dammit, Angelina is going to be here any second. Look alive, Fred."
"Time to buzz off, indeed", Fred admitted and leapt to his feet for a mocking bow. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Miss. And remember, -"
"Don't tell anybody about the You-Know-What", Katie rattled off, nodding. "I know, Sam has been telling me the same thing over and over and again." She rolled her eyes and shooed them, as she noticed approaching footsteps which sounded suspiciously like Angelinas, who was always stomping like a herd of hippogriffs when she was pissed off. She only just saw two ginger bobs disappearing behind the next shelf, as a snorting with rage quidditch captain built in front of her desk.
"Where are those muppets," Angelina demanded to know.
"Who?" Katie asked sanctimoniously and pretended to write her Herbology essay.
Angelina walked around Katie's table and started picking books from the shelves to peer through. "The spawn of the devil, the reason I'll go grey at twenty. They must have com past here, Ernie Macmillan told me." Katie had a fancy that Ernie didn't tell her voluntary. Angelina's eyes narrowed to slits and she looked at Katie searchingly. "You would give the word if they had stopped by, wouldn't you? For the purposes of our long-term friendship and whathaveyou?"
"Seriously, Angelina, whom would I help rather - you, with whom I'm friends since my first day at Hogwarts and who always runs interference for me on the Quidditchfield, or the twins of chaos who dyed my hair green with a spell in second grade and have put toads into my bed." She put on her most innocent, trustworthy face. Angelina's expression softened and she sighed yieldingly before she sat down on the edge of the table.
"Makes sense. Somehow," she admitted and grabbed Katie's second, half-finished essay. "It's just that they're driving me nuts! I have no idea how Oliver managed to schedule a regular training for three years when I'm only captain for a day and already am struggling because three members of our team got detention! I bet something like this never happened to Wood."
She frowned, looking at the essay in her hand. "Wow, Katie, you really should do something about your diction."
From time immemorial, being a Slytherin had required a mixture of indifference, callousness, obstinacy, the ability to form their own opinion and the pigheadedness to insist on the very same. But above all, one needed to be thick-skinned. When the Sorting Hat had sent him to Slytherin, he did expect a certain extent of rejection. It had been quite clear to him that the other students would be suprised by the hat's choice, especially due to the fact that all of his siblings had been sorted into the Houses of the "good guys".
His flawless brothers. His perfect little sister.
He could feel her looking at him, but as soon as he looked up she quickly turned away and spoke at a low voice to the two redheads at her side. If she knew what he knew she would pass away the arrogance. Prefect. He almost gave a humourless laugh.
At first they all tried to cover up their dismay about his house affiliation and act normal in dealing with him, but as soon as they noticed that not only his but also their own popularity suffered from it, they gave it up pretty quickly. He would have been able to live with that - his siblings turning away from him, because they preferred their unblemished hipocrite friends over the wily Slytherin brother - but it weren't only the students from other houses that shunned him.
Once the House knew what his family thought of them, he was met by nothing but suspicion. His classmates avoided talking to each other in front of him, let alone with him because they thought he would extravert their little secrets. Until his current best friend took a stand for him and put an end to this nonsense.
By now it was own decision not to talk to his classmates, apart from his best friend. Well, the term friend was debatable - they kept each other company, sat together at dinner, teamed up in class and in exchange they accepted one anothers self chosen solitude without asking stupid questions. None of them had ever questioned the agreement and it had always worked perfectly.
Just as at this very moment as they sat side by side on the floor in front of the shelf, enjoying the library's silence knowing that either one of them was bothered by something, but also accepting that neither one of them wanted to talk about it. They simply needed company.
A loud, imperious voice made him shy away from his thoughts and he looked over at the Gryffindor prefect, only to witness how the very same girl flat-out lied right into her friends dewy-eyed face without even batting an eyelid. Nothing new; it only confirmed once again what he already knew anyway. Year-long bottled up anger was simmering in the depths of his stomach and spread throughout his whole body.
How easily they could have swapped places. How easily he could have been in her place, being popular with his classmates and the teachers, being prefect and member of the Quidditchteam and how easily she could have been in his place, spending her Hogwarts years in the dungeons, where even her own condisciples excluded her and where everyone could see who she truly was.
"Gabe, you okay?" Adrian asked firmly, anxious not to invade his privacy.
No, he thought. "It's all good," he answered instead and his friend pulled back into his self-imposed silence. His instinct told him to ask Adrian about is well-being, who seemed to deal with something since he had entered Hogwarts this year, but their agreement kept him off. Company in exchange for not interfering. That was the deal.
And Slytherins always adhered to deals.
Tbc.
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