Chapter 1: Millicent Calls a Meeting

"Order! I call the meeting to order!"

Nobody was listening. Bulstrode cast a Sonorous and tried again. "Order!"

In the slight lull that followed, Pansy's voice rang out above the rest: "Who died and put you in charge?"

That was the question, wasn't it? Bulstrode gave a tight smile. There was dead quiet now; she ought to thank Pansy for the favor, even though it was obviously not what she intended. Pansy had developed quite the talent for getting the opposite of what she wanted whenever she opened her mouth, but clearly she still hadn't learned her lesson.

Zabini stood up in the breach. "Point of Inquiry: can you make Pantsy shut up?"

There were some giggles and murmurs of agreement at that. Since her big mouth had gotten the whole House smeared, Pantsy had been stripped of all rank and seventh-year privileges and returned to her old hated nickname, by mutual agreement of the rest of the House. And really, it was her own fault, thought Bulstrode, she ought to have known you can't expect the other Houses to listen to reason.

It wasn't a proper Point of Inquiry at all, Zabini was always useless at protocol, but a good idea was a good idea. "I move that Pantsy shut up. Is there a second?"

"Seconded!" said Zabini immediately.

"The floor is opened, closed."

"Wait a minute!" yelped Pansy.

"All those in favor?" said Bulstrode.

"AYE!"

"Opposed?"

"Nay!" said Pansy, alone.

"Motion passes."

"No it doesn't!"

"Yes, it does. Shut up, Pantsy, or I'll eject you from the meeting." Inside the meeting meant a locked door, the sanctuary of the room of the Hog's Head that they had rented, almost all the other Slytherins, whatever snacks they could buy off Aberforth, and the temporary safety Bulstrode had managed to buy off the Ministry. Outside the meeting there could be members of the other Houses and Aurors. Pansy finally shut up.

Bulstrode hoped that the Aurors would stay at bay; there was really no telling how much time they had. The current sanctuary had been hard enough to buy in the first place. In fact, everything had started to fall apart at McGonagall's announcement that the Headmaster was gone. She and the other eyes had no one to report to, and then Pantsy had opened her stupid mouth. From then on, they were all out of it. Millicent and the other eyes in the house had held a brief whispered conference, but without the least idea of where the Headmaster had gone, there was nothing they could do but follow his general instruction of keeping the other students safe.

In the end, she left Theo Nott guarding the door of the back room of the Hog's Head that they had finally managed to secure for the rest of the House, and headed back for the school. Sluggy had long since gone charging off somewhere, like a fool. By now, the Headmaster must have everything under control again.

Halfway there she realized that it had been much, much worse than she thought. There were unmoving shapes on the grass that she couldn't look at, part of the walls were down and there was smoke everywhere.

By the time she reached the entrance hall, none of it seemed real anymore. Bulstrode almost missed Sara Fawcett, the eye from Ravenclaw, sitting against the wall and looking ashen. Finally, someone who could talk to her and would know what was going on.

"What's happening?"

"You-Know-Who is dead, it's over."

"Where's the Headmaster?"

"He's dead," she said woodenly. "He killed him, he just said it in front of everyone."

It couldn't be real, none of it. Well, what could she do but just play along until she found out where everything really stood? If she was playing along, then she could stop looking for the Headmaster and proceed to the next step of his instructions: "if I am unavailable at or after his fall, find a member of the Order and pass along my information immediately."

She left Fawcett without another word and entered the great hall. The first members of the Order that she saw were no help at all, as they were lying among the dead. She hurried past them; surely there was someone still standing. There: she just caught a glimpse behind a rank of Aurors: Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Getting to him proved difficult. There was no break in the rank of Aurors, and he appeared to be in furious conversation with someone behind them. "Let me through," she tried, but was only rewarded with a "stand clear." She didn't even rate a 'Miss,' and the color of her robe probably didn't help. Should have remembered to transfigure it. Too late now.

She tried to get through again at another part of the rank, but it was no use and there were so many wands being held ready. This was ridiculous; the Headmaster said 'immediately,' and immediately was quickly slipping away. She could almost hear his voice: "not an adequate effort, Miss Bulstrode."

It wasn't really something she should announce in public, but at the moment she could think of no other way to get through to them. She began to recite all the Order passwords that the Headmaster knew, oldest to the newest: "Bumlocus, Uncora, Llewellan, Satay - "

A dark hand reached from between the Auror ranks, seized her shoulder, and pulled her through. Everything happened very quickly then. Her wand was plucked out of her hand, a Silencio applied, she was turned this way and that, scanned and relieved of her bag.

When she was finally turned to face Shacklebolt and the Silencio removed, she came out of it with a gasp. McGonagall was there as well, she saw, looking as surprised as she was.

"Where did you get those passwords?" asked Shacklebolt in a low voice.

Damn, if she started answering questions now, she'd be tied up for ages; she just knew it. She ignored the question. "The Headmaster gave me information to pass to you immediately if he should be unavailable –"

"He what?" said McGonagall. She looked as angry as Millicent had ever seen her, angrier than when she threw out the House.

"What information?" asked Shacklebolt, more calmly.

"In my bag."

The Auror holding it turned it over at a nod from Shacklebolt. Millicent fished out her crumpled first-year parchments from the bottom. Shacklebolt looked at the stained parchments with distaste.

"In the corrections, sir. Coordinates and passwords for Snatcher outposts and muggleborn holding facilities. He said you're to go in right away in case they start killing captives. He said to get them out." She had imagined herself controlled and confident passing along the information entrusted to her, but now, in the center of all that scrutiny, she could barely get the words out without stammering.

Shacklebolt was scanning the pages intently. "Beckwith! Get this copied and distributed. I want four squads on this, now!"

Millicent wanted to hear more, but she was already being hustled away. After being yanked through two apparitions and a floo, she was left, locked in a bare room, somewhere. At least they had left her water and food.

There she was, in calm, silent, nothing for the next eight hours. It didn't help that she kept imaging whole teams of Aurors reading her terrible first-year essays with the altered corrections. All her stupid spelling mistakes, and then his notes in the margins: It would be better to eliminate all unnecessary padding and replace it with actual content at 1605 Willoughby Lane, Clatteringshaws, speak 'Dido' to enter…

She had a cry once, much against her will. It's just because you don't know what's happening, she told herself. At least there was no one around to see, but she wished that her eyes and nose weren't red when Shacklebolt finally came in. There were other Aurors with him, one bearing tea. The tea was welcome, though she had to work to keep from gulping it down.

Shacklebolt started in on the questions straight away, as she expected. How had the Headmaster chosen her? How had they passed information? How had she watched the other students? Was there any more information for the Order?

There wasn't much, really, and the job of keeping students away from the Carrows' scrutiny was all over. It hardly seemed relevant. The questions were easier than she thought until, "and who are the others, Miss Bulstrode?"

"Others?"

Shacklebolt gave her a hard look. "Other 'eyes.' It wasn't just you, was it?"

"Uh, don't know."

Shacklebolt's look got harder.

"Don't know if I can tell you that. He didn't tell me to pass it on."

"We aren't going to play games, Miss Bulstrode. If he gave information to anyone else, we need to know it, now."

"He didn't. They were just to help communicate and watch out for the other students. He didn't give them anything like that." She poked at the abused essays on the table between them.

"Why not?"

This was getting embarrassing. Well, more embarrassing. "Got some troll in the family. Legilimency doesn't work much when you're not all human."

"I see. Nevertheless, we will need the names of the other eyes."

"Need to talk to them first."

"Why?"

"They're not all… in one House. Could be bad for one to be seen getting pulled in for questioning. Could be bad for another to be seen getting thanked or something. I talk to them first, then they can come in quietly. Then it's up to them what gets seen." She felt a tad breathless after that; it was the longest speech she'd made since the oral portion of the O.W.L.s.

"I see. In terms of your own House, it won't make much difference. They're all holed up in that pub, yes? Everyone who has family involved will be brought in for questioning."

"I need to talk to them first, and they have to have a chance to talk to their families."

"They don't have to have anything, Miss Bulstrode. They may have a floo call to their parents or guardians, under supervision, and you may have a few hours to speak with them. But no one will leave the pub and they will be brought in after that. If anyone has the Mark, they will be arrested."

It was probably the best they could get, as things stood now. Bulstrode nodded reluctantly.

"I'll give you some cards. Whoever is one of the eyes can present it when they are brought in. They will be brought to me. We will keep it quiet. How many do you need?"

"Five."

"I expect to see you shortly, Miss. Bulstrode. I will have you brought in myself if I don't see all of the eyes in the next twenty-four hours."

"Yes, sir."

When she arrived back at the pub, she saw that the rest of the house was on the edge of… something. At least Theo had made himself useful by organizing some of the younger students to watch the door and others to pool money to buy food from the pub. That seemed to have gone well enough; there were only the soggy ends of chips in curry sauce left by the time Bulstrode arrived.

Other than that, however, the mood was not good. Someone had found an early-breaking edition of the Daily Prophet, and the lists of the dead, wounded and arrested had struck far too close to home.

"I've been hoping for some good news, Mil," said Theo as she passed him his card. "The paper says he's dead."

"That's what Fawcett said, but I don't know."

"Listen, Mil. Something's going on in here. I keep seeing Aberforth tiptoeing around with bowls of soup and candy, and he's just terrible at sneaking, I think –"

"Don't care about soup, Theo. I've got to meet with the others."

As she walked through the crowd to slip a card to Daphne and Graham, she saw that Goyle had turned up from somewhere while she was gone, and was sitting against the wall with his head on his knees. His dad's name was in the paper, and it wasn't under 'Arrests.' Some of the kids were sobbing quietly in a corner. Fine, but Bulstrode didn't like the angry looks on some of the other faces. There was nothing else she could do about the eyes, for now; the three in the house had their cards, and she couldn't get to the two who were in other houses at the moment. Anyway, the situation here was more urgent.

Ever since third year, it was clear to her that the main job of Slytherin head of house was to keep the Slytherins occupied at all times. Professor Snape had a multifaceted approach of games, contests, assignments, extra lessons and impossibly high work standards that kept most of the house too busy to think of giving him trouble. But now it was clear that they were about to slide into a dangerous state of angry boredom unless someone did something at once.

"I call a House meeting!"

The passing of the motion against Pansy had lifted the mood of the room a fraction. Perhaps it was that they no longer had to listen to Pansy, or perhaps it was that something, anything, was finally happening. Now that the attention of the House was focused, it was time to bring them back to the agenda item that had caused the uproar in the first place.

"Has everybody seen the evidence in favor?" Bulstrode didn't really like speaking to a crowd, but it was marginally better now that they were paying attention.

"Yeah," said Harper, giving the mangled Prophet a push with his foot. "Don't know why we care, though."

"'Cause he's ours. We don't get another like that," said Daphne, angrily. There were some noises of agreement, particularly from the upper years.

"Floor is open to present evidence against –"

Quentin Bole was up before she finished. "No body," he declared.

"Paper says the Eaters took it," Blaise pointed out.

"Protocol, Zabini!"

"Point of Information," said Astoria, demonstrating the protocol, "Why would anyone drag around a body if they were running?"

"The paper does not explain that, which is why it is evidence against," said Bole.

"Point of Information," said Tracey, "did they name who took him… it?" She hadn't read the paper herself; she had been too intent on worrying over her graduate school applications.

"No, it's nothing but pure speculation. The paper presents no solid explanation for the lack of a body, just that some unnamed Eaters must have taken it."

"Why doesn't someone just ask them?" said Terry Higgs. Second-years always thought they were too good for protocol.

"You're out of order," said Bulstrode, "unless you propose the motion that someone go and ask them…"

"Uh, yeah, that's what I propose."

"The House will consider the motion: someone, Goyle, will go and ask all available Eaters if they took the body," said Bulstrode.

"What?" Goyle raised his head marginally off his knees. His voice was slurred and muffled, as if he were half-asleep.

"Greg, once you're arrested –"

"No!"

"Greg, you're getting arrested in a few hours. Once you're in, you can ask around."

His head back on his knees, his shoulders shook for a moment, but then the head moved in what might have been a nod.

"Once he's in, how does he get the information out?" asked Higgs.

"I'll visit," said Theo. Bulstrode had seen his father's name in the paper too, under arrests. He wouldn't just be visiting Goyle.

The motion passed easily without a 'nay.' Bole was ready with more evidence when Bulstrode reopened the floor.

"No portrait."

"Point of Information; the paper says it's because he left his post, so he was no longer Headmaster," Astoria pointed out.

Daphne jumped up before Bole could answer. "That's bollocks. Only the Board of Governors can remove an acting Headmaster after a formal hearing on misconduct. If a Headmaster wants to step down he has to submit a resignation in person or in writing to the Board. A professor can't just decide that a Headmaster has abdicated in absentia. It doesn't make sense: otherwise anyone who didn't like their contract could take over whenever they wanted." She sat with a smile that probably came as much from shutting down her sister as getting to show off her legal knowledge. Daphne had also apparently shut down any further points on Bole's evidence.

"Any more evidence?"

Sully Urquhart got up slowly, brushing off his trousers. There were a few groans. Once Urquhart started, he didn't stop until you had a whole lecture. He picked up the paper and refolded it neatly.

"Get on with it!" someone called.

Sully gave a deliberate cough and began. "To look for evidence for or against, how could we do better than to examine the testimony of the man of the hour, Mr. Harry Potter himself?"

There was a bit of hissing at that. Sully went on, undiscouraged. "Who would expect that his testimony presents such perfect evidence against?" Sully loved dramatic pronouncements, but the house was mostly immune to them by now.

"By his own words, this Potter simply watched him die without making any attempt to save or aid him. Note that, honorable members of the House!"

"Noted," said Harper dryly.

"And yet, in the same article, this same Potter admits that the Headmaster had, on more than one occasion, personally saved his life. His very words: 'I owe him my life.' There was a life debt between them, at least one, which Potter deliberately did not pay back."

"Point of Information," interrupted Astoria, "what if the Headmaster wasn't trying to save his life but just, uh, happened to whilst he was doing something else?" She looked hopeful.

"A life debt does not depend on the intentions of the creditor, but simply on the acknowledgement of the debtor that his life has been saved, and Potter clearly and publicly acknowledged that."

"Point of Information; how is that evidence of anything except that Potter's an arse?" asked Pritchard.

"What are the consequences for failing to pay a life debt?" said Sully.

"It's not a quiz, Sully. Get on," warned Bulstrode.

"The consequences vary by the severity of the failure to pay, but they usually include swift and severe nausea and vomiting, fever and headaches, followed by insomnia, depression and remorse lasting several weeks. In short, the body that owes the debt enters into revolt against the person who failed to pay it. And yet we see that this Potter is up and about and giving statements to reporters."

Sully's information was unquestionably good; contracts, oaths and debts were his specialty, as many of the lower years had found out the hard way.

"I therefore propose the motion: Potter should be sought out and observed firsthand to see if he is suffering any effects of a neglected life debt."

"Point of Information," said Daphne, "who?"

Bulstrode stepped in. "He dropped out. Won't recognize a first-year."

"Oh, Baby…" called Zabini.

The aforementioned 'Baby' looked up from where she was sitting among the rest of the first-years and blinked her large brown eyes innocently.

"That will do nicely, Baby," said Zabini.

"The House will consider the motion: Baby will take any steps necessary to observe Potter at close quarters and determine the state of his health. She will report this information back to the House."

Zabini gave Bulstrode a "seconded," and the motion sailed through. No one could think of any more evidence to present after that. Everything had gone smoothly so far, but Bulstrode knew the next item on the agenda would not pass so easily.

"The Prophet's crap. We need better evidence of what happened. I propose the motion: all honorable members of the House, with the exception of those who have urgent family commitments, will go back to the school and gather information under cover of helping the restoration."

In the silence that greeted that proposal, Pansy's voice rang out. "They'll murder us!"

"Shut up, Pantsy!" But there were no murmurs of agreement this time.

"We'll all follow first-year protocol: everyone will stay in groups of three to five at all times and watch for threats." There was silence to that too. Bulstrode crossed her arms. "Anyone who doesn't think they can manage will come up with an urgent family commitment! Or you can let the Ministry come up with one for you." There were a few nods. Finally they were getting the idea.

The vote was thirty-eight in favor, twenty against. Bulstrode expected at least twenty urgent family commitments. "We will adjourn for one week."

They were still cramped in a shabby room, with Aurors and who knew what hostile forces outside, but now there were a few secret smiles being traded. They had assignments and a plan.

A/N: This will be a two-shot story. The second, final chapter is already completed and will be posted in a few days or early next week once I finish typing and proofreading.

You could consider this story as an accompaniment to my story The New Skin, taking place concurrently with the first couple of chapters, but it could easily stand on its own as well.

Thank you for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think. I will respond to every review that I can.