Out of the Light into the Shadows

A/N: Written for the International Wizarding School Championship, round 7

School: Beauxbatons

Year: 4

Theme: Secrecy Era (1692 – 1880) - story set in September 1692

Main Prompt: [Event] Statute of Secrecy

Additional Prompts: [Weather] Thunderstorm; [Quote] "Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." - MLK Jr.

Word count: 2528

The heavy clouds rolled over the highlands, blocking out the late summer sun and plunging the land into dark shadows.

A storm was coming.

Astrid watched, safely tucked away indoors, as it hovered ominously over the Hogwarts grounds. She liked thunderstorms; she enjoyed watching them and listening to them, but she didn't particularly enjoy getting caught in them. Unfortunately for her, though, there was an entirely different kind of storm brewing within the walls of the castle and she was right in the middle of it.

"I can't believe they're going through with it," Cassius Malfoy screeched, not for the first time. Nor for the last, of this Astrid was certain.

"It's for the greater good, my love," she said absently. She knew that arguing was futile; Cassius was not a very good listener at the best of times and this was not the best of times.

The heavens could no longer hold it in and many angry tears pelted down onto the school, drumming a violent little melody against the glass panes of the window that Astrid was gazing out of.

Castor Black scoffed. He was a disagreeable boy and far too arrogant for a mere fourth year. "It isn't for our greater good. It's clear that this is to protect those filthy Muggles. I say we forget about their welfare. The wizarding governments should be looking out for our best interests, not theirs!"

Many cheered their agreement and Castor preened, but the first clap of thunder drowned out the bulk of their cries of approval. The storm mustn't have been of the same mind.

The entirety of Hogwarts' Pure-blood Society Club had gathered in an old classroom to discuss current affairs, namely the official enactment of the International Statute of Secrecy. They had transfigured the desks and chairs into couches and armchairs to make for a more comfortable meeting space and House-elves had delivered platters of appetizers which floated lazily around the room. The seventh years were leading the conversation, but Astrid's attention was held by the sky above. It was getting darker by the second.

"That's right," shouted Henric Yaxley, his booming voice competing with the rumbling of the storm. "Why should the Muggles' needs be placed above our own? We're the ones with magic, not them. We are the superior beings. Why should we be the ones forced to hide like mice in the shadows?"

More shouting. How easy it was to rile up a crowd… But their outrage could not dull the fact that they all knew the answer to Henric's rhetorical question: wizard-kind was outnumbered, tens of thousands to one. Even if they were to organize a worldwide attack, in the face of such a horde, they could do nothing but lose.

Those were their only two options: fight back and perish or skulk in the shadows like lesser beings. Astrid let the weather express her emotions for her. The clouds billowed and grew with no clear intention of departing any time soon. The thunder roared, and its echoes ran through her. But she remained still and silent. When one was not a force of nature, it did not do to rant and rave so publicly; control and composure were the foundations of her upbringing and she would uphold them regardless of the situation. But calm demeanour or not, she was no happier about this turn of events than her classmates were.

She was no Gryffindor. She did not value bravery and courage above all else. Yet this felt unspeakably cowardly. They were being told to hide, to cower, to bow their heads and slink away where they would not be noticed. They were being taught to fear.

Already Hogwarts had put up wards and enchantments to keep its presence a secret from the Muggles, already its professors were teaching its students discretion and warning them of the consequences if they should fail at it. Astrid's parents were moving out of the house that their family had called home for centuries, as were so many other wizards and witches, going to where they were unknown with a clean slate and clear orders to keep their presence a secret. The magical community was turning in on itself, learning to be self-sufficient and invisible to the outside world. Learning to disappear.

The storm was directly overhead now and the thunder shook the castle walls, making sure that they all felt its wrath.

It was the Muggles who were afraid. Those vulgar mud monkeys who reacted violently to anything they did not understand, to anyone who was different. They were warmongers, bloodthirsty and battle ready every single one of them. Born to fight, bred to die. They needed a cause to rally their troops, something to fight against, be it magic, or religion, or race, or nationality… it didn't matter to them, so long as they had someone to direct their bottomless pit of anger at. They knew nothing but war. Since the dawn of time, conflict had been their favourite pastime. They would have wiped themselves out eons ago if they weren't so enthusiastic about procreating. Multiplying and spreading like an infection.

Thunder clapped and the window rattled, glass cracking from the force of it.

Cassius and Henric were still going at it, bouncing ideas back and forth regarding the inferiority of the Muggles, as though the Malfoys hadn't frequently associated with aristocratic Muggles before the Statute was signed, as though the Yaxley family's fortune had not been won through clever business transactions with Muggles. They were above all that now. The Muggles had made it clear that they wanted nothing to do with magic, and wizard-kind had enough pride not to dwell where they were not wanted.

"They aren't worth the air they breathe," proclaimed Henric. "They're nothing more than filthy animals. We are naturally above them."

Astrid was about to drown him out again, he wasn't saying anything she didn't already know and there was a far more interesting storm brewing outside. But then quiet words cut through the crowd.

"You're wrong."

As one every student turned toward that gentle voice at the back of the room. Even Astrid looked away from her window. Odelia Macmillan, a sixth year Hufflepuff, sat in a small armchair, straight-backed with her hands resting demurely on her lap. She was a tiny, little thing with mousy blonde hair and watery eyes, and Astrid could not remember ever hearing her speak before now.

"What was that?" asked Cassius. His voice oozed all of its usual charm, but his smile held a menacing glint.

"You're wrong," Odelia said again and Astrid could not help but feel a glimmer of respect for the girl for not backing down. "Our magic does not make us superior to Muggles, just as their numbers and weapons do not make them superior to us."

"Well if they don't think themselves superior then why are we hiding?" said Henric with a nasty sneer.

Odelia ignored his disparaging smile, but seemed to waver with so many eyes on her. "Because they aren't ready to understand us yet."

Cassius scoffed, and it was the least dignified sound he had ever made. "You readily admit that they are not evolved enough to accept us, yet claim that they are not inferior. You contradict yourself, and you shouldn't waste our time with your silliness."

The room sniggered and laughed and mocked, and Odelia's fair skin reddened and her eyes watered further. But there was a spark there that Astrid had caught sight of. It was enough to draw her attention away from the storm and have her wishing to see it again.

"Let her speak," she said, barely raising her voice above a whisper, but still everyone heard and silence fell heavily on the classroom.

Cassius looked at her uncertainly. She seldom participated in these gatherings and when she did it was only a throwaway comment, either agreeing with him or tempering his anger. This was something new. "My love?"

"I wish to hear what she has to say," she said, not bothering to turn her focus away from the girl who was now looking down at her lap, wide-eyed and fearful.

"Why?" Henric sneered, and at that Astrid's gaze snapped toward him. He had the good sense to take a step away from her and look regretful at his choice of tone.

"Am I required to explain myself to you, Yaxley?" she said very quietly.

He dropped his gaze and shook his head; a common reaction for those faced with her icy glare.

Astrid disliked a great many things about her family – the inbreeding and self-indulgent tendencies being at the forefront – but she had to admit that its reputation did come in useful from time to time.

The Gaunts were rumoured to be descendants of Salazar Slytherin himself. This rumour was in fact very much true, but Astrid did not feel the need to prove it to her classmates. Their speculations and imagination were far too amusing. Still, that kind of ancestry, whether it be real or merely believed to be so, drew a lot of attention and a lot of fear. Astrid had no friends at Hogwarts because the minute her fellow students found out her surname, they tended to steer clear. Of course, there were also those who wished to integrate themselves into her family's favour and share in its fame. As such, Astrid's father had gotten many generous offers for her hand, including the Malfoys'. A few generations ago, the Gaunts wouldn't have considered accepting a single one of them, but then again, at the time, the family vault at Gringotts was full to the brim. Now the gold had run out and desperate times called for desperate measures, hence her engagement to Cassius.

Speaking of which, he was giving her an odd look. She didn't need Legilimency to know what he was thinking – he was far too transparent for his own good. He disapproved of her embarrassing his friend; he wanted to tell her off and make her apologize, but something held him back. Because deep beneath that pride and arrogance, he too was afraid of her and that gave her more power than he would ever care to admit.

She waited until he started to fidget before looking away from him and back at Odelia whose face had suddenly drained of colour. Astrid waved for her to continue. It took the little Hufflepuff a couple of minutes to regain her thoughts, but no one dared to speak as she did so.

"Muggles aren't ready to accept us yet," she said, not quite managing to work up the nerve to look at Astrid directly, "but neither are we ready to accept them. If anything, everything you've said in the past half hour proves that." She looked up at Cassius and Henric who were both glaring at her, but she was undeterred. "You insist that they're inferior. You dismiss their accomplishments. You reduce them to nothing but savages. You call them grotesque aberrations. Which is exactly how they see us. We aren't better than them, nor are they better than us. We are all just as bad as each other."

"What do you suggest we do about it?" asked Astrid, watching the girl intently.

Odelia squirmed under her scrutiny, but finally succeeded in looking her in the eye, and as she did so the first flash of lightning lit up the entire room. "Darkness cannot drive out darkness," she said, "only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."

"Poetic," Astrid mused, wondering how Odelia had timed it so perfectly. Or perhaps it was the storm's doing, purposefully lending credence to the small girl's statement. "Tell me, how can we love the Muggles into accepting us for what we are if we cannot reveal our true natures?"

A fire burned in Odelia's eyes. She sat straighter, held her chin higher, and looked at Astrid in a way that no one had ever looked at her before: with a note of challenge and defiance, and for the first time in her life, Astrid didn't feel cold-blooded.

"It doesn't matter if they don't know what we are," said Odelia. "We show them kindness and we help them, and as we do that we learn to understand them and accept them as they are. And when the time comes for them to find out what we are, they will remember our kindness, they will remember every time we helped them, and they will not turn their backs on us again."

Her eyes gleamed and her face was flushed, but not from embarrassment or fear, and suddenly she was breathtaking. Confidence suited her well.

"Is that what you think?" Astrid asked, enjoying the insolent set of the Hufflepuff's jaw. "You're very naive."

"You're very cynical," said Odelia without pause. Her gaze flickered and she almost looked like she regretted the impulsive taunt. Almost.

The entire room was holding its breath; even the storm had quietened, waiting for Astrid's reaction, but the one she gave was not the one they were expecting. She felt a smile touch her lips. Not a sneer nor a smirk, an actual smile.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see which of us is right," she said. "How long do you suppose that will take?"

Odelia shrugged, her earlier uncertainty slipping away. "A few lifetimes."

"We are to hide away in the shadows for centuries?" Astrid asked, raising her brows.

Another delicate shrug and suddenly Odelia's eyes were on hers again, insistent and sure. "We have a lot to learn, as do the Muggles, but we will see the light again."

Lightning flashed once more as she said it, and Astrid believed this to be conclusive evidence. Twice in a row was too much to be a coincidence. So the storm did agree with the little Hufflepuff. How fascinating…

Astrid waited a week before she called off her engagement to Cassius. She'd found that she'd lost interest in him, and her father was not well enough to argue the matter with her, not long-distance anyway. But his letters did promise a great variety of torture he had devised specifically for her for when she returned home.

She did not feel the need to inform him that she would not be going back home, though, and nor did she tell her brother. Her intentions would not be well met by either, and she did not much feel like getting into a duel over the matter. Her family had nothing left to offer her: no money, no safety, and the notion that there might be any love there was laughable. She felt no qualms in leaving all of that behind. In fact, she found the whole thing quite exciting, an emotion she was starting to get used to and even enjoy. Her family's reputation would take a hit, and her actions may cause the Gaunts' total financial ruin, but she couldn't find it within herself to care.

Her eyes caught on Odelia entering the Great Hall.

After all, she had more intriguing interests to pursue elsewhere.