Chapter 2: Dead Men Rise Up Never

The Gryffindor table clapped slowly and softly – no, this was not like them at all. Perhaps they are just confused by my lateness, I tried to convince myself.

I nearly kissed the person nearest to me when I saw that there was an empty spot next to Neville, between him and Seamus – the perfect excuse. Now I could sit with my friends without making Snape suspicious by having to show people out of the way.

I sat down casually, hearing half-hearted mumbles of welcome from around the table and nodding politely. It was all I could do not to completely smother them all in hugs; only about five people at the table were strangers to me, besides the First Years, and they were probably all former homeschoolers.

Seamus was next to me on my left side a few feet down, looking rather worse for wear, with huge bruises on his face and a still-healing lip. I could hear Kellah whispering something to Neville, and her voice made me remember the time we had written rude Christmas songs about Snape during Third Year, which she would later sing to me when I had nightmares and woke up screaming. Neville, oh Merlin, Neville even smelled amazing; like soil and plants and Butterbeer and the soft scent of a vaguely recognised cologne.

I tried to tune this out, trying to ignore all my friends being so close by and nearly looking through me, and listen to Snape's speech…

"Now that that little interruption is over," he sneered, standing before the staff table as if he had a right to be there – as if he were him. "I'll just finish our day's announcements, the last of which being that Educational Decrees numbers Nine, Twenty-Four, Twenty-Five, and Thirty have been reinstated." There were muffled groans from the students, but Snape snapped, "Silence!" and it was quiet.

Slowly Snape walked back to his seat – no, Dumbledore's seat. My hands clinched on the table. As soon as Snape hit the chair, food appeared on the tables.

This, at least, had not changed. I felt tears in my eyes just looking at the platters of food. Everyone's mood seemed to improve dramatically, and they all began chattering loudly – though still not loudly enough.

I grabbed everything I needed to create a traditional English dinner – I had been away for too long. Yorkshire pudding, steak and kidney pie, Sheppard's pie, Brussels sprouts, chicken, fish, and chips. I made certain not to get any peas, because the way I ate them would surely clue someone in, and unless it was Kellah or Neville or perhaps Parvati, something bad could happen. You never knew who might suddenly jump up and scream my name, and that would be it. No, I had to be very careful.

I ate as slowly as I could, just listening to them all. So many had died already in this war. To see any of them alive was like cool water on a burn – soothing, but with a sting that couldn't be ignored just beneath the surface. I took in Kellah and Neville's pointless conversation about Fainting Ficus eagerly. Just hearing their voices, sitting by them, was amazing.

But I wasn't going to keep this secret from them. They, Luna, Terry, and Michael would all know by this time next day. I trusted them with this easily, it was just a matter of getting the message through to them very subtlety.

Soon, desert appeared. I ignored the treacle tarts I wanted so badly and grabbed some sticky toffee pudding, cauldron cakes, and pumpkin pasties. Fruit had appeared as it always did with desert. This was my chance.

I waited until Neville and Kellah paused in their conversation, then reached towards the bowl of grapes by Neville's arm.

"Oh, green grapes." I said cheerfully. "I wonder if there are any pomegranates around…"

I heard Neville stifle a gasp, his body suddenly rigid, though he kept his eyes trained on his food for a moment until he was composed. Then, slowly, he turned towards me. His eyes held none of the indifference they had the last time he glanced at me; now, they were wide and excited, but at the same time afraid.

Slowly, slowly he repeated the next part of our code.

"I – I am weary of…days and hours…"

I smiled faintly at him, knowing this next line would be the deciding factor in whether I stayed at Hogwarts this year or made a run for it right now.

"Even the weariest river runs somewhere safe to sea."

Neville covered a sob with a loud cough, subtly drying his eyes while he coughed into his napkin for nearly a minute. Kellah hadn't heard our exchange, having been comforting a homesick First-Year on her other side, and patted him on the back gingerly.

Neville and I had invented this code in forth year; it was based off a poem we both loved called The Garden of Proserprine. Proserprine is another name for Persephone, the Greek goddess who married Hades, and contains both of the lines we spoke and a reference to green grapes. As Neville lowered his napkin and took a long drink of water before stuffing food in his mouth quickly, as if to make up for lost time, I saw him smiling so wide it hurt my cheeks, and then I realised it wasn't him smiling that I was feeling (of course); it was my own smile. I had forgotten what it felt like.

Neville nodded in Kellah's direction, and I saw his hands forming the I understand/We need to talk about this later gesture under the table; right thumb resting sideways on the left thumb and rubbing back and forth.

I turned back to my desert, contemplating how to tell Kellah, Luna, Terry, and Michael even as my face ached with the force of my smile.

This was already shaping up to be an interesting year.