Disclaimer: This story is based on the stories and characters created by JK Rowling, and inspired by the poems of T.S. Eliot. I do not own these characters or inspirational ideas, and no money is being made.
Chapter 4. Appeasing long forgotten wars
The sun was setting before I emerged from the room of requirement, and I was still unsure about how to proceed. I had folded and unfolded the flower so many times that the paper was frail and soft, but Amycus Carrow still flailed on the page. I wandered the castle for a while before retuning to my dormitory, hoping to get some sleep so I could wake up early and knock out my arithmancy homework. Upon entering the heads' common room, I was surprised to see all the prefects sitting around the oval meeting table, including Neville and Malfoy.
"Glad to see that you could finally make it," said Harper, smirking to show his crooked teeth. I hadn't realised he was made prefect, and the thought of it made my lips curl.
I dropped my book bag and cloak off on the hall tree. "I wasn't informed that there was a meeting tonight."
"Yes you were," Malfoy said, looking me dead in the eyes. "It was on the schedule I gave you."
"O yes, the poisoned schedule." I took the only empty seat, across from Malfoy and next to Neville.
The latter whispered in my ear, "I tried to remind you after DADA, but you sort of ran out of class. I'm sorry."
I patted his thigh. I didn't even look at the schedule. I gave it to Neville to share with the others. This kind of sloppiness wasn't going to help me in the long run, and right now I was just angry and embarrassed. I took some paper and began making notes, waving condescendingly at Malfoy to continue the meeting.
The meeting was nearly over, but the prefects were discussing rounds times, fighting over who would have to do evening rounds on Friday and such. I quickly gained control of the conversation, recording everyones wishes, requests, and organising a schedule that would suit everyone. It did require me taking the Friday evening rounds, but such is the price of leadership. Within ten minutes the meeting was finished, and even Harper was looking at me with admiration.
"You actually make a good head girl," Neville said, punching me on the arm. "You ruled that meeting with an iron fist."
I smiled at him and hugged him as he left, promising to hang out with Ginny and him tomorrow evening. When the door shut behind him, I realised that I was alone with Malfoy. He was pushing chairs in and tiding up the table. I took a deep breath and approached him.
"Why didn't you tell me there was a meeting tonight?"
He glared at me, but continued to organise papers. "I did. It was on the schedule I gave you. It isn't my fault you didn't read it." A hateful smirk grew on his face.
"You wanted me to miss this meeting," I hissed. "You wanted me to look bad in front of the prefects. You're trying to undermine my authority, but it won't work."
Malfoy filed away the papers, then circled the table to face me. "Look at you? It's your first day on the job and you're already shit scared, completely paranoid that I am after your already pathetic reputation, and you've threatened my life. I don't think this is a good start to the year for you."
"I don't care what you think? You're a death eater. You're an accomplice in the murder of Albus Dumbledore. All you are is a pawn in a game."
His face contorted into one I had never seen before. Arrogant Malfoy was gone, replaced by a mask of rage and fear. "I am no one's pawn," He whispered, before stalking off the spiral staircase that lead to his room. "Don't be late again!" he shouted to me before slamming his door.
I picked up my bag from the hall tree and slouching into the sofa with a particular self-righteous anger. It was easy to push his buttons, and it felt good to make him angry.
The next morning, I woke up early to get a head start on some work, and ended up with enough time to take a long hot shower before breakfast. As I was getting out, wrapping my body in a plush red towel, I looked at myself in the foggy mirror. My dark hair was waving over my shoulders, and I pulled at the skin around my eyes. They were amber in colour, and were the one feature of my appearance about which I was vain. Uncle Ollivander had described them as hypnotic once, and I liked to pretend that I could cast spells and hexes just by imagining what I wanted to happen. Malfoy pounded on the door that lead to his room. I waited for a minute to see if he would quit, but he grew more insistent. I unlocked the door, and it just about burst open. He was wearing a long sleeved black shirt and green pajama trousers. His hair stuck up at the back and his eyes were red rimmed.
"Do you mind?" he said in his classic drawl. "You're not the only one with classes to attend."
"Not at all," I said, toothbrush in mouth, waving him inside.
He glowered at me and began washing his pasty face. "I don't get what Blaise sees in you."
I spit out my toothpaste. "Zabini said something about me?"
"It's pathetic, really. He is so bored he will fixate on inconsequential details like yourself."
"Zabini said something about me." I smiled at myself in the mirror. Malfoy turned to the toilet, then glared at me.
"Get out."
I grimaced at him and gave him his privacy.
Muggle studies with Alecto Carrow was as despicable as DADA, and again there were assigned seats. I was in the back this time between Goyle and a girl from Ravenclaw, with Malfoy and Zabini in front of me. I had a hard time keeping my eyes off the darker boy. Between the boy I despised and the boy who made me so curious, I struggled to concentrate on anything else, and I wanted something else anything else to focus on.
I cuddled with Ginny in the Gryffindor common room later.
"George said to tell you he is sorry about Malfoy, and that he is sending you something to make your burden lighter."
I chuckled, my head in Ginny's lap. "Do I want to know what it is?"
"Probably not, but he didn't tell me, so I'm no help."
I had always admired the Weasley twins, and was one of the few outside of their family that could easily tell them apart. Late in fourth year George and I began dating, and only broke up when he and Fred decided it was time they moved on to bigger and better things beyond their education. We were still good friends, as I had learned so much from him and he was ever so handy when it came to plotting vengeance.
I sighed and sat up. "I should talk to George more."
"I agree. He is going to be a lot of help in getting the DA organised since we don't have Harry, Hermione, or Ron."
"The DA?"
"Yeah. You were totally right about defence this year. It's a total bust, and more than ever we need to be learning to defend ourselves."
"Who is going to teach?"
"Me."
I raised my eyebrows at her. "You?" Ginny is an excellent witch, but she's no Harry Potter.
"Me, you, Neville, Luna. Everyone. We're going to teach each other."
"It's not going to be enough."
"No, but it's something." She put her hand on my shoulder. "Why are you so hopeless? You know we are going to win. There is no other option."
The fire in the hearth crackled and leaped upward hypnotically. It whispered to me 'tell her the truth'. I shook my head and once again, I chose not to think. The easy way is often times the best. "You're right." I smiled at Ginny, watching the glow of the fire bounce off her hair and eyes. "So, we should get in touch with Fred and George, see if they have any thoughts. And maybe some members of the order?"
"In code, of course."
The news about the reformation of the DA had already began to disperse when I was once again entering the DADA classroom. I had been confirming the rumour with Seamus before situating myself between Parkinson and Zabini.
Carrow lectured us for the whole of the class time on severe hexes and minor curses, many of which I already knew, but it wasn't comforting to know that now others knew them too. He conveniently didn't mention anything about counter curses.
"For class next Monday, I want you all to work with your partner on a report on a minor curse. 20 inches. Your partner is the person you are sitting next to."
I rolled my eyes at the ambiguity, and turned first to Parkinson. She looked back at me, muddy brown eyes filled with disgust. I stuck my tongue out at her, and turned to Zabini.
"Shall we?"
He looked at me out of the corner of his eyes, and pursed his lips almost into a smile.
"Do you think Carrow wants us to curse each other to gain personal experience for this report?"
"I'm sure he would find that sort of initiative admirable, and I'd be happy to curse you."
I grinned at him. "You're such a good friend to me, Zabini."
