Chapter Six: New Divide
I didn't see Harry until Transfiguration that week. The Gryffindors seemed to be more cohesive than ever since the Goblet of Fire incident, sitting together on one half of the room and not allowing any of the Ravenclaws to sit next to them. I craned my neck in an effort to make meaningful eye contact with Harry, but he didn't look my way.
When class was dismissed, I fought to make my way over to Harry as the students poured from the classroom. I had just neared the crowd of Gryffindors when a snide voice raised above the general ruckus.
"Hey, Potter!"
Michael Corner had pulled out a "Support Cedric Diggory" badge and was making an obvious fuss about pinning it to the front of his robes. He pressed on it, and the badge flashed "Potter Stinks."
"Catch!" he called tauntingly, tossing another badge into the air. A few Ravenclaws were sniggering. The Gryffindors grumbled unappreciatively. The badge soared in a graceful arc toward Harry before exploding mid-flight.
The students fell into a confused silence. They shifted, looking wildly around the corridor for the cause of the explosion, their eyes falling eventually on me. I stowed away Dad's wand without any trace of haste and threw a look at Ravenclaws and Gryffindors alike that caused them to back away as I made my exit. No one spoke as I passed, the hem of my robes trailing in my wake.
I kept clenching and unclenching my hands as I thought furiously: Had the fluke with the Goblet of Fire really shattered all school unity? Was everyone going to take sides over this? And to my consternation, a single glance around the courtyard answered this question:
In the weak November sunlight, the students were divided into groups according to Houses. If they weren't, they were divided by the Champion they supported. Gryffindors stood alone, which had typically been the role of the Slytherins. The Hufflepuffs clearly stood behind their champion, decking themselves in their House colors. Ravenclaw, like the Slytherins, did nothing more than sport "Support Cedric Diggory" badges.
I scowled.
Lost in my thoughts and busy glaring at the school at large, I didn't hear my name being called until it was right in my ear.
"Thanks," Harry said shortly, leaning against the column I was standing next to. He was alone.
"Huh? Oh, right. Forget it."
"You all right?" He sounded both tired and concerned.
"I should be asking you that," I said, ignoring his question.
Harry turned away. "I didn't put my name in the—"
"I know."
He whirled to face me again.
"You believe me?" he blurted.
"Of course I do. Why shouldn't I?"
Harry looked as though he might explode from gratitude.
"Thank you."
"What, not enough support from the Gryffindors?" I joked.
"Oh. Them. Sorry. I don't know what's gotten into them. There was a huge celebration that night. And yet Ron doesn't believe me. We haven't spoken all week. Everything is just so turned around."
"Ron? Really?"
"Yeah," Harry muttered darkly.
"And Hermione?"
"She's fine."
"That's good."
We looked out over the courtyard at the new divide.
"This tournament should have united all of Hogwarts. Now look what it's done," I said softly.
"You mean what I've done?" Harry said bitterly.
"No. You didn't do this," I said immediately and more harshly than I had intended.
"You're right. Someone else did," he said, shifting against the column.
I paused, considering. "You think so?"
"It has to be," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Any ideas who?"
"Aside from Voldemort? Not a clue." He glanced at me, seeming to expect a reaction to the uttering of You-Know-Who's name, but I just stared openly back.
"Could it really be him?" I said, my voice sounding smaller than I wanted it to.
"Who knows? It wouldn't be the first time he found a way to get to me here at school," Harry said bitterly.
"Really?" I said, turning away from the courtyard to face him properly, feeling nervous about this bit of information. "He's been here? Does the staff know?"
"Of course they do. My first year here, he attached himself to one of the professors. He was too weak to have a body of his own," Harry recalled.
"What happened?" I asked uneasily. "Obviously you're still around."
"Yeah, well, I managed to hold him off until Dumbledore showed up. But he came back my second year. Sort of. This old journal he used to keep while he was at school here showed up, and a part of him sort of reanimated, I suppose. He reopened the Chamber of Secrets, which had a giant basilisk hidden inside. It managed to petrify quite a few people before I killed it."
"You killed a basilisk?" I asked, impressed.
Harry ducked his head modestly.
"Wow. That's quite an accomplishment."
"Everyone thought I was the Heir of Slytherin that year, though. They thought it was me petrifying those people."
"What? How could they think—"
"Because I can talk to snakes. Apparently. That was a bit of a shock for me as well," Harry cut in.
"Oh, yeah, that might throw people off," I said honestly, looking back out over the courtyard.
"Does it bother you?" he asked, looking concerned.
I shook my head. "I've found weirder things in life." I turned back to him with a smile and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You wouldn't do that to anyone."
"Miss Evans," came a gruff voice from nearby.
It was Professor Moody; he was holding out my wand.
My wand.
"Thank Merlin," I whispered, feeling the warmth of the cedar wood when my fingertips came in contact with it. I gripped it firmly, and silver and white sparks danced at the wand's tip. I let out a relieved sigh.
"The Aurors weren't able to find any concrete evidence on it. Oh, and your mother has requested you send her your father's wand immediately," Moody growled.
"What?" I snapped.
But I knew it was no use arguing; I let out a frustrated huff of air. "Of course she does."
"You'll send it to her, then?"
I glared at Moody's wooden leg before nodding obediently.
"Good." And Moody stalked off, clunking on every other step.
That same week, Moody asked me to stay after class. Grimacing, I stayed in my seat while my fellow Ravenclaws dispersed.
"I was just checking to see how you were doing. Dumbledore says I should get reports from you every once in a while to see how things are going for you, considering the stress you're under" Moody grunted from across the classroom. I remained firmly seated.
"Oh. Right."
Moody raised an expectant eyebrow.
"Oh, uh…fine. Everything's fine," I lied.
"If you're going to lie to me, do it properly," Moody said sharply. I stared at him for a moment before making my face appropriately blank.
"Everything's fine," I said steadily.
"Much better. Now, how are things actually going?"
I sighed. "What do you want to know?"
"Have you written home yet?"
I hesitated.
"No," I said truthfully. "But I did send Dad's wand to Mother."
Moody considered this before moving on.
"Making friends?"
"What? Oh, uh…I suppose."
"How are classes?"
"Are they paying you extra to play therapist?" I said suddenly, taking myself by surprise.
Moody raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. "Any favorite or least favorite professors?"
I gave in. "Not particularly…Professor Flitwick seems kind enough. Although Professor Snape is one that I haven't been able to decide on at all. He keeps confusing me."
"Hm…has Snape been acting peculiarly toward you?"
"A bit, I suppose. He awarded me points one time, which was a shock since I'm not in Slytherin."
"I see…" Moody looked as though he were lost in thought. "I wonder…"
"Professor? Is that all?" I asked hopefully.
"Harry Potter."
"What about him?" I said, glancing to the door, wanting very much to leave.
"Has he confided in you at all about the Triwizard Tournament?" Both of Moody's eyes were on me now.
"Er—yeah. Why?"
"Nothing. Just wondering if he'll be able to get what he needs for the first task."
I frowned. "What?"
"You keep me posted on anything unusual, all right?" Moody said swiftly, backing toward his office.
"Sure," I said warily as he disappeared through the door, leaving me standing in the now-empty Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom feeling more than a little confused.
I was up late that night in the Ravenclaw Common Room mulling things over. Luna had gone to bed some time ago, leaving me alone, staring unblinkingly into the fire and reflecting on what Moody had said. I twirled my wand absently in my fingers.
"Have you written home yet?" he had asked.
I glanced down at my bag suddenly as though it had bit me. Compulsively, I reached over and pulled out a piece of parchment, a bottle of ink, and my quill. I stared at the parchment for a long time, wondering what could be driving me to do what I was about to do.
Dear Mother, I wrote slowly.
I stared at those words for even longer than I had stared at the blank parchment. She probably didn't care that I hadn't written her. She hadn't written me, that was for sure. And it was already November. Why now?
I looked up abruptly when the entrance door opened. It was rather late now, and I was one of very few people still left in the common room. Who could be entering the Tower at this hour?
"Good evening, Miss Evans!" came a squeaky voice.
"Professor Flitwick! Good evening, sir," I said, straightening in my seat and turning to face him.
"Would you come over here a moment?" he asked kindly. I stood immediately and walked over to where he was standing next to the announcement board. I dropped to one knee next to him as he handed me a sheet of parchment with a gesture to hang it up where he couldn't reach.
"What's this?" I asked, reading the title of Got Talent?
"There's going to be a major event later this year, and Dumbledore gave me permission to assemble a group to perform at it!" Flitwick said excitedly. "I can't tell you what it's for yet, but whoever makes it is in for a real treat. Are you musical, Miss Evans?"
"It's been known to happen," I said, catching onto his excitement with a grin. "What kind of group is it?"
"Well, it's a bit different than the choir I run, so it's a new area for me. This one is going to be a rock band, like the kinds that most of the students listen to. Guitar, bass, keyboard, drums, vocals, you know, that sort of thing. And it'll be four students, one from each House."
"Oh, that's good! I think inter-House unity needs to be emphasized, especially now when we have visitors from other schools."
"I quite agree. It's hard to be united when there are two Hogwarts champions, don't you think?"
I nodded fervently in agreement.
"Do you think this might be something students would be interested in?" Flitwick asked seriously.
"Of course! I know I'll go for it."
"Will you?" Flitwick said, smiling widely.
"Yeah!" I said honestly, rising to post the parchment to the announcement board.
And, still smiling, Flitwick departed.
I glanced again at the parchment with a smile. If there wasn't going to be Quidditch, at least there was something for me to try out for.
With a yawn, I turned back to the table. The letter to my mother was still sitting there. My yawn ended in a groan; I stared at it for a moment before crushing it in my hands and hurling it across the common room and into the fire.
###
There was less than a week left before the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, and the students seemed to be quivering with excitement, gossiping loudly about their guesses as to what the task would entail. I hadn't bothered to speculate, but what I had read on the history of the Triwizard Tournament made me even more worried for Harry.
"Sam!"
I whirled at the urgency in the person's voice. Harry was rushing toward me, Hermione in tow.
"What is it?" I asked as he grasped my upper arm and pulled me off to the side of the corridor.
"Dragons."
"What?" I asked, looking between Harry and Hermione, not understanding.
"The first task," Harry said, a look of mild terror in his eyes, "is dragons."
"What!" I exclaimed. "You have to get past a dragon?" I repeated, still disbelieving.
But when Harry nodded, I let go of my incredulity.
"Hold on. Hold on. Let me think." I shut my eyes and racked my brain and everything I knew about dragons. I had seen a few during my travels, but never had I needed to know how to get past one.
"What am I supposed to do?" Harry said, his voice shaking slightly. I reached out and put a hand on his shoulder to calm him.
"We'll figure this out. Trust me, Harry."
Hermione chimed in. "There are options, but whether or not they are capable of being taught to a fourth year with limited magical experience is a different story. Any helpful form of transfiguration would be far too complicated, and dragons are very difficult to take out because of their thick hide."
"So distraction and an offensive attack are out of the question. Good."
"Good?" Harry spluttered incredulously. I opened my eyes to look at him comfortingly, sensing his bewildered agitation.
"Harry, it's a matter of deducing. By eliminating what is not an option, we eventually find the answer."
Harry was staring at me like I had lost my mind. He glanced at Hermione, who was gazing at me with an approving look on her face. He shook his head and looked away.
I scanned my surroundings, looking for something to spark some idea. The pressure to think of something was mounting, and it spawned a giddy excitement in me; this was a pressure I knew I could handle. I watched as students were making their way to and from classes, chatting unconcernedly to each other about such trivial matters in comparison to what was on my mind at the moment. Down the corridor there was a small cluster of professors talking quietly to each other. I spotted Moody leaning heavily on his staff, and that's when his words came back to me about Harry getting what he needs.
"Got it!" I practically shouted, flinging my arms in the air energetically.
"What?" Harry and Hermione said together.
"And we've been learning it in Charms, too! Oh, brilliant!" I said, gesticulating.
"What is it?" Hermione pressed.
I turned to face them, grinning.
"You better be as good a flier as everyone says you are, Harry."
"Why?" he asked, looking entirely lost.
"Think about it! You've got your wand, so use it to get what you need!"
Hermione grinned as she caught on.
"Wait, so what am I doing?" said Harry, looking between the two of us.
"Harry," Hermione said, taking Harry by the elbow and guiding him to an empty classroom. "It's time we perfected your Summoning charm."
###
The day before the first task, I found myself in a very crowded room awaiting my turn for the audition Professor Flitwick had told me about. I was surprised by the number of students who had shown up. My honest guess was that most weren't very talented, but were, rather, enamored with the idea of being in a band. A group of younger Hufflepuff students were giggling loudly to each other in one corner, talking about what they would do when they got the part. I shook my head, amused, and looked elsewhere.
There didn't appear to be any Slytherins at the moment, which saddened me. But even as the thought crossed my mind, a Slytherin boy slipped silently into the room. He looked as though he didn't want to be seen. He scanned the room, spotted the empty chair next to me, and made his way over to it.
"Is anyone sitting here?" he asked hesitantly.
"No, please," I said, gesturing. He sat, looking around at the group. He seemed utterly relieved that there were no other Slytherins around.
"I'm Terence Higgs," he said, offering his hand. And pleasantly surprised, I shook it.
"Sam Evans," I said. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise."
A small group of Gryffindors were looking at the Slytherin with distaste. Sparing them nothing more than an unapproving glare, I turned to face Terence.
"What do you play?" I asked.
"Piano. My mum taught me. She also taught me to sing. You?"
"Well, I've learned few instruments in my life, but guitar is my favorite. That's what I'm auditioning on today, anyway. And vocals. What are you going to perform?"
"Oh, just this piece I wrote. It's nothing special."
"You compose? That's so cool! I'm a bit of a lyricist myself, but I've never been very accomplished at writing music to go with it. Can I hear a bit of it?"
"Sure," said Terence, glancing around shyly.
We leaned closer together and he began singing softly.
I see your face in my dreams
A perfect life, or so it seems
A thousand worlds shine in your eyes
A thousand wishes echo in my mind
I can't help reaching out to you
A heart filled with all that's true
And you still don't have a clue…
Terence drifted off uncertainly, chancing a glance at me.
"Wow," I breathed. "Terence…that was…magnificent."
"Really? You think so?"
"Absolutely!" I said, still breathless. "And your voice is spectacular!"
"Thank you," said Terence, blushing modestly. "So, uh, what are you auditioning with?"
"Oh goodness, nothing quite so amazing. It's just a little something; you probably know it."
I started singing quietly. Terence smiled as he recognized the popular tune and joined in. Grinning, we sang with a little more gusto, breaking into harmony and descant and crescendoing until the entire room heard us and fell silent. We weaved in and out of the melody, switching parts so easily it sounded like we had been rehearsing together since we were young as opposed to having just met. We were both grinning enthusiastically. And when we were done, we glanced around curiously at the room.
A single person began clapping. Professor Flitwick was standing in the doorway, applauding wildly. The rest of the room soon joined in, and Terence and I swapped embarrassed smiles. As the applause died away, I noticed quite a few students exiting the room, looks of utter defeat etched on their faces. I threw them an apologetic look, but they ignored it.
"Terence," I said, clapping him on the shoulder. "It's been a pleasure meeting you."
