Chapter 7: Armies Massing

Sitting at the Slytherin table, Constance plows through her porridge and enjoys the thick aroma of vegemite on two pieces of toast. Reading the latest issue of the Quibler, she can't wait for the weekend to arrive so she can resupply her sweets cabinet, and purchase a few more pairs of tights and long socks for the coming winter. Having endured the previous year in long robes and dresses, she was too well insulated to be aware of how cold her legs could get. With her shorter skirts, she was now keenly aware of the nippy temperatures, and wisely imagined investing in a few more. Flipping through the pages, she hardly notices the arrival of her Slytherin gang who sit on either side of her. Mildrew, unimpressed with Constance's reading selection sighs dramatically grabbing her elder's attention from the paper. Constance replies flatly to her two cohorts.

"You know, I felt the same way when I first read the Quibler. I didn't see the point in the garbage and senseless references to non-existing creatures. Then one day, it occurred to me that if I wanted to make snide comments and derogatory statements about a virtually tyrannical government, this would be the way to do it. It's not easy to figure out who he's talking about most of the time; but when I occasionally do, I realize how amazing it is he hasn't been shut down by the ministry. This guy is a genius, and probably only a minute few realize it. For instance, the Quibler insists Cornelius Fudge has an army of Heliopaths at his disposal…"

In a chiding tone Charlotte bays out, "What are Heliopaths?"

Mildrew laughs. "Some mythical fire giants or something."

Constance shoos them to be quiet. "…anyways, I took that as complete garbage until I saw him use another reference to Heliopaths in another story about someone else, a reporter I think, "riding one." You see? Heliopaths are just another name for something else, that he dare not say openly or he might get arrested for heresy, or just pissing off Fudge, or the ministry. I think Heliopaths are just another name for political spin-doctors, who warp the truth and dictate what's printed in the official ministry papers."

Charlotte is the first to start putting things together. "So…he has a lot of people altering the truth in the Daily Prophet?"

Unconvinced, Mildrew thumbs through the paper stopping on breeding levels of the Grassy Barksniggles and Foomongers. With a mischievous grin Constance continues.

"Ah! Yah, this one took me the longest to figure out. I still don't know who he's referencing, but he warns of the growing numbers of one, but neutrally mentions the numbers of the other. These are secret organizations and the membership numbers of the groups; which groups I have no idea. He openly warns that the Barksniggles have dangerously high breeding numbers this year, while the Foomongers are elevated as well. He's openly telling the public to beware of this group, because it is getting higher membership numbers while mentioning another group…possibly it antecedent…is also growing in numbers as well. I won't lie to you two, this stuff is a bit over my head; but it's starting to make sense. All of this is presented in a completely wonky insane manner that no sane person would take serious; and no court could dare try and prosecute someone with this evidence. You see the genius at work here? He's posting the truth in fictitious terms and references, to protect his sources, while letting his wise audience know about the real truth the Daily Prophet can't or won't print."

Still unconvinced due to years of chiding by the wizarding world, Charlotte and Mildrew take it with a grain of salt, and eat breakfast alongside their mentor. As they break up for the day, Charlotte borrows the Quibler to peruse, attempting to see what Constance sees. Constance meanders through the Slytherin Dungeon helping the lower classes, and Professor Snape and McGonagall appear and pull her aside. Professor Snape drones out his displeasure first.

"First, whenever you have a disagreement with another professor, you are to come to your respective house teacher! I might be able to talk to them, and come to an amicable solution."

Professor McGonagall quickly follows him up. "Precisely! In this case though, it had to be taken up with the Headmaster and the Ministry. The Foreign Student Act of 1902 isn't something which can just be altered by the Ministry of Magic, like some professors believe. It's an international accord, which took years to debate, just to come to a singular agreement for ALL countries involved. To alter any part of it, threatens the education and membership of key British students around the world. As both an American and Australian resident, you have dual student status, affording you protection not from one, but two powerful nations. Furthermore, your extensive knowledge in potions and being Professor Snape's aide, affords you the right to be an authorized tutor for potions. I only ask you keep it in well ventilated and vacant areas, when not covering academic areas."

Snape gets the last word. "With all that said, it is apparent that Professor Umbridge has a strong dislike towards you, so she might go to extraordinary means to get you dispelled. From now on, any and all encounters are to be reported to me FIRST, or Professor McGonagall. Is that understood?" His characteristic emphasis in his tone, gets a polite and gracious 'yes professors' from Constance before they both disappear back to their offices.

After an exhausting morning of tutoring in Slytherin, she meanders to Hogsmeade to buy five more sets of warm stockings, tights, long socks, and refilling her backpack of sweets for the long winter ahead. After talking to several third and fourth years whom she'd tutored, they thanked her profusely and convinced her to join them in a butterbeer before returning to school. Though most were Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, three were Slytherin and a lone Gryffindor braved being seen with them all. Sitting between two large tables, they spent an hour talking and carrying on, until finally Constance had to excuse herself. Though she enjoyed their company, she was acutely aware that Pansy and her beehive would find it offending that she hung out with non-Slytherins. Wrestling that thought, she meanders back to the castle running into Sara along the path running up behind her, she jumps when Constance surprises her by calling out her name.

Pulling her off the path, and out of both sight and sound of prying ears and eyes, she whispers fearing the worst.

"It's begun. Potter is forming a group. Right now it's just teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. I saw quite a few from Gryffindor go, but there were Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs there as well."

Constance, concerned by the turn of events, broods on her next move. Making sure no one is in earshot, she buzzes around Sara mulling over her next step.

"You were there? No way they could have been pulling your leg, or setting us up?"

Susan shakes her head no, as she watches Constance pacing in front of her like a cat.

"I didn't attend…a friend of mine only heard about it, Seamus Finnigan, and I secretly followed him.

She stops and brings her face within inches of Sara; Susan cannot help but smell the butterbeer lingering on Constance's breath as she whispers.

"Okay, see if any of our lower class students are up to the task of infiltrating this group. You and Susan are too close to me, and would get too much attention if either if you tried. Anyone from Slytherin would be an obvious plant, so it will be dangerous."

After Sara acknowledges her, she motions to leave first, and Constance waits several minutes before emerging back onto the path. With the turn of events, her plans of a restful night's sleep were just a far away memory.

Spending the next week in heavy study and tutoring, Constance slowly sets the Harry Potter problem aside and puts her school work in front of her. With no updates, Constance refused to dwell on the lack of intelligence coming to her. As the days stretch out to weeks, then months, Constance endures Umbridge's failed attempts to remove her, and makes it to the holiday break. Joining Sara's family for Christmas, she spends her time laughing, singing, and spending every available moment with Susan. It was during a late night sleep-in, which she and Susan shared their first kiss under mistletoe, and it as magical as she had always imagined it would be. As if a weight had been removed from her life, Constance was finally becoming aware that she was feeling more than just friends with Susan, and was becoming to fear the ridicule it could bring on her and Susan. Though Susan seemed open to the relationship, Constance couldn't commit herself to the attachment. Fear, stopped her in her tracks, and she decided to cool her heels until the summer holiday. Justifying that it would give her more time than just a couple of weeks and the trouble with Umbridge should blow over by then, she confidently rationalizes her decision and puts her heart on hold.

A simple explanation of the facts was meant to put Susan at ease, and share Constance's fears and rationale behind cooling down their relationship back to just best friends. Unfortunately, it was apparent Susan was far more interested in taking the friendship to the next level; but Constance feared the backlash it could bring to their friendships both between them, and those at the school. Though protecting Susan was the priority, Constance managed to fumble her words just enough to plant an icy wall between them for the remainder of the holidays.