Disclaimer: I want my very own HP universe, where I can play with the characters and pretend to be JK. Oh wait, that's why I write Fanfic. Sweet. But I still own nothing.
Apologies for the wait- my muse hasn't been around for quite some time. The following may be a bit... odd. Please let me know what you think!
"Is that it?" Bill peered distrustfully into the swirling liquid. He sounded throughly unimpressed. Charlie snorted and smacked his brother across the back of his head.
"That's it. Remus and Moody brought it from Hogwarts this morning- apparently the Headmaster will be happier to have it out of the school during this 'troublesome time'. Bit of an understatement there, if you ask me, but then Dumbledore is the boss so I reckon nobody'll be asking me anytime soon." Bill caught the bitterness in his brother's voice, and glanced over his shoulder with a look of concern on his face.
"You really miss the dragons already, don't you?" There was sympathy in his voice too. He understood what it meant to give up something you desperately wanted for the good of the cause. But Bill's sacrifice was tall, blonde and far more vocal about being sacrificed than Charlie's dragons were. The younger of the two nodded slowly, making an unhappy face.
"I just wish sometimes that we weren't in so deep in all this." He took a deep breath before blowing it back out, noisily. "We're the Weasleys- we're expected to show up and fight, even as everyone else stands by and pretends that You-Know-Who will go away if we wish hard enough." His voice dropped to a whisper as he added, "Sometimes I wonder if Percy had the right idea- calling us all idiots and leaving." Bill chuckled darkly, gesturing to the pensieve on the table-top.
"If he could see us now, he'd be laughing his ass off. He was right; we do what Dumbledore tells us to do, no questions asked." Charlie looked surprised, a little, at his brother's words. "But that doesn't mean that the old man is crazy- or even wrong. We're Weasleys. That means we'll do what has to be done, even if everyone else is living in denial." He laughed again, throwing his arm around Charlie's shoulder. "They can thank us after it's all over, yeah? Now let's get cracking on this- we don't have all day before Mum starts hollering at us to clean something. Or worse, cook something." He shuddered dramatically and Charlie cracked a smile, leaning forward to the pooled memories and reaching out one hand.
"Come on then. What are you waiting for? The horcruxes to come find us?"
Together, the brothers reached into the pensieve and were pulled away, through time and memory into the living room of one Hepzibah Smith.
There was an eerie silence in the Gryffindor common room, broken only by the sounds of shuffling feet and moving chairs. Unusually, every single Gryffindor was in attendance- rooted to the spot and nervously awaiting the re-emergence of their new Council. Harry and Hermione had fought their way through the crowd about ten minutes after Ron had arrived, and had scared some first years off their favourite, fireside, chairs. Given the uncomfortable heat of the packed common room, Hermione was beginning to wonder if sitting next to the roaring fire had been a bad idea. She pulled at her shirt collar, trying to get some relief from the heat crawling up her back, but kept her gaze firmly on the stairway to the boys dorms. It seemed that everyone was staring that way- all she could see in her line of sight were the backs of her housemate's heads. Everyone except Harry and Dean. Those two, she knew, were sprawled on the couch behind her, playing the muggle game thumb wars as quietly as they could. The air was thick and warm and tense and she couldn't help but feel sick to her stomach. Something was telling her that regardless of what Ron had promised, that whatever happened was going to be ugly.
The silence was broken eventually by the creaking an upstairs door, followed by the slow trooping of three pairs of feet. Ginny emerged first, startled to see all the eyes on her, and was closely followed by her brother and Neville, both of whom ignored the people staring except for varying degrees of blush.
Ron coughed, clearing his throat, and stepped in front of the others.
"Okay, listen carefully, because I'm only going to say this once: I don't care who your parents are. I don't care what your heritage is, and I don't give a monkey's about what colour your blood is." There were some- very audible- sighs of relief, and Ron couldn't help but feel a tiny trickle of indignation. He had never acted the part of Pureblood hypocrite, that they would expect worse from him, had he? He pushed it down, resolving to vent at someone later but not now. Definitelynot now. "What I do care about is Gryffindor house and what this new... development, lets say... means for us." A few people snickered at that, and one voice muttered a nearly inaudible "What it means forus, you mean" which he chose to ignore.
"I'm sure you've all been filled in on what it means for the school- the councils will have absolute rule over their houses, and everyone will be expected to obey the rules they set. This council intends to set only one rule: What happens in Gryffindor stays in Gryffindor." He cast his gaze around the crowd, reading the anxiety in the eyes gazing back at him. "What I mean is..." He sighed, glancing to his sister for encouragement, which she provided with a warm smile and a gesture to get on with it. "There are those in the school that would be only too delighted to know exactly what is going on in here; to hear exactly how we've been fighting with ourselves. I swear to Merlin, if I so much as hear a rumour that any of you have told anyone else what goes on in here from now on, I'll hex you into oblivion myself, got it?" Around him, heads nodded, unsure but agreeing.
Ron sighed loudly, just relieved that no-one had hit him yet.
"Apart from that, we answer to McGonagall as our head of house, and to the prefects and the Heads as usual, got it? I'm well on board with the idea of pretending that none of this is happening, alright?" A few more head nodded at that.
"Any questions?" And almost every hand was raised. Crap.
"Okay, starting on my right- you're Melinda, yeah? Fire ahead." The tiny blonde girl standing closest to him looked startled, and squeaked a little. Everyone laughed, easing some of the tension even as she blushed and Ron encouraged her to speak up. His less mature side was laughing at her too, but only on the inside.
"Um. I was just wondering, well, why is it that you, Ginny and Neville were chosen? I don't really understand." Other voices backed up her request, echoing her words. Disbelief was written on Ron's face as he turned to Ginny.
"Do you really not explain anything before you started hexing people?" His words were quiet, meant for her ears only, and she blushed a little and shook her head.
"Alright then- here goes." Scratching his head, he aimed his wand behind him and conjured a blackboard. "This is going to get complicated, so stop me if you get confused, okay? And if I get confused, everyone else can please feel free to jump in." There were several laughs from the assembled crowd, and the tension in the air dropped another notch. "There is a system of points assigned to every witch and wizard, right? Depending on how Pure their blood is, okay? The highest any one wizard or witch can get is fifteen, okay? Ginny and I are both 15, and Neville is 14, which is why we've been chosen by the bloody concord." He took a deep breath, and turned to the blackboard, using his wand to write the number 15 on one side of the board. "Muggleborns, according to this system, have zero points." The figure 0 appeared on the other side of the board. "When a witch or wizard is born, their own points are calculated using the points their parents had- so if Neville had a child with a Muggleborn, the child would be a 7, a halfblood, because 14 and 0 is 14, and half of that is 7. Everyone with me?" Most of the crowd nodded, even as the number 7 appeared on the board.
"Now, a wizard is-" His sister's pointed cough meant he amended the statement with a hastily added "Or a witch, sorry, is considered a Pureblood as soon as they hit 11 points, which would take at least two generations from the first introduction of a Muggleborn to the family, because the first generation would have a maximum of seven and a half points, and the second could reach 11.25 if the 7 married a 15, okay?" He could see some blank, confused faces staring back at him and cast a helpless glance at his sister. She just shrugged and waved him on. They'd warned everyone that it would get complicated.
The board had updated the figures as he'd been speaking, adding numbers to each side. He briefly wondered if that were making it more or less confusing.
"So, if two halfbloods were to have children, their children would be halfbloods?" It was Melinda who spoke, emboldened perhaps by having been the first to ask a question. Ron nodded, relieved that someone seemed to be getting it.
"Exactly. And if a Halfblood were to have children with a Muggleborn, the points would drop to 3.5, okay?" He made a face "But if they were to marry a Muggle, the children would automatically only be a 1, for whatever reason. The same goes for Squibs born to any magical family- they automatically drop to a 1." Seamus made a sound of protest- perhaps the only one there whose Witch mother had married a Muggle, and Ron acknowledged it with a nod of his head. "However, those children can earn back two extra points by being Wizard-raised, leaving them at a potential score of 3." More blank stares. "See? I said it was weird."
"So how come you and Ginny are 15 then?" Harry asked, his voice clear across the room. Ron blushed.
"Ah, well. See... if your family goes back a certain distance on either side, you get an extra half point. We can do it on both, so we get a whole extra point. You probably have that half-point too, Harry, from the Potter side, but I'm not sure." He reddened a little more. "I never really studied all this rubbish, so I'm not as sure of it all as some of the other council members." He said 'other council members' but everyone heard'Draco Malfoy'. "So does that make it any clearer?"
"Oh aye, it's as clear as dirty water now, where before it was muck. Thanks mate." Seamus' dry sarcastic voice floated over the crowd and there were a few more giggles, for which Ron was grateful.
"Okay, next question?" All the arms raised again, and Ron picked the boy- a second or third year, he thought,- standing next to Melinda.
"What's going to happen to the school?" The boy glanced around him, nervous, and took a deep breath even as Ron remembered that his name was Michael. "Everyone was saying that we- the Muggleborns I mean- are going to be in loads of trouble now, and that we might have to go home." A mutter of discontent rippled through the students and Ron almost snapped an answer.
"No-one is going home! Hogwarts is still the safest place you could be, alright? This thing could even be good for Gryffindors in the long run- we're going to be better protected with this in place than we were bef-"
"Pull the other one, Weasley! On what planet could this ever be considered a good thing? Half this bloody school are Muggleborns and Halfbloods- the twos and three on your bloody scale of wizarding brilliance. Is that how we're supposed to define ourselves from now on?" Dean's voice was loud, clear and unfortunately mocking. "Shall I introduce myself as that from now on? Hi, my name is Dean and I'm a zero." His tone did nothing to conceal his anger and bitterness. "I've had enough of that growing up- I'm not going to put up with it now, alright?" Ron wasn't sure what that meant, but he wasn't going to give in either.
"Not like that, you great prat. What I meant was that..." He paused for second, trying to gather his thoughts, "... that we can keep everything we do a secret now and no-one can expect us to tell them anything."
"But that works the other way too, doesn't it Ron? The other houses can keep secrets now, and there's no way that we can know what they're up to." Silence fell at Hermione's words, and everyone watched as Ron nodded.
"That's true- but that's not our problem right now, Hermione. We need to focus on Gryffindor, and on not letting this get the better of us. We're meant to be brave; to be ready to fight for what's right-"
"And equality isn't right? Being equal isn't worth fighting for?" She sounded incredulous, and just a tiny bit disappointed.
"That's not what I meant and you know it!" He was angry, but Ginny could hear the hurt in his voice, even as she recognised indignation on Hermione's face. The rest of Gryffindor, well used to the fights between the pair, stepped back a little from them both and prepared to evacuate if the room caught fire. "We need to stay united on this- to be one united front instead of fighting each other. I've said I don't believe in any of this and I mean it! I don't give a bollocks about it but I'm not the one who made the rules, Hermione!" She scoffed, rising from her seat. The crowd between herself and Ron parted as one, allowing her to approach him unhindered. Ginny met Harry's eyes across the crowd for the first time since their own fight the night before, and they both winced. This was not going to be pretty.
"You're making the rules now though, aren't you? I've read all about what this Concord was intended for, and you know what? I'm thinking that the repression of Muggleborns should be something that you're willing to fight against, instead of just happily accepting the whole thing!" He coloured even more, if that's possible, and she took a few more steps toward him.
"What the hell does that even mean? In case you've forgotten, I'm a blood traitor! My whole family are seen as traitors by every Blood-obsessed Wand-Wielder."
"That's beside the point Ron, and you know it. You didn't say no: you didn't speak up and say that this isn't right. What are we supposed to think?" Her eyes flashed, and Roncouldn't recall ever seeing her look angrier.
"Oh, and I'm expected to be the great brave Gryffindor hero? Since when? Newsflash Hermione- I didn't ask for this and I sure as hell don't want it. But do you know what the other options are?" He sounded really, really angry.
"No, but I'm sure you'll explain them to me. Be sure to use small words- I'm Muggleborn, I might not understand your technical Wizarding terms." The bitterness in her voice betrayed her real fear- the one that had been rooted since her very first day of Hogwarts, when Draco Malfoy and his Pureblood friends had dismissed her as less than nothing because of her birth. It had hurt her greatly then, and it still hurt some now, not that she would ever admit to it.
"The only other option we have is dissolution- or didn't you read about that? It's this- it's me, Ginny and Neville,- or it's the end of Gryffindor and resorting for the lot of you. Is that what you want? Would you like to finally be a Ravenclaw, seeing as Gryffindor is obviously not good enough for you any more? It'd have to be Ravenclaw, cos you don't seem to have the loyalty for Hufflepuff." His first words shocked her into silence, and the last ones stung in a way that only Ron had ever managed. Her mouth opened to speak, but no words came out.
Ginny felt herself move forward, pulling her brother back from where he'd been almost touching his bushy haired friend, and she was speaking before she even started to think.
"Yeah, that's right Hermione- it's us or oblivion. Or didn't you learn that in the books you stole from me last night?" Her own anger rose as the other girl blanched, guilt etched in her features.
"I didn't... I mean, I didn't steal them. I was going to give them back." Her words sounded weak even to her own ears, and a chorus of exclamations rose around her.
"You had all day to leave them back Hermione, and you didn't bother. You eavesdropped on a private conversation, you stole from me, and now you accuse mybrother,your best friend, of not standing up for you? Why the hell should he, if you're just going to stab him in the back?" Her words were almost a growl by the end, and Ron was the one holding her back. Obviously, she was angrier about the whole 'missing ancient tombs' scenario than he'd realised.
"Come on Gin, that's not-"
He was cut off, whatever he was going to say lost forever as Dean Thomas stood up on the fireside table and shouted "Oi! Muggleborns!" at the top of his voice. All eyes turned to him.
"I say we object to being second class citizens in our own school. I say, we challenge this bloody system the same way we're handled everything else since we got to this school- with the courage that Gryffindor's are famed for! Are you lot willing to just lie down an accept all this?" There was an echoing of angry voices, all agreeing with Dean, and the crowds began to mutter in harsh tones. Hermione, standing in the middle of it all, could only turn to Ron and mutter a quiet apology. But Ron wasn't listening to Hermione- Ron, along with his second and third, were staring toward the fireplace with horror-stricken expressions on their faces. She spun on on heel, just fast enough to see the flames dart from the fire and embrace the standing figure of Dean Thomas.
He had a second to look shocked before the fire caught hold, and then he screamed.
A/N: Questions? Criticism? Comments?
