Although Morag wanted to do something interesting for the D.A. - not necessarily something as brazen as Su and Kevin's fireworks, but something - she didn't get the chance initially. The D.A. met up a few more times in October, but these meetings were dedicated much more to practicing defensive spells than rebelling against the Carrows. She had tried thinking up plans herself, but nothing had come to mind, and she knew that if she asked Su or Kevin for help, they'd probably come up with something absolutely crazy.
Despite Morag's inactivity - which she didn't appreciate - October was, by no means, a dull month. A couple days after Su had confessed to Morag that she was lesbian, Su had also told the others at varying points. Everybody was relatively fine with it, to Su's happiness. Although Padma and Mandy were much more careful about changing clothes, and Kevin and Michael now would include Su whenever they talked about what girls were hottest, Su's revelation hadn't changed their dynamic very much at all.
Besides that, their Dark Arts classes had also changed. Amycus Carrow had finally caught on to how most of the students weren't actually doing Unforgivables. It had only taken him two months to realize that, apparently. The students were certainly right in saying that he was an idiot - anybody else would have noticed that much sooner. The result had been that each student had to come up to his desk and take a turn performing an Unforgivable Curse on their frog or mouse, right in front of him, and any student who didn't try would receive detention.
The Slytherins had no problem with this new format, of course. They had all been actually practicing since the beginning, and every class they had been more proficient than anybody else. The Ravenclaws were next - although none of them had been performing curses before, at this point they did. It would be stupid to receive detention for something this minor, and so they would all perform a weak Imperius Curse on their respective animals, and since they did actually succeed he couldn't do anything. Their curses weren't as strong as they could have been, but since they had actually produced some effect, he didn't penalize them.
The Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, on the other hand, weren't so quick to accept it. The first day that he announced this change, nearly all of them got sent to detention. Each day, though, it dwindled further and further until every student in the class was producing an Unforgivable - although, in most of their cases, a very mild form of one - on his or her animal.
It had been noticed that there was a mysterious person going around the school writing and drawing things that portrayed the Carrows in a negative light. The person signed all of their artwork or writings with 'Love, the Secret Enemy', and it had become this person's moniker. Nobody actually knew who it was, although there were several theories going around. It wasn't known whether the person was part of the D.A. or not, what house they were in, or what year they were in.
The Secret Enemy usually targeted the Carrows' classrooms, and often on days that Morag had Dark Arts or Muggle Studies, she would walk into the classroom with the others and see a message or picture on the chalkboard. The messages were always rude to the Carrows - strong language was in nearly every one of them, and the messages were usually either insulting them or criticizing them. The drawings weren't that different, and after one particularly inappropriate yet detailed one of both Carrows, many of the younger students believed that the Carrows were in a relationship together.
Whoever it was, they were admired around the school just as much as the D.A. was - if not more. Everybody knew about the Secret Enemy, and everyone - apart from most Slytherins, found the drawings and pictures to be highly amusing. It was a mystery to who they were, and although Morag was just as curious as everybody else, she knew that most likely, the person wouldn't reveal his or her identity. If they had gone to this much trouble to stay secret, they were going to stay secret.
The last D.A. meeting of the month was held the day before Halloween, and just as everybody was about to leave, Neville stopped them. "Wait," he said, his voice resonating throughout the room. "Before you go, I just want to make you all aware of one thing. Tomorrow night, while everybody else is at the feast, Ginny, Luna, and I, are going to do something."
"And what is that 'something'?" Kevin asked, wiggling his eyebrows in a highly suggestive manner.
"Shut up, Entwhistle," Ginny said, "it has absolutely nothing to do with what you're imagining."
"What is it?" Susan Bones from Hufflepuff asked, twisting a strand of dark red hair around her finger.
Neville took a deep breath. "We're going to be breaking into Snape's office." A few gasps echoed throughout the crowd. "We want to steal the Sword of Gryffindor." Morag's forehead wrinkled in confusion; most of the others were giving each other similar looks, like they, too, had no idea what was actually going on here. "We know it's important, or else Snape wouldn't be keeping it locked up there where he can keep an eye on it."
"Need us to do anything?" Seamus called out.
"Sort of," Neville replied. "If you see Snape or the Carrows leaving the Halloween Feast, just try to distract them as long as you can. Don't get in trouble for it, please, but if you can keep them occupied for even a minute or two, that would be great. All right?" Nods and murmurs of assent spread throughout the room, and slowly the D.A. members trickled out.
Morag was on edge for most of the next day - the D.A., in general, was on edge. Morag could see it in the other Ravenclaws, and in the other seventh years that she shared classes with. Everybody was waiting anxiously for the Halloween Feast, and what would happen. They were all wondering the same thing: would Neville, Ginny, and Luna take possession of the sword, or would they get caught? And if they did get caught, what would happen to them?
The Halloween Feast itself was impressive as usual. The Great Hall was decorated lavishly and magnificently, just as it had been in prior years, and this decor uplifted many of the younger students, so that the room was once again full of excited chatter as opposed to the subdued conversations of the past two months. The louder talking of the younger students made up for the jittery nervousness of the older students, and the general aura was one of excitement. If somebody had looked into the Great Hall at that point, they wouldn't have been able to tell that anything was different this year.
Morag was just relaxing, thinking that everything was about to go normally and the Sword of Gryffindor would be stolen without a hitch. It was at that point that she noticed Snape stare at the Gryffindor table; his eyes swept it, before turning to the Ravenclaws. It looked as though he was looking for somebody - or, perhaps, three somebodies. He stood up, muttered something to Alecto Carrow, and then left, gliding down the center aisle. The doors slammed shut behind him.
She stood up, deciding that she would attempt to delay him. At least it was doing something - she had wanted that, hadn't she? She felt Kevin slip something into her pocket, but she ignored him and hurried out, rubbing her belly and grimacing as though she had a stomachache. It was a cliche excuse, and she wasn't sure if anybody would believe her. Thankfully, though, she wasn't stopped, and once she left the Great Hall she saw the corner of Snape's cloak disappearing around a corner. "Professor," she called loudly, running after him. "Professor!"
It wasn't long before she caught up to him; he was merely walking quickly, while she was running. "Professor," she gasped, panting a little.
"Miss MacDougal," he said coldly, "it seems as though you have forgotten that running in the corridors is not permitted."
"I had a question," she answered, less out of breath, her mind frantically trying to think of an excuse. "And, er, it was urgent."
He raised his eyebrows. "I do not have time for the inquiries of students who find it impossible to remember a rule that has been in place for centuries."
"It's, er, I was just wondering..." She paused, trying to buy both herself and the others a few more seconds. "I need to get in the Restricted Section of the library," she said, "For Dark Arts, you know. And I was wondering if you could give me a signature so I can do that."
"I am sure that Professor Carrow would be more than willing to assist you. It is his class you need the book for, after all."
Morag took a deep breath. "I don't know, sir, if Professor Carrow is capable of signing his own name."
There was a moment of silence where Morag was wondering whether or not Snape was going to give her detention, but instead he simply shook his head. "There are many professors at Hogwarts, and I assure you that they are all capable of writing. Go back to the feast, Miss MacDougal." He swept off, faster than last time, and she chased after him.
"Professor!"
"Miss MacDougal, I will give you detention if you do not go back to the feast at once," he answered. She paused, considering, and then Neville's order of 'Don't get in trouble for it' came back to her. She had distracted Snape for a short while, at least. She headed back, but at the last second she turned around and ran a different route to the Headmaster's office. She had never actually been up there, but she had been by it. Looking around - she only had a short time - she fidgeted in her pocket, reaching for her wand.
The first thing her fingers came across, though, wasn't her wand - it was a small package. Peering closely at it, she noticed it was labeled 'Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder'. This must be what Kevin gave me, she reasoned. One of his Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products, no doubt. She tipped it out into her hand and threw it about. Within a second or two, the corridor was completely pitch-black; she couldn't see a single thing. Retreating back the way she had came, she grinned.
Neville, Ginny, and Luna wouldn't be bothered by it, she figured. Ginny would know exactly what it was, no doubt, and how to find her way through it. Snape, though, wouldn't recognize it, and would probably blunder around, at least for a short while, and try to find the exact position of the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the office. Perfect, she thought, and there was a skip in her step as she returned to the feast. She had done something for the D.A.. Maybe it wasn't the most glamorous or exciting thing, but it was something.
