Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far- you guys really provided the kickstart to get this going again.
Disclaimer: I am not a multimillionaire. Therefore, my chances of owning this franchise are several limited.
McGonagall was making her usual evening rounds, walking briskly past the entrance to Gryffindor tower when all hell broke loose, and her quiet evening's contemplation was ruined. A small crowd of Gryffindors caught up to her in the corridor, grabbing at her robes and shouting at her to hurry, that something terrible had happened. Exactly what, they didn't pause to tell her, but she gathered it must be really bad because of the terror clearly written on their faces. Stepping through the portrait-hole, the first thing that hit her was the unmistakable smell of burning hair- years of teaching magic to the likes of Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnegan and the Weasley twins meant she was very familiar with the scent. The entire house was assembled, it seemed, crowded around the fireplace and each student wore a look of abject horror.
"Would someone care to explain what exactly is going on here?" Her voice carried well across the crowd and a good number of the students turned to face her. The three who'd assaulted her outside took hold of her again and dragged her forward- actions that she would surely protest against later, in private detention with each of them- and she caught her first glimpse of the problem. Ron and Ginny Weasley were kneeling on the floor, casting spells with startling speed and ferocity, something that she hadn't been expecting. Neville was standing above them, biting his lip and looking nervous and to their left, Harry was holding Hermione up- she looked pale enough to faint, but then so did a large number of the others.
"Dammit!" Ron exclaimed,shifting a little on the floor so the Deputy Headmistress could finally see what it was they were doing. The shape on the floor didn't register with her properly for a few seconds, not until Ginny cast another furious healing spell and shouted a loud,
"Merlin be buggered Dean, wake up!" Her brother muttered several words under his breath and finally looked up to see her standing above him. She was surprised to see tear tracks on his cheeks, but the look he gave her was hopeful.
"We need to get him to the infirmary Professor- right now. Could you... ?" And he gestured to the boy. Unthinking, McGonagall waved her wand and Dean rose into the air as if suspended by ropes.
"Out of my way children, out of my way!" And the crowd parted, letting them through. The Weasleys were at the boy's side all the way, casting and recasting the cooling spells and the healing spells that she knew were necessary. As they were leaving, Ron only glanced back once, calling to Neville that he was in charge until they got back, they were all to stay where they were and that no-one was to do anything stupid. He sounded furious.
It was only when Dean was in the capable hands of Madam Pomfrey and well on the way to recovery that McGonagall turned to her two ashen-faced students and demanded an explanation.
"I'm not sure what happened Professor." Ron's voice was dull and his eyes lacked their trademark Weasley sparkle. Ginny, sitting next to him, had her arms wrapped securely around her legs in the ultimate comfort position. "He was upset; going on about fighting the new system and then... I didn't see it coming- it just..."
"The fire reached out and ate him." If Ron had been dull, Ginny's voice was lifeless. "It reached out on its own and grabbed onto him and wouldn't let go." Her brother nodded miserably in agreement.
Reeling, she reached out for the nearest bed to steady her. She'd expected spells gone bad, maybe a miscast hex. This was worse.
"Will he be okay?" In her muddled state, she couldn't say for sure which sibling had spoken.
"He will, thanks to you two." It was Poppy who answered, her attention fixed on the children in front of her. "You saved his life, with your quick thinking. It's not everyone that would know to apply those charms- you should be proud of yourselves. He'll be shook up, no doubt, but he should make a full recovery by next week." Pomfrey had seen the Weasley clan come through her wing often enough to know that anyone who spent a large amount of time with the Fred and George was usually well prepared for a medical emergency. But Ron choked on a laugh in response, ignoring her praise.
"Well, it was the least I could do, wasn't it? Seeing as how the whole thing was my fault in the first place." McGonagall snapped back to herself at that- the defeat in his voice.
"None of that nonsense Weasley. This was bound to happen eventually, as we adjust to the new system. You heard what Madam Pomfrey said, and the boy will be fine." He stood up suddenly, and met her gaze with his own angry one.
"If this is what the new system is going to mean- the castle attacking one of her own whenever they disagree with the bloody concord, then I'm not sure we should even be here! I told them earlier, I told them, that Hogwarts is the safest place they could be but that's not true anymore, is it? Not if she's going to do things like this!" He started to pace, striding rapidly across the floor to the door and back again, muttering under his breath and for once, McGonagall didn't know what to say.
It was the arrival of the Headmaster that broke the tension, pushing the door open quietly in a way that seemed very undramatic for the usually flamboyant wizard.
"Ronald? Ginevra? Could you step outside for a moment please?" They did as they were told, both casting glances back at their friend- and Ginny's boyfriend- several times before the door swung shut.
Outside in the drafty hall, Ginny shivered and Ron resumed his pacing.
"What are we going to do Gin? We can't let anything like this happen again. Next time, there might be nobody there who knows the charms." She nodded, biting her lip in concentration.
"Or it might not be a fire the next time- it could be the walls; the stairs or the suits of armor for all we know. The whole castle is infused with this Ron, and you know our lot- they're far too likely to get themselves in more trouble. Merlin above, the castle would probably attack us if she thought we were trying to disobey." At her words, Ron stopped pacing and looked up to meet her eyes.
"Maybe." He didn't sound convinced. "Either way, we need to get everyone to agree on something, fast, or it really will be the end of Gryffindor. I'll send them all home myself before I let someone die because of this."
"A wise sentiment, Mr. Weasley. Very wise indeed." The headmaster had crept up on them, somehow, and was peering over his half-moon glasses at Ron. "If you would both follow me, please?"
Obedient but nervous, the siblings trooped after him, covering the distance to his office in silence.
"Gumdrops" Dumbledore muttered, and the statue marking his office sprang aside revealing the stairs beyond. He preceded them upward, pushing the door open ahead of them and was seated behind his desk by the time the door closed after Ron. Dumbledore gestured absently toward the chairs opposite his own and they sat. Ron forced himself not to fidget, but Ginny was listless in her seat, her mind replaying over and over Dean's burnt body. And his face... Merlin, his face. She shuddered, just thinking about it, and tried in vain to push the memory out of her head. Madam Pomfrey said that he'll make a full recovery. He'll be fine. There won't even be any scarring, I bet. She turned her gaze to Fawkes to distract herself, concentrating intently on the bright feathers and hoping that whatever it was Dumbledore wanted would be over soon, so she could get back to the hospital wing.
"Ronald, Ginevra, I'm going to be honest with you." His voice was serious, but it was the words that caught both of their attention. Dumbledore, honest? Ron frowned. "This concord, the enactment of the treaty after so long... it is indeed a worrying thing." He paused and met both of their gazes before continuing. "What do you know about the old magics?" The Weasley's exchanged a glance before Ginny answered.
"As much as any other Wizard-raised, I suppose. Maybe less." For some reason, that seemed to amuse him, but Ron couldn't begin to imagine why.
"When magic is very old, and very strong, one of two things can happen to it. It can fade, becoming less than a shadow of itself." He paused again and if Ron were less generous he may have thought that the pause was merely for dramatic effect. "Or it can strengthen over time, waiting for the opportunity to fulfill its purpose. That is, unfortunately, the scenario we are facing today. The magic has lain dormant for a very long time, waiting for it's chance to escape and growing more powerful all the time." He grimaced. "As we saw with Mr. Thomas, it doesn't seem to take kindly to criticism and that makes it all the more dangerous."
Neither Ginny or Ron really knew quite how to respond to that.
"Any ideas on how to stop it then?" Of course, Ron had always hated an awkward silence. Dumbledore chuckled, albeit a little darkly.
"I'm afraid the castle has sealed herself off from me, Ronald. She no longer recognises me as the Headmaster of the school, and as such will not heed me in the least. I would ask that you keep that piece of information to yourselves, however." Ginny agreed quickly but her brother was slow to follow suit, caught deep in thought, which was admittedly unusual for the youngest Weasley boy.
"She recognises us though, doesn't she? That's what this is all about, right? Getting us to realise that the castle will listen to us if we talk to her. And hopefully, not in a creepy burn-your-friend-to-death kind of way?" Something struck him then, and he glanced up to find the headmaster's gaze intent on him, something shining in those old blue eyes. "Do the others know this? Has she done anything like this in any of the other houses?" The headmaster didn't respond in the least, but something shifted in his expression that Ron took as a no. His sister missed the change in expression, but was quick to catch on to the conversation.
"Would she listen more to us than to say, Malfoy, if we figured out how to talk to her faster?" This time, the change on the old wizard's face was slightly more readable- almost a nod. Almost.
"Well, it's been lovely to have you both, and I'm sure that you're both eager to get on with your evening. Do call by again." He stood, his brilliantly magenta robes swirling as he ushered them out of his office and down the stairs. "I trust you both know what you have to do." The door closed, and he was gone.
Ginny snorted.
"I always thought Harry was being a bit of a brat when he said that Dumbledore was cryptic, but what the hell was that all about? I think I owe the boy an apology." Ron nodded grimly.
"But we know what we have to do, at least. Let's go check on Dean and then we need to get back to the common room. I have a feeling that Neville might be needing us."
Neville didn't exactly need them, but he found himself fervently wishing that the red-headed siblings were present. He wasn't comfortable with attention on a good day, and today was anything but a good day. He was sitting with Harry and Hermione, as far away from the fireplace as they could get, and he was doing his best to ignore the stares and the whispers. The atmosphere was less tense than earlier, but certainly more afraid. Who dared speak now, when they'd seen what could happen? It wasn't until his stomach started growling that he realised he'd missed dinner- Ron and Ginny too, as they'd been hiding in the boy's dorm at the time. He muttered an apology to the others, but neither even acknowledged it, locked away in their own thoughts. His stomach growled again and Neville stood up slowly, making his way to the portrait hole, intent on going to the kitchens to beg the house elves for food.
"Where are you going?" Lavender demanded, her voice shrill and piercing. Neville winced, and turned to face her.
"I, uh. I'm hungry. I was going to get some dinner."
"You're thinking about food when Dean could be dying?" It was Parvati who spoke this time, her words laced with venom that Neville wasn't sure he deserved.
"I'm just hungry, I missed dinner." They both scoffed, and Lavender sneered.
"You'll survive without one meal, I'm sure." She eyed him up and down for good measure, sneer growing even as she did. He reddened even more, mortified as everyone turned to stare at him. He was used to Lavender's cutting remarks- she'd never been fond of him,- but he was a little surprised by Parvati's joining in. "Anyway, Ron said we were all to stay here, so we should stay here." She added, looking just a little smug as Neville regained his seat. Her words though, were enough to bring Hermione back to reality.
"Ron also said that Neville was in charge while he was gone, so by your logic, you should be shutting up and letting him do whatever he wants." She turned to Neville and smiled, just a little. "You want some company going to the kitchens, Neville?" Neville was usually grateful to Hermione for her constant support, but he couldn't help but feel even more embarrassed that he was being defended by a girl. Even if said girl was the cleverest witch of their age. He didn't say anything though- did he ever?- just shook his head and slouched down in his seat, ignoring his aching stomach. The common room was silent, each student locked up in their own thoughts and the only conversations were quiet and short. Everyone seemed unwilling to leave the common room, preferring to stay with the crowd rather than separate, and the first years weren't the only ones casting suspicious glances at the fireplace, as if expecting it to attack again.
"We should go check on Dean." Harry finally said, the worry in his voice evident to everyone who could hear him. Seamus and Hermione were quick to agree and the three of them stood up and crossed the common room quickly. Lavender opened her mouth to protest, but the death-glare Hermione meant she quickly snapped it shut again.
It wasn't until they reached the portrait hole that they realised there was a problem- it wouldn't open. Harry pushed hard, and Seamus helped him, and Hermione tried every spell she knew to get it open but to no avail. The portrait was jammed shut and would not budge.
Confused, everyone looked to Hermione for an answer, but she was busily firing spells at the door, getting more and more frustrated as she did.
"What was the last thing Ron said before he left?" The tiny first year, Melinda, piped up, and even Hermione's eyes widened in surprise.
He'd told them to stay where they were. And now they couldn't leave. Neville tried to shrink back into himself as everyone turned to him. For a group so reluctant to accept the new order, they were happy enough to turn to him- or on him, perhaps- when they needed something.
"Can you try it Neville? See if you can get out, at least?" Seamus asked, even as Harry tried pushing the portrait again. Uncomfortable, he crossed to where his friends were standing and reached out one hand. He didn't even have to touch it before the portrait swung outward freely and he stepped outside, glad of the cooler air in the hallway. Seamus, eager to get an update on his best mate, eagerly leapt after him only to find the painting snap shut in his face, leaving Neville alone in the darkened corridor.
The Gryffindor boy blinked once and contemplated the doorway. The fat lady eyed him from her perch in the painting.
"Are you going in again, or are you going to let them out?" She demanded, and he shrugged.
"Can I let them out?" He asked, and she looked confused. Or, as confused as a portrait can look. He heard her mutter "Good question" before he gave the password and she swung outward once more. This time, Seamus managed to get out the doorway in time, but Neville made sure to keep his hand on the edge of the doorway at all times- he just hoped that Seamus didn't notice. Harry and Hermione followed the Irish boy out, but no-one else made a move to leave, instead turning away from the doorway and back to their gloomy contemplations. Shrugging his shoulders again, Neville let the door snap shut and followed the others towards the hospital wing.
Lethe Basingstoke was, to everyone who knew him well, an incredibly patient man. There was a story- be it an urban myth or not- within the IWF of a stakeout he'd once been part of. It was said that he'd waited for three days and four nights in a dank, dark foxhole waiting to meet a contact from the black market in Munich. In planning and execution, it was said that there was no better agent to have on your side. It might have surprised many of his colleagues to hear that he was easily bored and more easily distracted. Currently, he was studying the maps of the school that the Headmaster had provided, attempting to memorize the layout. He'd attended Durmstrang as a student and as a result had very little knowledge of Hogwarts and her grounds.
It was a welcome relief when a knock sounded on his door, but he made his way to answer it slowly, refusing to show it. The tiny charms professor greeted him with a solemn nod and Basingstoke accepted the parchment from him with barely concealed excitement.
"This was delivered to the school for you, Mr. Basingstoke, and the Headmaster asked that I deliver it." The tiny man made a face. "He also asked that I inform you of some worrying developments within Gryffindor house. Apparently, one of the students was harmed in some way by the castle herself. The Headmaster assures us all that this will not happen again, but he also warns that we remain vigilant." Flitwick nodded slowly and spun on one heel to leave.
"Is the student in question a Muggleborn, by any chance?" Basingstoke asked, his voice casual.
"Yes, as it happens, he is." Flitwick didn't look back, but the coldness in his voice spoke volumes about his disapproval.
Carefully, the IWF representative closed his door and pressed his back against it. A tiny smile danced on the edge of his lips, even as he raised the letter into his line of sight and began to read. It had started.
