Darling readers!
Hello! Chapter 9 is at your disposal. So sorry it took me so long to put up here. Between assistant directing a university mainstage and coreographing it, plus getting Adult Chicken Pox, and the regular stresses of job and love-life and money, this chapter suddenly became a lomming monster! It was SO hard to write because, as you'll notice, it's a lot more serious and heavy and confusing than any other chapter of 'Purple' I've ever written before.
It's also 62 pages long. (cries a little)
Thank you so much for your patience! I promise to be faster in the future. I'm also starting another fic that I'm putting up, called 'Those WhoEat Death' that's not for the faint of heart. If you feel like dark intrigue Azkaban style, feel free to check it out. I know that anything you guys suggest in reviews for its future will be as exceedingly useful and relevent as whatever I've received for 'Bullseye'. :)
I'd like to thank Katie for her Percy Weasley idea and just for being amazing in general. Ariensilverleaf is'my hero. We must mate. Now. Enk, I thank for constant inspiration, checking my German history, orgasmal fanartand keeping on me till I actually wrote the damned thing! The same goes for Sawiuk who will not rest till I update more regularly, and my doll RiceBall, as well as Phorcys (here come the techno problems!).
Standard disclaimers apply, tasty teaser at the end and...enjoy, people. It's yours, now.,
Peace, Love and Weaponry,
Spite.
Chapter 9. Fracture V: A Muggle Defence
If Steph thought that she'd been having a surreal morning, Jess' was no less interesting. It started with the walk to breakfast from the Ravenclaw dorm to the Great Hall. She and Harry had stayed up late into the night, noses buried in books, minds reeling with polysyllabic legal jargon; it had taken all her effort to pry herself from her bed and drag on her clothing in a semi-respectable fashion.
Her mind was still cloudy and slow when she turned the corner and ran into a gang of preoccupied Slytherins.
The fog on Jess' brain suddenly evaporated; everything became suddenly clear and sharp. The ends of her finger tips tingled and she felt her muscles tighten in anticipation all over her body. This time, by God, they weren't going to catch her!
But…wait a minute…
The Slytherins parted down the middle. Blaise Zabini turned her head shiftily, casting a scanning glance around the hallway.
They hadn't noticed Jess yet.
Standing next to Blaise, amidst the huddle of Slytherins…was Donia.
Jess gaped silently, then shook her head from side to side to clear her brain of the hallucination she was surely having.
Nope, it wasn't a hallucination; that was definitely Donia, huddled with the Slytherins, looking just as shifty and suspicious as any other member of that house.
Jess frowned. What was going on, here!
"Donia!" she called advancing out of the shadows.
The entire group jumped violently, including her friend. They blinked at her confusedly for a moment, then suddenly began to slink away in an efficient, unhurried retreat.
"Hey! Wait…" began Jess rushing forward. Donia was hurriedly murmuring instructions to the Slytherins as they were taking off. Jess finally got close enough to hear the other muggle grab the last girl by the arm and murmur, "…and, Beth, tell Jon it's a go with Plan B and C…"
"What about Dra-" began the Slytherin girl.
"Later." Hissed Donia nervously.
Beth turned around and gave Jess a fleeting glare, as if the Ravenclaw muggle had interrupted something crucial. Jess watched her go, in utter confusion. Then, she turned to Donia.
"What's going on?" snapped Jess.
"What do you mean?" gulped Donia.
"No! Stop it! You always do that when you don't want to answer a question!"
"Do what?"
"Ask a question back instead of answer!"
"Answer what?"
"The question!"
"What question?"
"DONIA!"
"What!"
"Why are you talking to the Slytherins?"
"I…I…I'm not!"
"How…Wha-…You just were!"
"No I wasn't!"
"Yes, you were! You were talking to the Slytherins! And they weren't pummelling you in return. Why? What are you up to?"
"I wasn't talking to the Slytherins. Slytherins are…bad. They're evil and mean and kinky, not to mention generally loose with their honours…"
"You were talking to them! I just saw you!"
"You saw wrong! I was….beating them!"
"Beating them. With what?"
"With…words."
"Words. And what did those words involve?"
Donia's eyes swivelled from side to side unhappily as she searched for a way out. Finally, she yelled, "What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?"
Jess was not impressed. "You're doing it again!"
"Doing what!"
"Asking a question because you don't want to give an answer!"
"What if it's not that I don't want to give an answer, but, rather, that I can't give one?" The Slytherin muggle squinted with effort.
"It's all semantics, darling, and I'm not buying it," snorted Jess.
Silence.
Jess sighed wearily. "Fine. I'll let it go. I just hope you're not breaking the 'No Violence' rule…"
"I promised I wouldn't, Jess."
"Yes, and I believe you wouldn't," the Ravenclaw smiled softly. "I just…I'm nervous about one of us doing something to fan the flames at the ministry of magic…."
"I'm trying my best. I got a goblet thrown at me yesterday, and I did nothing about it," Donia put her hand up and pulled her hair back revealing a newly healed cut at her hairline. "Do you know how difficult that was for me?"
"I do."
"If that had happened back at our school…"
"I know; you'd have pulled Malfoy's kidneys out of his sides with your bare hands and used them as sandwich meat. I know that this is difficult for you and I appreciate it…"
"Mmmmm…."
"What?"
"I'm hungry."
"Was it the image of Malfoy's kidneys between two pieces of whole wheat toast?"
"Quite possibly."
Jess laughed. "Alright! Go to, then, heinous wench! Forsake my company for that of Breakfast's!"
"Aren't you coming?" asked Donia gently. "You should really get something into you before those Oar-ers…"
"Aurors, Donia."
"…pick you up."
"I really can't get anything down me right now. I just….need to walk around…"
"Yeah, well, I hate to bust your chops or anything but I wouldn't walk around on my own right now…"
"Why?"
"The Slytherins are out for blood. Draco Malfoy issued a carte blanche to the Slytherins on attacking muggles this morning."
Jess raised an eyebrow. "Really? And did you find this out just now? While theywere beating you with words?"
Donia's temper flared. "Look! That's my advice…"
"Sorry! Sorry…."
"…take it or leave it!"
"I'm sorry! I couldn't help it!"
"Yeah, well, I could've not told you…"
"I understand! Thank you!" Jess was trying so hard not to laugh. Then she wondered, "Why are they attacking now?"
"Well," Donia mused sarcastically. "I believe it started with someone issuing a stupid 'No Violence' rule…"
"It's not stupid!"
"…so now, no one thinks twice about getting some fun at our expense, us being poor defenceless, pacifist muggles and all."
"It's not a stupid rule! Is fear the only way to gain respect, for you?"
"There's only two ways to gain respect, Jess: fear and love, and I don't see Draco Malfoy leaving night time roses outside my bedroom door any time soon, do you?"
Jess squinted at the Slytherin muggle in disbelief. "You're not alright, up here, you know," she gestured at her own left temple in a circular motion. "Usually people who think like you have led troupes through Desert Storm, or something. I recall that, during that period of world history, you were busy throwing mud at my sandcastle on our school trip to Dorset Beach. So why is it that you're a xenophobic megalomaniac with delusions of dictatorial grandeur, Donia?"
Donia sniffed snootily, "Madness, Jess, is the perfect reaction to an insane world."
"What does that mean?"
"Didn't you get it? I thought it was rather clever…"
"Well, don't let me be the judge; I don't speak 'Crazy'."
"Crazy? Do you want to know what's crazy? A non-violence rule. Allowing the luxury of some higher moralistic value when our very survivals are at stake."
"Our survival is not at stake… yet…"
"Oh you think so, do you?" The Slytherin snorted cynically. "You're gonna get a nasty shock, in that courtroom, today."
And with that, she took off.
The odd encounters didn't end there, of course. Though they disagreed on many matters, Jess took Donia's advice to heart and began speedily making her way towards The Great Hall. At the top of the staircase, on the second floor, she took an unexpected turn to avoid The Bloody Baron and came upon Katie, lurking in the shadows.
"Err….Hi?" said Jess.
Katie approached, looking nervously about, like a deer sniffing the air for predators as it leaves the safety of a thicket.
Jess had flashes of 'Bambi' going through her head as she watched the blond emerge, eyes first.
"Hi, Jess," her friend twitched. "How…" she twitched again. "…are you?" Twitch! "Heard…" Twitch! Twitch! "…we might be…" Twitch! "…thrown out of…" Twitch! Shiver! Twitch! "…Hogwarts!"
Jess stared. "Are you alright, Katie?"
"Sure!" Twitch! "It's just that…" Twitch! "I've survived off nothing… but my stores …of candy…for thirty six hours….If they hadn't run out…I'd still be up in my dorm…safety, you know…I 'm…just…a little …jittery… Nothing a…. little band practice… won't fix…"
"Katie, we can't have band practice. There's no electricity…"
"Oh…" Twitch! "Oh dear…" Jitter jitter twitch! "Might need…to run…around the …quidditch pitch…a few…times...then…"
Make that a few hundred times, thought Jess.
"So I…guess I'll…see you…later…. Got to…walk around…feeling…a…bit….pent up….Then…I might just go…back to my room…after…I pee…Haven't…peed…for a while….get some sugar….out of ….my system…" Said Katie attempting a smile.
"Um…yeah…." Jess replied miserably.
One by one her friends were resorting to locking themselves up in their dorm rooms, a sure sign of psychological trouble. How many days had Donia just slept away since their arrival at Hogwarts? Now, Katie was barricading herself, not even coming out to eat proper food. And Sarah? Well, who'd seen her, the past couple of days? There was no getting through the Hufflepuff barricade. Trying to get a glimpse of Sarah was like hearing accounts of Big Foot, something, Jess was sure, that was a result of Sarah's own doing.
Oh! Shit! Jess remembered something and looked up to speak to Katie, but the Gryffindor muggle was gone.
"Oh Shit!" hissed Jess, with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Katie had said she wanted to walk around before going back to her room. Jess should've probably warned her about the Slytherins being on the rampage.
Maybe she'll be lucky enough to avoid them, Jess thought hopefully.
Yeah, and maybe I'll sprout wings instead of arms and lay an egg at the Ministry of Magic which will contain the cure to all things Voldemort related…
She took a deep steadying breath and prayed that, by some fluke, nothing nasty would happen to Katie as she wandered shakily around the castle.
Irony of ironies, it was Donia who ran into the first batch of guerrilla Slytherins.
She'd almost made it to the Great Hall, too, but there they were…standing in the doorway, four strapping boys, most of them from the quidditch team, of course.
For a split second, she definitely had a chance of slinking away unnoticed. Then, Draco turned around and their eyes met.
Fun, he thought, grinning at her wickedly. "Ready for round two, Muggle?"
Bring it on, bastard, she thought, advancing and rolling up her sleeves. "I owe you one for that flying goblet, Malfoy."
He stared at her. " 'No violence' rule?"
She paused mid-step, her hand still at her sleeve. Her eyes widened for a horror filled moment, then her face fell in disappointment. "Oh, fuck." She mumbled.
Draco's grin pounced back onto his face quicker than a Mexican jumping bean.
"Um!" began Donia as they advanced towards her and she took a step back. "Plan B!"
With that, she turned around on the spot and took off like a chased hare, sprinting as fast as she possibly could in the opposite direction.
"Hey!" yelled Draco. "Wha- ! Damn it! AFTER HER!"
The boys sprung forward, their feet thundering against the stone of the hallway.
Draco stood where he was, fists balled, knuckles white, anger rising in his gorge, knowing full well that his chance for some entertainment with his arch nemesis had just fled up the hall.
Time to move on to smaller fish.
Another muggle.
He smiled to himself, his mercury-coloured eyes narrowing with venom.
It was the Gryffindor muggle's turn to taste his wrath, and Draco's wrath usually tasted like blood.
Jess was lucky enough to just miss Draco as he swooped into the Great Hall like a vision of death. He was on the rampage, set on finding Crabbe and Goyle, since he'd already dispatched his more intelligent lap-dogs after Donia. Crabbe and Goyle would do nicely for the Gryffindor muggle.
He was so preoccupied that he barely sensed the Ravenclaw muggle entering behind him. Jess, too, hardly took note of him. Her eyes were searching for black hair, not blond. Her gaze was directed towards the Gryffindor table, not towards the Slytherins.
"Harry!" she called, waving and running towards him. She came to a panting stop by his side. "Hi, you two," she smiled quickly at Hermione and Ron and then turned her worry-grooved face back to him. "Any epiphanies over night?"
"Nothing," he shook his head sadly. Poor Harry had deep, purple pockets under his eyes, which only served to make his complexion more sallow. "I wracked my brains all last night…"
Jess drooped. "Should…should we just give up? Maybe we shouldn't go…"
"No!" cried Harry. "We're going to court. We have to try."
"He's right," interjected Hermione. "Actually seeing you and looking into your face might sway sympathy in your direction. And I'll be researching all I can, here, while all the deliberations are happening."
"That's right. And I've invited the press…" began Harry.
"You've what!" Ron and Hermione cried in unison.
"I've invited the press." stated Harry flatly.
"Harry…" breathed Hermione. "Why!"
"Because it's about time I got some use out of them." Said Harry between gritted teeth.
"You're mental," raved Ron. "You know that once you give them an inch, they'll take a mile. They'll never leave you alone again. EVER. For eternity!"
"I have to take that chance," replied Harry. "It's propaganda. I have to somehow convince the Wizarding world that we have to keep Jess, Katie, Sarah, Donia and Steph."
"What's 'propaga-'…" began Ron.
"They'll hound you, Harry." Hermione bit her lip. "They'll hound you and Jess. You could've at least asked her before you called the press…"
For a moment Harry appeared taken aback. He looked at Jess, a horrified expression on his face.
Jess swallowed loudly. "They…they can't be worse than the muggle press."
Hermione's face fell. "Oh, yes they can."
"Really? How?"
"The muggle press can't turn into beetles."
"What?"
Ron interjected. "Just take her word for it, Jess."
"Well, Harry's survived them, hasn't he? I mean…he's lived with them badgering him for years. I'm sure I'll manage. If it'll help the others and I stay at Hogwarts, then I'm up for it."
Harry smiled. "That's good of you. That really is."
"You don't know what you're getting into..." Began Hermione again, but then the boom of the doorway leading to the Professors' table opened and Albus Dumbledore emerged.
For a second, a pin could be heard dropping in the usually robustly noisy hall. Then, the hiss of chittering whispers ignited across the table like flame licking gasoline.
"It's Dumbledore!"
"Dumbledore? We haven't seen him in a while…"
"I hear he's been to Beauxbaton, trying to convince them to join the effort…."
"Really? I heard he was visiting his old mother…."
"Mother! Dumbledore doesn't have a mother!"
"Everyone has a mother, Lavender."
"Not Dumbledore!"
"Shut up, you two!" Hermione snapped at Parvati and Lavender. They scowled at her, but obliged as Professor Dumbledore approached their table.
Jess watched him. He too looked weary and troubled, his usually cheerful face lined with extra grooves.
"Harry," Dumbledore nodded at the boy. Jess saw a slight softening in his expression when he addressed Harry, an obvious heart-warming fondness. Then the old man turned to her and said, "Miss Frey."
She could do nothing but nod wordlessly, the lump in her throat was so large. Yet, she had a sneaking suspicions that a mischievous twinkle had come to Albus' eyes when they'd lighted on to her.
"Follow me, please," said the Headmaster. "Your escort is here."
Katie twittered and twitched down a hallway in the west wing of the castle. She'd realized she was lost about fifteen minutes ago but hadn't cared to turn back, at the time. She'd needed to clear her head, to walk in solitude.
Now that her head was cleared with fear and her heart was actively speeding, though, she wished that she'd stayed in her room, today.
People were following her. She was sure of it. There were scampering footsteps and giggling whispers that she could hear even if she couldn't see anyone behind her.
There were a lot of shadows in this hallway. Several times Katie caught herself peering long and hard into the blackness of a bend in the corridor. There were barely any paintings, and the ones that were up were somehow subdued or skitterish, sitting quietly huddled within their frames, eyes flicking from side to side as if they too were seeing things flitter in and out of the dark.
Katie walked a little faster, hoping she'd somehow find herself in a hallway with windows, but that didn't seem to be happening.
Someone sniggered behind her.
She spun around and stared. The corridor was completely empty behind her.
"H-h-Hello?" she whimpered.
Someone was definitely following her. Why would anyone be following her?
"Is…is anyone there…?" she paused. She heard running footsteps. Her heart leapt into her throat.
Whoever they were, they were now working in the open and rushing towards her.
With a cry of utter panic and terror, Katie took off, sprinting down the hallway blindly, completely unaware of where she was headed. It only took her a few seconds to realize that these people were herding her, chasing her deeper and deeper into the West Wing.
Oh my God, who are they! Her mind reeled as she sped down corridor after dark corridor.
They were directly behind her now; she could feel them almost catch her. Her lungs strained, her legs burned, her heart thundered and, still, she leaned forward desperately, the most basic instinct of survival overriding any logic, now.
Then, a hand appeared out of a coalescence of shadow and grabbed her by the shirt. She ran right into its grasp, shrieking because she knew she couldn't stop.
And then, more hands grabbed her, pulling her into the dark folds of the castle's architecture.
She tried to scream for help, but something was stuffed into her mouth. She struggled and scratched but her arms were twisted behind her and her legs kicked out from under her. Her limbs were bound with what she was sure was rope, and she was lifted clean off the floor by her bindings. She saw a black sack being opened in someone's grasp and started screaming and sobbing through her gag again.
But any attempt to attract attention was futile in this empty hallway and Katie found herself helpless as her kidnappers finally pulled the sack over her head, taking away her vision.
Jess and Harry got up from their places at the Gryffindor table, purposefully ignoring the questioning glances from the other inhabitants of the Great Hall.
"Good luck." Hissed Hermione desperately and Harry flashed her a grateful smile.
They followed Dumbledore up to the teachers' table, climbed up the dais, and walked through the door in the side wall into the room that Dumbledore had first taken Harry in year four, when the boy's name had just emerged from the Goblet of Fire.
Four men dressed in black robes waited in the room. Jess recognized Mr. Weasley instantly. She was slightly taken aback by the younger version of himself ( but with much more hair) standing right next to him.
Another Weasley spawn? Sheesh, wizards put cults to shame!
Standing next to this Weasley child was a tall, broad shouldered man of African descent, with an earring in an ear, and a sharp twinkle in his eye.
And finally…
"Remus," Harry smiled sadly and came forward to embrace his last remaining father figure.
"Hello Harry," Remus Lupin smiled as well, but with less of an effect. He looked more haggard than usual, his eyes bloodshot, lips dry and cracked. His face at relaxed automatically went into an expression of deep melancholy. As he and Harry stood back, Jess noted the protective grip Remus maintained on Harry's shoulder.
This man believes he could die at any moment, thought Jess heavily.
"Let me introduce you to your escort for the day, Miss Frey," said Dumbledore. "Arthur Weasley I'm sure you've recognized by now."
"Hello, Mr. Weasley," Jess nodded her head at Arthur, grinning at him as a feeling of familiarity and warmth expanded within her. "How've you been?"
"Well, thanks to you and your friends, Miss Frey," his grin back was more of a grimace. "I feel like I have to apologize for my own kind…"
"Please call me Jess, Mr. Weasley. And you shouldn't apologize for anything." she shrugged. "Wizards aren't all bad."
"How can you be so forgiving after-" began Mr. Weasley heatedly.
"Buck up, Dad. Let her be." The orange-haired young man came forward and offered his heavily burn-scarred hand. "Hi, I'm Charlie. I don't know if you know my brother, Ron…"
"Yes, I do," replied Jess taking his hand and shaking it firmly. "And your sister Ginny. And the twins…"
"Well, now. Been makin' friends, 'ave we?" The big, black man strode forward next and offered up his hand. He had to bend his knees slightly for the gesture not to be ridiculous as he peered down at the small girl. "I'm Kingsley Shackelbolt, an Auror."
"How do you do," mumbled Jess, starting to feel slightly overwhelmed. So many people seemed to know who she was. She caught herself wondering what the Wizarding world thought of her, exactly, what rumours had been spread, what tabloids had exploited her life and the lives of her friends.
"And last but certainly not least," Dumbledore gestured backwards. "That is Remus Lupin."
Jess could only stare.
"Hello," said Lupin.
"Are you the werewolf?" she blurted. Then, "I…I'm so sorry…"
"No, it's alright," he replied. "Is it easy to tell?"
"No…not really…" Jess searched his expression for any evidence of the savagery she'd heard Remus' kind possessed, but could find none asides from the old claw marks drawn across his face, and those could be misconstrued as the result of any normal animal attack.
"That's probably the nicest thing anyone's said to me lately," said Remus. "Yes, I am a werewolf, I'm afraid. Muggles know about werewolves?"
"Y-yes…just…in mythology…"
"Right," said Dumbledore lightly. "Time to take off. The proceedings are to start in ten minutes."
"Really? Where's the Ministry?" asked Jess surprised. "Is it in Hogsmede?"
"Hogsmede!" snorted Kingsley Shacklebolt. "It's in London, love."
"London!" exclaimed the muggle. "How're we going to get there in ten minutes?"
"Ah," said Dumbledore. He led the way to the farthest corner of the room, where a table was set up with nothing but a box of cornflakes on it. "This, Miss Frey…" said Dumbledore, pointing at the Kellogg's. "…is a portkey."
Donia's friends had often noted that, in a tough situation, she tended to fall back on the most basic of ancient instincts. It was either 'fight' or 'flight' with her, tendencies which, at a very young age, had tempted her friends to conduct experiments on just how quick on her feet their twitchy, sociopathic friend could be.
Right now, though, all the times Sarah or Katie had planned an ambush, or Steph and Jess had told a teacher on her were serving Donia well. Thanks to the promise she'd made to a person she'd dearly cared for, 'fight' wasn't an option.
So 'flight' it was, then.
And what a 'flight'!
If you didn't get out of her way, you were bowled over; it was as simple as that. People screamed and parted as the Slytherin muggle came careening around corners, chased by a pack of quidditch players, her arms bent at the elbows and swinging for momentum, her chest heaving, her thighs pumping away like bellows. Steam trains seemed less likely to completely annihilate you than the sprinting muggle. If you were lucky, she roared "MOVE!" as she bulldozed towards you. If you were unlucky you didn't see her coming till she was gone, and you were on the ground, on your back, with an aching head.
It didn't end there, either. If you were even unluckier, you didn't manage to roll out of the way before half the Slytherin quidditch team came stomping after the muggle. And they cared even less what part of you they stepped on so long as they kept the distance between them and their quarry small.
Donia began to realize this after about the fifth time she'd sped around the outside of the classrooms. The bell had rung minutes earlier so the corridors were full of students in transit. This did help her a little, leaving human landmines in her pursuers' way that she could easily dodge but were harder to avoid by the group of boys.
But her luck was going to run out sooner or later and she knew it.
She had to stop this chase, somehow. She had to find someone to help her. McGonagall was in class. Snape…well, he was in class too, but she'd rather get beaten up, anyway. She couldn't get her friends involved, and thanks to the 'No Violence' rule, what good were they?
She'd have to keep running. She'd run them into the dust if she had to.
Though, gauging from the sharp pain beginning to throb in her right side, she might run herself into the dust, first.
Apparently, quidditch players were healthy. Just her luck.
Gasping and wheezing, but still running like her life depended on it (which it did), she rounded a corner and came to a skidding, sliding halt right in front of a very surprised Lars.
He'd been standing around the hallway, his book open in his hand, his sleeves rolled up casually, his glasses perched on his straight, pointy nose. His eyes widened at her as she careened around the corner and came to a stop, doubled up, in front of him.
Wordlessly, he stared at her for a moment, then leaned over and stuck his head out to peer around the corner.
He could see Flint, Brossier and Nott violently shoving people out of the way at the end of the corridor, heading right towards him.
He pulled his head back just in time for the muggle to leap forward and grab him by the collar.
"Lars?" she snapped.
"Yes?"
"You know that talk we had yesterday about a time when you'd have to pick between your loyalty to Draco and your pro-muggle sympathies?"
"Yes," he replied numbly.
"You have to choose now."
He stood where he was, looking down into her desperate, sweaty face, emotionless with shock, silenced by the difficult place she was putting him in.
They could both hear the approaching, thundering feet coming their way. Any moment now, the Slytherins would round the corner and then the muggle would be done for.
"Choose," she hissed again, giving him a little shake by the lapels.
She could feel her heart sink within her, though, as she watched the light fade from his eyes. Deep within her, Donia knew what choice she'd make if she were in his place.
Jess would never get used to portkeys. It felt like being in a giant juicer, or washing machine, or cement mixer. When the sensation of being spun around at speeds that challenged human biology finally stopped, she found herself about a foot off the ground in a long, white hallway filled with fire places. Jess gave a shriek, falling through the air to land jarringly on her own feet and stumble into an equally confused Harry, knocking him over and landing on top of him. Then, as if all of that hadn't been disorienting enough, the muggle found herself blinded by consecutive flashes of bright light and deafened by the suddenly excited babble of reporters.
"Oh no," groaned Harry. "It's the press..."
"Harry! Harry!" someone was yelling. "Harry is it true that you've got a muggle girlfriend, Harry? Is that why you've thrown in your lot with the invaders?"
"Is that her Harry? Is that her? Your muggle girlfriend?"
"I don't have a girlfriend!" yelled Harry climbing to his feet and helping Jess up.
"Then, why are you showing your support for the invaders?"
"What invaders?" asked Harry bewildered.
"The muggle invaders at Hogwarts! The ones made mandatory by the Prime Minister!"
"Because...because..." Because he liked them? Because they were good people? Those were good reasons to him, but the Wizarding world wouldn't care. He needed a compelling reason for the muggles to be at Hogwarts. "Because they're fighting against Voldemort and need our protection."
"Ah yes, but who'll protect us, Harry? You?" said the young reporter standing at the very front of the crowd with his note book and quill in hand. Scattered laughter errupted from the crowd.
Harry's rage rosewithin him. "Well, I think I've done a good enough job so far, don't you?" he snapped.
There was a moment's shocked silence from the reporters.
Harry felt a hand firmly grip his shoulder. "There'll be no more questions for Mr. Potter and Miss Frey till after the hearing, thank you." said Dumbledore firmly,leading the both of them through the part in the crowd Kingsley, Remus, Charlie and Mr. Weasley were making.
As they walked down the secured hallway, away from the crowd of reporters Jess turned to look back at the thin man who'd mocked Harry. The reporters were parting ways in groups of three or four, probably going to get teaand something to eat, like muggle reporters...all except him. He stood alone, thin as a rake beneath his dirty detective's coat, black hair greased and plastered across his head, eyes glaring at Harry through his thick, coke-bottle glasses.
As if sensing the man's gaze burning a hole at the back of his head, Harry growled, "Who was that, Professor?"
It was Arthur Weasley who replied, "Oh him? His name's Everest Molehill, Harry. Bit of a trouble maker. Has a knack for turning the whole Wizarding world against the Ministry sometimes. Likes to cry 'wolf' a lot..."
"Oh great," spat Harry. "I just made an enemy out of Rita Skeeter in men's clothes..."
"I'm afraid he's worse than Rita Skeeter, Harry," said Remus. "Skeeter liked to fabricate stories. Molehill will take true things that you'd rather not have anyone know about, and blow them completely out of proportion."
Harry groaned. "Hermione was right. I've fucked us right over..."
"Language, Harry." Dumbledore said calmly.
"Sorry, sir." mumbled the boy.
The old wizard smiled at him, then turned and began walking down another hallway.
"Uh! Professor! Where are you going?"
"To have a word with the judge, Harry. I'll see you in a few moments…" Dumbledore turned and took off.
Harry looked slightly green, at this point. Jess, trying to subdue her own panic, decided to mentally assess the experience ahead of her.
"Are the press going to be at the hearing?" she asked, as Kingsley and Charlie opened two huge doors with 'COURTROOM' embossed on them in gold. The next moment she got the reply in camera flashes. "Ow..." she whimpered, blinking hard.
"Well, this is quite the turn out," said Kingsley, scratching his shaved scalp.
"Silence! Order!" The sound of a gavel being furiously slammed against its base resounded in the courtroom. "As barrister of the courts I demand order!"
Jess stared hard around at the raked pews as Charlie gently nudged her down the stairs between the seats. "Th-thank you."
"No problem. It is slightly over-whelming."
The courtroom was filled with people. It seemed that everyone and their mother had turned out to see what would become of the muggles at Hogwarts. "I didn't know we were such a big deal," she breathed.
"I still don't see why you are!" replied Harry.
"Can...can I ask something? I'm just slightly confused..." Jess scratched her purple bullseye insecurely as she took her seat at the very bottom of the raked seating. "Who are we up against?"
"What do you mean?" asked Harry.
"Who are we defending ourselves against? Are we 'The People' or are we the...you know...the 'Versus'...?" Jess noticed Remus smiling in the background.
"The likes of us aren't ever 'The People', Jess," said the older man.
"True enough," replied the muggle. "But that still doesn't answer my question. We know that Lucius Malfoy sent that letter about us to the Ministry, but who received it? And who's following it up?"
"Lucius Malfoy sent the letter?" Mr. Weasely suddenly spun around. Charlie and Shacklebolt too had looks of concern on their faces. "The anonymous complaint?"
"Yes," said Jess.
"How do you know this?" asked Remus.
"Um…" Well, one of my best friends thinks she's Lenin reborn and has managed to infiltrate the Slytherins' ranks with Bolshevics… Jess had the sudden mental image of Draco as the Tzar of Russia, tied to a tree, nose in the air with pride and martyrdom, being shot by an execution squad of the Slytherins as Donia stood in the background laughing manically.
Jess blanched. "Long story. And it's not important right now. What is important is that the Death Eaters obviously have someone doing their bidding within the ministry and we don't know who it is."
"Well, we'll find out soon enough. They'll be sitting right over there and we'll have to stare at their bloody, traitorous faces all through the proceedings," fumed Arthur, pointing to the Prosecutor's bench right next to theirs.
As if on cue, the Prosecuting Party emerged from a door at the back of the pews and began to descend, much to the pleasure of the restless reporters.
"Oh no," breathed Kingsley. "It's Carmella."
"Who?" asked both Harry and Jess at the same time.
"Carmella Mislethwaite. Only the best Prosecution Lawyer this side of the sixties," answered Remus. "Used to rally for Witches' Rights, back then, too. Quite the feminist…"
"You mean 'Femi-Nazi'…" growled Kingsley.
(Jess didn't want to mention it, but she had a 'Femi-Nazi' friend called Katie Dubois who would not have hesitated to kick Kingsley in the knee, at this point. Not to mention her other 'Femi-Nazi' friend Sarah Ogle…or her other, other 'Femi-Nazi' friends Steph Lalonde and Donia Sawwan).
Remus grinned at the big black man. "Kingsley! I never pegged you as the type of man to fear an ex-girlfriend!"
Oh, thought Jess feeling a smile quirk the corners of her mouth.
Charlie gasped, completely aghast, and leaned forward to whisper furiously at Kingsley, "You dated Carmella Mistlethwaite!" A look of utter shock/ pleasure permeated the younger Weasley's face. "Oh Kingsley! You dog! You man of steel; of rapier wit and brass balls! You-"
"Charlie! Please…"
"Hello, boys," came the cool feminine voice from behind them.
Jess and Harry had watched as the beautiful, tall, black woman with dyed copper corn-rolls and large, golden earrings, put her folders and papers down and approached the Defence bench, while the men were preoccupied with exploring Shacklebolt's past romantic exploits. She hadn't intentionally crept up on the gentlemen; her heels had been clicking and her long, velvet, imperial purple robes had been swishing against the granite of the court floor. She'd even cleared her throat politely and stood waiting for a few moments, smiling kindly at Harry and Jess, who looked back at her with mild embarrassment.
Now, Jess and Harry watched as all four men jumped and fidgeted and looked as guilty as children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
Harry rolled his eyes.
"Carmella!" Mr. Weasley rose to his feet and took her hand, warmly shaking it.
"Hello, Arthur, how are you? How's the kids? How's Molly?"
"Very well, very well indeed!"
She turned to Shacklebolt. "Hello, Kingsley," she said solemnly.
"How could you prosecute this case!" exploded Kingsley suddenly.
There was a moment's awkward silence.
The woman coolly blinked at him. "Weeeeell, the secretary put the file on my desk. I read what was inside and decided that this cause was worthy ofmy time. I picked up the phone and dialed the ministry..."
"That's not what I mean!" fumed Shacklebolt. "How can you bring yourself to throw those muggles out!"
"I have a feeling that you wouldn't care so much either way if I hadn't been prosecuting this case…" murmured Carmella.
"Kingsley, please," interjected Mr. Weasley. "I'm sorry Carmella,"
"It's quite alright…" she smiled at Arther.
"…but I really must ask…would you really deny protection to the children who saved my life?" Arther finished.
Charlie lookedat his father, an expression of worry and melancholy clearly etched on his face. Jess swallowed as she watched the calm, smile slide off Carmella's face. The prosecutor blanched a little beneath her dark skin and blinked rapidly as her lips became a hard line.
"Arther…I…I'm so glad that those girls saved your life," she replied in her deep, sincere voice. "But Hogwarts is no place for a muggle. They're harming the student body and themselves…"
"No we're not!" snapped Jess coming forward. "We're not harming anyone. Everything would be fine if the student body left us alone!"
"Well, I guess that's for you to prove," said Carmella, looking genuinely sympathetic.
"Please, we have no where to go…" began Jess.
"I'm sorry, but I have to think of our children's rights first." stated the Prosecutor turning away.
"J-Just a second, Carmella, I just have a question!" cried Remus pushing forward after her. Harry watched her turn hesitantly as if unwilling to lend herself to any more criticism. "Do you know who within the ministry received the Good Samaritan's letter?"
She flinched. "Oh dear. Please don't make me tell you, Remus."
"It would do us a great service if you did, Carmella."
She sighed wearily, looking morosely at Arther again. "My first witness did," she said. "He's-"
"All rise for the honourable Judge Scrimgeour!" cried the barrister.
Carmella looked frustrated and shrugged silently at Remus before they both went scuttling back to their respective seats. A door behind the dais opened, admitting a tall, thin, frowning man, eagle browed and stern-looking, with white tufts of hair fanning out from the side of his head and deep set dark eyes.
Jess felt intimidated by Rufus Scrimgeour. He was exceedingly tall but with none of Hagrid's hesitance or Dumbledore's kindness in him. He was a man who drew himself to his full height so he could put people in their place. Now, Jess did not sense any bias in him; he did not give the impression that he would favour the wizards over the muggles…he didn't give the impression that he would favour anyone at all. That was the off-setting thing about Rufus Scrimgeour. He seemed the type of man who took what he saw and made a straight decision without hesitation, without second thought. And Jess had no illusions as to what he would see when the 'evidence' was presented.
"Case number three hundred and seventy two, public verses Dubois, Frey, Lalonde, Ogle and Sawwan." called the barrister as Scrimgeour took his seat, confidently bending his long, crane-like legs and artfully sweeping his robe from under him.
Next to her, Harry suddenly tensed. She looked at him and found him staring intently at a spot slightly behind Scrimgeour. Dumbledore had materialised out of the same door the judge had walked out of and was quickly walking towards them.
"Thank you," snarled Scrimgeour. "You may sit."
"Sir," whispered Harry as Dumbledore took a seat next to him. "Where were you?"
"Bargaining, Harry. Bargaining." mumbled Dumbledore, preoccupied.
The barrister announced the case and Scrimgeour called for Carmella to stand. She stated her intent and he turned to the Defense table. Harry and Jess both stood for the Defense, but Harry was the one to speak, since Jess suddenly became incapable of making any sound. It took all her strength to simply stand in front of all the those displeased eyes, gaze lowered, shivering slightly.
Before she knew it, Harry's opening speech was done in a haze of sound. She had comprehended nothing of it, standing there, with her stomach churning violently.
"…I said 'You may take your seat'…"snapped Scrimgeour. Jess only had a moment to look up, startled, into his piercing glare before an already seated Harry and Remus nervously each grabbed one of her arms, pulling her into her seat.
Wow. I'm making a great impression, she thought furiously, going even redder.
Harry, who'd been observing her worriedly, found himself oddly reminded of Ron when he was embarrassed. He had to spend less time with redheads, he decided. But it's so hard to when they outnumber the rest of my friends two to one, he thought, turning in his seat and looking at Mr. Weasley and Charlie.
They didn't notice him. They were sitting on the edge of their seats, waiting for Scrimgeour to announce the first witness so that they could come face to face with the traitor in the ministry, the scoundrel working for Lucius Malfoy, carrying out his bidding from within.
"Right," said Scrimgeour. "Miss Mistlethwaite, you may proceed."
"Your honour," Carmella stood. "I would like to call out my first witness."
"Very well; call the first witness," rumbled Scrimgeour.
The barrister opened his mouth. "We call to the stand…."
Jess held her breath.
"…. Mr. Percival Weasely."
Flint and Nick Brussier came speeding around the corner, with McNair a few steps behind, only to find that Lars had caught the muggle and was actually doing their work for them.
Lar's face shone with sweat as he peeled her off the floor, where she'd fallen from his last strike, and rammed her hard against the opposite wall. Though this girl, this muggle was a tough one, Lars was still about a foot and a half taller than she was and it wasn't hard for him to do this.
"Good job, Lars!" exclaimed McNair as the battered muggle cried out with pain and rolled on the floor, her shirt pulling out of her uniform trousers, exposing her side.
"Yeah," said Flint more warily and with less enthusiasm. "Didn't think you had it in you…"
"Shut up, Flint," hissed Lars furiously wheeling around spitting in their faces. He paused only to give the muggle on the floor a sharp kick in the gut. She convulsed violently and coughed and retched as if she were about to bring up last night's dinner. Tears of pain streamed down her purpled face and her arms were folded desperately around her middle. "Just shut up! You've all doubted my loyalty,so there!" He kicked her again and she moaned wordlessly, though there was an evident plea for mercy in it. "There!" He cried again, his own voice breaking threateningly, as if he were on the verge of tears himself. "I hate hurting people but I've played your dirty little game! So you can just run to your fucking leader…your fucking god, Draco, and tell him that he won! Draco won! He's forced me to choose…he's won…"
Lars' chest heaved with emotion. The other boys backed away slowly, looking from their rabid classmate to the muggle, who now lay still, face down, in the hallway.
"Aren't you gonna need help gettin' her up to Pomfrey's?" wondered McNair as they turned to leave.
"Oh please," hissed Lars, lips drawn back with spite. "Let's not pretend we care, McNair. Your so called friends might start doubting your loyalty to your house, next…"
"We don't Lars," stated Flint as the other two turned and high-tailed it back up the corridor. "Not anymore, at any rate. I'll tell Draco. He'll be pleased." And with that, he was gone.
Lars stood there, frozen at what he'd just dared to do. There was no turning back, now. In a way, it felt better to have made a decision, to have taken the plunge and made the choice. Taking a few hesitant steps forward, he turned the corner to see the last of his housemates as they sped away from the scene of the crime, completely confusing the people who were leaping out of their way for the second time in five minutes.
Then, he spun around and walked back to the muggle's prone form on the floor. Bending low, he took her hand and hauled her to her feet.
"Well," said Donia cheerfully, dusting off the front of her clothes. "That went rather well, don't you think?"
"The tears were a nice touch," Lars nodded approvingly.
"Thank you, I'm quite the actress," she smiled, smoothing back her hair. "You weren't half bad yourself. I quite liked the dramatic banishment: 'Go! Leave me in peace! I am tortured and filled with regret by what I have done in the name of loyalty!'"
"Yes, well, I couldn't very well pretend I was enjoying it. My peers might be dim, but they'd surely see through that."
Donia laughed as they strolled in the opposite direction from the one his classmates had taken, hands in their pockets, Lars' retrieved book tucked neatly under his arm.
"Why'd you pick me, Lars?" she asked him suddenly.
"Eh?' he stumbled, caught off guard.
"Why would a popular Slytherin quidditch player, who's good friends with Draco Malfoy, side with a muggle?"
"Just because I'm in Slytherin doesn't make me a muggle hater…"
"It doesn't?" she gasped with mock surprise. "But you fulfil all the criteria, Lars…"
"The only criteria I fulfil being in Slytherin is that of ambition and cunning, Donia," he replied, with some irritation at her sarcastic tone. "Salazar Slytherin never said 'I want bigots and inbred Nazis in my house.'"
"Well, he might as well have, making sure that only purebreds got in," she argued.
"Purebloods, Donia, not purebreds. We're not horses." Lars sighed; she had a point. "There are lots of pureblood families who don't care about that sort of thing. The Weasleys, the Diggorys, the Lovegoods and Longbottoms…"
"Yes and none of them are in Slytherin," Donia insisted. "I'm asking you. Why weren't you really beating me up, back there? You have a lot to lose. Draco's favour is at the top of that list…"
"I don't care what Draco thinks." spat Lars, a little too vehemently for someone who didn't care.
"Of course you do," said Donia quietly. They'd gone outside the castle and were walking along the edge of the lake, watching the squid break the surface of the black water. The sky rumbled darkly, signalling that if anyone had thought they'd have a relatively mild October, they were sorely mistaken. The wind was bitterly cold and the Scottish moors to the west of the school looked desolate and hostile. "He's your friend. Not just that, he's obviously someone your house puts a lot of faith in. It's hard to go against someone like that."
There was a silence.
Donia pulled her robe tightly around her and wondered how Lars walked around in only his shirt without freezing.
He took a breath and spoke, "My family was pureblood German nobility, directly related to the Kaiser," Donia raised her eyebrows signalling that she was impressed despite having previously known this. "We of all people know what it feels like to be shunned by a social order. At first when we were ousted from power we could hide and pretend we were…middle class or something. But…then Hitler came into power…" He shook his head violently. "Look, the bottom line is, I know what can happen when a society folds in on itself like we do, in Slytherin House, or like the Death Eaters. I don't want to be part of it. It never turns out well and I've tried to tell Draco this, but…he has his beliefs…"
Donia nodded wordlessly, her face twisted in mute sympathy.
"Look," he took her hand suddenly. "It's alright, really. I've always kept my own council anyway. Never do what I'm told." He grinned wickedly. "Must come with being a 'fag' I suppose."
Donia gave him a bitter sweet smile at the derogatory reference to his sexuality, then she squeezed his hand briefly in return, quickly letting go before anyone could see and wonder at this unusual alliance between a muggle and a Slytherin.
For a moment, Lars actually thought that there might be a chance they'd walk in silence for a while, but what little hope he had was shattered in about three seconds when the girl took a breath and contemplatively said, "Why Draco Malfoy anyway? What's so special about him? What's his appeal?"
The boy stared at her in amazement. "You really can't see it?"
"Lars, I obviously can't see it; when my dreams actually include Draco, they always consist of him being strung up by an angry mob in my honour. Just different locations. Once in revolutionary France, once as a sacrifice infifteenth century Mongolia…"
"I guess that could be considered sexy, in certain circles..."
"Lars!"
Helaughed. "Alright, alright, I shall not even joke about you and Draco not loathing each other." Then, he frowned uncomfortably as he contemplated her initial query. "Why Draco Malfoy? My God, there's a loaded question."
"It wouldn't be, if you weren't so in love with him."
"Well I- WHAT?"
"You heard me."
He gaped. Then, he blanched. Then, he attempted to scoff. "I'm not in love with Draco! Really, Donia, I don't know where you get such….such …"
"How does Draco like his tea?"
"He doesn't, it stains his teeth…Oh shit!"
"A-HA!"
"Damn it!"
She leered. "It's alright, Lars, I doubt anyone else knows."
"Well, Muggle, it's not been fifteen whole minutes since I've helped you and you're already making me regret it."
Looking at him disdainfully over her shoulder she replied, "I never asked you to help me."
"Yes, you did! You grabbed me by the lapels, shook me like a ratand asked me to choose…"
"Do you have any proof?"
"What? Well, no."
"Sucks to be you, then, doesn't it."
Lars laughed and laughed and laughed.
Donia stared at him out of the corner of her eyes. "What's with you?"
"Oh nothing. It's just that you two are so similar."
"Us two who?"
"You and…oh…never mind…"
The world was darkness.
Darkness and a close, scratchy bag over her head. Her own breathing and whimpering sounded loudly in her ears, certainly much louder than the furtive whispers and scarce footsteps of her captors. She was jerked and joggled none too gently for about ten minutes as her kidnappers ran noiselessly down corridors, pausing to hide from passers by and send out scouts to check the hallways ahead.
They were very well organised, whoever they were, leaving nothing but helplessness and fear in Katie's mind. She was trussed up like a fly in a spiderweb, gagged and blinded, waiting for the end to come.
Her captors came to a hault. Someone whispered something and a soft scraping was heard.
That's a painting! I'm being taken to a common room! It IS the Slytherins after all! Oh NO! OH NO! OH NO!
Sure enough, the murmurings were louder now, as if the room were full of people.
"Put her in front of the throne…" someone whispered.
Draco has a throne! Oh my God they really ARE a cult!
Her fear rose in her throat again as she felt them cuther bindings, replacing them with cruel, hard hands, with iron-like gips,to keep her down.
Then, there was morefumbling at the rope tying the black bag around her head; Katie knew who she'd see whenit came off her face… white blond hair gleaming in a decidedly creepy light…surrounded by his minions.
Yes, Katie had no doubt that the moment the bag was lifted the person she'd see before her was…
"SARAH!" Katie shrieked in utter and absolute disbelief.
"Sssssshhhhhh!" hissed Sarah leaning forwards on her yellow armchair. She whispered, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to have one of your best friends kidnapped and brought to you trussed up like a Yule tide turkey, "Katie, glad you could come. I have very important information regarding…well, you, that you need to know. It would be highly dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands."
"Wha…How…Huh!" Katie felt the room spin dangerously.
"Shhh!" hissed Sarah again. "I would advise you to keep your voice down. The walls have ears here…"
"But…Sarah!" sobbed Katie.
"No, really! Really, Katie they have ears!" said Sarah insistently.
Katie thought vaguely that her friend had gone quite around the bend.
"Yesterday, I kidnapped Ron…"began Sarah.
"WHAT!"esplodedKatie.A gaggle of Hufflepuffs, who'd been lurking in the shadows (Yes! Hufflepuffs! Lurking!) sprang forward, putting their hands over her mouth and hissing "SHHHH! SHHHH!" in unison.
Sarah had recoiled violently from the noise. "Please! Katie! I've been working in a very quiet environment for a while, now, and I've become quite sensitive to noise!"
"YOU'VE FLIPPED YOUR FUCKING LID, SAR-mmmph mmmmmmmmmpphh mmmph!"
"So yesterday, I kidnapped Ron," went on Sarah, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the re-gagged Katie seemed eager to claw her throat open. "And brought him here. Oh, he was a tough nut to crack, but after some excursive interrogation methods he finally spilt his beans…"
Oh my God, they tortured Ron, thought Katie, feeling the room spin for the second time in five minutes.
"And do you know what I found out?" Sarah leaned even closer so that her face was hardly a centimeter away from Katie's, her large blue/grey eyes excessively wide with enthusiasm.
"MMMMPH MMMMHPHM MUUUPMHHMMM MMMOH!" said the struggling Katie, which, without the gag, would have meant, "Sarah I'm going to kill you. I'm going to kill you until you are sorry."
"I found out that he's not going out with Hermione!" squeaked Sarah with an expression that would have been radiant joy if it hadn't looked manic.
"Mmmph?" said Katie staring in shock.
"He's NOT going out with Hermione! Hasn't been for months, now!"
"Mmmmnph ummmp mmmmumph?"
"Of course I'm sure! What do you mean 'Am I sure'? My interrogation methods are fail-safe!"
For a moment Katie became lost in ecstasy. Ron…Ron's been asking me out…He's not a bastard! He's not a serial monogamist! He's…He's…
He must think I'm a complete idiot, she thought suddenly, her heart sinking after its initial lift. I've got to make it right! I've got to find him and tell him…I'll ask him to go out with me! I'll make the move! I'll make it up to him!
But first…
She came back into the room. She had to get away from the crazies….
Sarah and few of the Hufflepuffs were peering into her face, wondering where she'd gone.
Oh dear. How was this going happen?
"Um…Mmmmuph mumphmuphm…" mumbled Katie.
"What? What did she say?" demanded Sarah, as if maybe some of the lesser Huffles had caught it. "Take the gag out. Take it out!"
Someone pulled the cloth out of Katie's mouth.
Katie breathed in thankfully and thought very carefully about what she was going to say next. "Um…Thank you, Sarah, for that…highly…dangerous…information…but I must go now…."
"Go?" Sarah looked confused.
"Well, yes," Katie felt panic gibber at her again. Could Sarah be intending to keep her here forever! Or maybe kill her because, now that Katie knew that Ron wasn't actually going out with Hermione, she was too dangerous to live? "Yes…to put your…HIGLY useful information into action. To…to find Ron…"
Sarah's face brightened. "Oh, of course! Of course! That's what you should do, of course!"
"Oh!" Katie sighed with relief. "Good…"
Sarah turned to the Hufflepuffs. "Don't forget to gag her."
"WHA-" screamed Katie as someone stuffed the cloth back into her mouth and the black bag over her head again.
"Well we can't just let you go," said Sarah as Katie felt ropes rebind her arms and legs. "You could lead them back to our hiding place. That would never do…"
Ten minutes later, the Hufflepuff escort emerged back in the fateful corridor where they first captured Katie. It had taken longer to carry her back because she'd fought and shrieked and buckled and kicked the entire way, despite her bonds.
Wearily and gladly, they put her down, trying for gentle but not quite achieving it because of how ferociously she was struggling. Then, quickly and efficiently, they cut her bonds and melted into the shadows as she struggled to rip off the black bag herself and pull the gag out of her own mouth.
The last thing they heard as they stealthily hurried back to their head quarters was the ragged, enraged cry of, "SARAH! I KNOW WHERE THE STUPID HUFFLEPUFF COMMON ROOM IS!"
"PERCY!" yelled both Arthur and Charlie, leaping to their feet.
"Order! ORDER!" roared Scrimgeour, glowering furiously.
Harry groaned deeply and covered his face with his hands.
Jess just thought she'd heard wrong and turned about her for confirmation from someone…anyone. A Weasley? Another one? He was the first witness? The traitor doing Lucius Malfoy's bidding from within the Ministry?
Lupin stared at the young man emerging from the back of the courtroom and striding to the witness box, lips pursed with displeasure and shock. Shacklebolt took a deep breath and let it out very slowly; his eyes followed Percy Weasley as the younger man took the stand.
"Percy!" cried Arthur. "What are you doing?"
Jess was surprised by the look this Weasley gave his father. If he hadn't fit the genetic blueprint of Weasleyhood ( the bright orange hair and freckles, the pointy nose and lankiness), she would have doubted he belonged to the same family. His expression was one of belittlement and scorn.
"It's alright, Dad," fumed Charlie, grabbing his father's arm and supporting him back into his seat. "He's being a right prick…"
"QUIET." demanded Scrimgeour. "Anymore outbursts from your table, Mr. Potter, and I'll have the lot of you tossed out."
The Defense table fell silent, but Jess could audibly feel the waves of outraged betrayl coming off Arthur and Charlie Weasley.
Carmella rose from her table and approached Percy as the Barrister swore him in. Jess realised that she only had a few moments to quickly ask Harry what was happening.
"He's another of Ron's brothers?" she whispered.
"Yes." he hissed back.
"And he's a Death Eater?"
"Percy? I don't think so…"
"Then why's he helping Lucius Malfoy?"
"I couldn't tell you, Jess. I'm sorry."
She blinked at him, really registering his expression for the first time since they entered this whirlwind of a court. He looked pale and worn and hopeless.
What am I doing? I have to help Harry! I can't just sit here and gawk, like an imbecile!
"Don't apologize," she gripped his hand firmly. "You're not omnipotent."
They turned back to the proceedings in time to hear Percy reply to one of Carmella's questions.
"…I knew I couldn't ignore the possibilities that the letter's content was true," said Percy proudly. "I launched an investigation into the possibilities that these muggles were being harboured at Hogwarts and low-and-behold, they were true."
Carmella went to her bench an picked up a sealed clear bag with a flattened piece of paper in it, holding it up to show the court. "Is this the Good Samaritan's letter?"
"Of course that's it," Percy sniffed, then smiled, his nose pointing upwards. "I provided it."
Scrimgeour rolled his eyes. Arthur, Charlie and Harry groaned quietly.
"Prosecution wishes to present item 61275, your honour. Letter from Good Samaritan." said Carmella.
"Proceed," snarled Scrimgeour leaning his jaw on his hand in an abject expression of weariness with all this stupidity.
"Hang on just one sodding minute!" yelled Jess furiously leaping to her feet. Scrimgeour jumped visibly, startled by the sudden outburst, instinctively reaching for his gavel and slamming it down violently. Carmella spun around, staring at Jess in surprise, as if she hadn't anticipated that this girl could make a peep of noise, let alone openly oppose her.
"Order! Order!" yelled Scrimgeour.
"I believe the term is 'Objection, your Honour'." suggested Lupin, leaning forward to whisper to Jess and Harry.
Dumbledoregiggled quietly.
"Objection your Honour!" stated Jess.
"Overruled, Miss…Miss…" Scrimgeour frowned, annoyed.
"Frey," snapped Jess.
"Sit down, Miss Frey."
"Objection your Honour" insisted the girl, still standing. Jess was very aware of the sudden buzz of noise and blinking of camera flashes permeating the atmosphere. She was very aware of the rest of her team sitting perfectly still, expecting her to mess this up. She was also very aware that Harry was gaping up at her fearfully.
Oh close your mouth, Harry, you're not a goldfish, she thought with venom.
"Sit, girl!" howled Scrimgeour.
"I will not sit and I am not 'Girl'. I am Jessica Marie Frey and I stand for the Defense, because someone has to in this hypocritical charade of a court hearing!" she howled back.
"Um…your honour?" began Carmella but Scrimgeour cut her off, flaring his nostrils with frustration at Jess, exclaiming, "But we haven't started the proceedings yet, what have you got to object to?"
"You can't admit that evidence if we've never seen it!" said Jess.
"Yes, well, I've seen it and I think it's relevant so you're over ruled!" replied Scrimgeour.
Jess gaped at him furiously, then sat down heavily, lips pressed firmly together in displeasure.
"Nice try," said Harry softly.
Jess fumed.
"Proceed, Miss Mistlethwaite." snarled Scrimgeour.
"Mr Weasley," said Carmella. "Could you please tell the court why this letter came to your attention?"
"Well, it was the idea that these muggles were harming students at Hogwarts and getting away with it," he turned and glared at Jess hatefully. "THe fact that due to a certain eccentric headmaster's affinity for experimentation with his students' safeties, the education and comfort of people at Hogwarts was being compromised…"
"You little SHITE!" snapped Charlie leaping to his feet.
"For God's sake ORDER!" yelled Scrimgeour losing his patience. "Officers, please escourt Mr. Weasley out of the courtroom!" For a moment the standing aurors were confused as to which Mr. Weasley they should remove, but they quickly scampered to Charlie when Scrimgeour gave them a mortifying glare.
"They saved our father's life, you ungrateful bast-" screamed Charlie as he was being man-handled violently.
"Unlike other people who take liberties with their jobs at this Ministry, I follow protocol," cried Percy at his brother spitefully. "You might believe that five little muggle girls could have stood against The Dark Lord, but don't ask me to be so gullible! Knowing his-" Percy pointed at his father as if saying the man's name would leave a bad taste in his mouth. "…knowing his infatuation with muggles, he probably made the whole thing up to help Dumbledore with some odd little plan to embarrass the Ministry!"
"ORDER, DAMMIT!"
"The Ministry, the Ministry! You act like you're the only one who cares about the Ministry, Percy! This is not about the Ministry!" cried Arthur helplessly.
"Well, to me, it is." replied the snot.
"QUIET!" screamed Scrimgeour coming to his feet.
Everyone froze.
"Anymore outbursts," threatened the judge. "And I'll have the perpetrators tossed into Azkaban for a day or two. See how vocal you are after that."
In the silence, people could still hear Charlie raging outside the doors to the courtroom where several aurors were detaining him.
"I suddenly don't like this Weasley very much," whispered Jess eyeing Percy with distaste.
"There's one in every family," growled Shaklebolt "If you're lucky, they're just mildly eccentric. If you're not, they're nasty little buggers, like Percy Weasley, there."
"My brother Aberforth really liked to wrestle rams, when we were younger…" said Dumbledore mildly, all of a sudden.
"Rams? What, like…male goats?" whispered Harry before Jess grabbed his arm to alert him to what was happening on the stand.
"…The first thing we did was launch an investigation to see whether it was true that there were muggles actually residing at Hogwarts. Needless to say, we found a plethora of information confirming our worst fears and many witnesses came forward to corroborate the happenings." Percy looked awefully chuffed with himself.
"And all the witnesses here to day have been thoroughly examined by expert interrogators from the Ministry?" asked Carmella.
"Of course," said Percy proudly.
"I wonder if they used Veritaserum…" muttered Harry, gleaning shocked looks from Lupin and Mr. Weasley. "It's just a thought."
"Your Honour," Carmella turned to Scrimgeour. "Be advised that the witnesses mentioned have been agreed upon by the ministry's Interrogative Off-"
"Yes, yes, get on with it." snapped the man, twirling his gavel listlessly in his hand.
Carmella blinked agitatedly for a moment, before continuing with her questioning. "And what conclusion did you arrive at from your investigation, Mr. Weasley?"
Percy paused, for the sake of dramatics, before looking straight at Jess, down the bottom of his nose, and stating loudly, for all the court to hear, "The muggles are openly malicious and harmful to the other students at the school…."
"WHAT!" screamed Harry before he could stop himself. Murmurs exploded from the press in the back rows and cameras flashed like firecrackers.
Scrimgeour rolled his eyes and slammed his gavel down with boredom, as if he'd given up on this crowd. The crowd hadn't so hastily forgotten his threat about Azkaban, though and they fell quite quickly.
"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," smiled Carmella. "You may step down-"
"Hang on a sec," said Jess loudly, standing up. Percy's hard stare at her had brought her blood to a boil. She was going to burst their little bubble if it was the last thing she did. "I want to question the witness myself now…"
"You've got to be joking…." said Carmella turning to Scrimgeour in disbelief.
Scrimgeour looked at Jess in surprise for a moment, face devoid of emotion as if he didn't know how to react to this. The courtroom was very quiet. Then, suddenly, his lip quirked upwards on its left side. "On the contrary, Miss Mislethwaite. Have you ever heard of a case without Defence? Come forward, Miss Frey. The witness is yours…"
Swallowing hard and egging herself on, while avidly trying to ignore a sudden nervous pressure in her bladder, Jess stepped out from behind the Defence bench. She should have been a lot more scared; she should have been completely unable to move or speak, but Percy's open, shameless ignorance of the true state of things angered her.
They think they know us. They think they know me, but they Don't Know Me…
She stood before Percy and seethed beneath his poised, mildly distasted gaze. HE doesn't even consider me human… I'll show you!
"Mr. Weasley," she began. "Did you write the letter?"
Murmurs of surprise. Percy scoffed at her simple-mindedness. "No, of course not," he looked like he wanted to add 'you silly girl' to the end of that sentence. "I merely received it…"
"Merely?" Jess was acidic in her sarcasm. "Seems to me that no one ever merely receives a letter…."
"Get to the point, Miss Frey," growled the judge.
"Gladly," spat Jess. "Mr. Weasley did you ever wonder who sent you the letter?"
"The Good Samaritan…" Percy had began to answer her with confidence, then, realising how lame he was sounding, stumbled on his words, looking slightly worried.
The press giggled and more camera's flashed. Percy went magenta (quite reminiscently of Ron) and snapped, "Well is that relevant? The letter told the truth!"
"Of course it's relevant because it wasn't telling the truth!"
"Oh really! And who do you suppose sent it, then?" Percy was venomously leaning forward in his seat.
"Lucius Malfoy."
The low level of noise in the courtroom died to silence to so fast that Jess thought they must have created a vacuum. Then she thought that she'd suddenly gone deaf. Then she realised just how weighty her words were. Even the reporters were hesitating before recording this, looking worriedly towards the Aurors, worried if their recording equiptment was going to be confiscated.
Scrimgeour was sitting straight as a poker in his chair, dumbfounded into numbness.
Percy looked downright nauseous. He was the first to make a sound. "Wha…wha…no!…" He mumbled.
"OBJECTION!" shrieked Carmella leaping to her feet.
Noise exploded, sending invisible shockwaves that rocked the room and echoed off the high ceiling as reporters got up to rush to their papers to get this one the first page.
The gavel came slamming down violently and Scrimgeour was no longer messing around. Everyone froze to see how this was going to turn out.
The judge dashed Carmella's objection with one heavy, "Overruled." before he leaned forward, like an old, leering vulture, the tufts of grey hair at the sides of his egg-like head and the frown of his bushy eyebrows flaring like declamation flags, and quietly said, "Miss Frey."
Jess gulped.
He went on. "Do you have any proof of this?"
Jess blinked. "…p-proof?"
"Yes. Proof."
Disappointed murmuring fell like cold water over the flame of enthusiasm she'd started a moment ago. She could hear a couple of groans of discontent coming from the Defence table. Harry and Lupin, it seemed, could not help but vocalise their distress.
"No…I don't have any proof…" she felt like someone had pulled her spine out of her back.
"Then please refrain from tossing around accusations of that extremity," pleaded Scrimgeour with frustration. "Motion to disregard Miss Frey's…bizarre…claim."
Jess went back to the Defence table and slumped down next to Harry. Perhaps it was a testimony to how badly she'd tanked in her attempt at cutting out Percy's testimony that Harry leaned forward and gave her a brief, bracing hug.
"Nice try," he whispered. "We had them for a second, there…"
"We still have them," said Lupin suddenly. "Jess's accusation may be unfounded but it certainly brings a shadow of doubt to Percy's investigation."
Carmella was standing up again, now. "Your Honour, I would like to call in my next witness."
"See?" smiled Lupin. "You've compromised Percy. Taken away his moment of glory."
Indeed Percy looked confused and livid as he stepped down from the witness box, as if he'd been hit by a car and couldn't understand why.
"Right," said Carmella. "Your Honour, I would like to call upon Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy."
Steph was not impressed when she found herself the only muggle at the breakfast table. She was even less impressed when she realised that this was probably the eighth day she'd gone without coffee and her hands were beginning to shake slightly. This brought to mind other concerns of the muggle kind: like batteries, and deodorant and contact with what she was beginning to think of as 'The Outside World'.
There were no televisions, in this world, or radios, or phones, or computers, (or newspapers that weren't ridiculous). Sarah had mentioned at one point that the Hufflepuffs had a television in their common room that they watched 'Buffy: The Vampire Slayer' on, but apparently without running electricity of some sort the Huffs could only run it for that one hour a day when the show was on.
That was nice and all but what would happen when Steph needed other machinery to work? Not even a calculator worked properly inside Hogwarts and she needed one of those for her Algebra. She was already falling frightfully behind on her studies and there was no time to pussyfoot around anymore, considering that she and the girls might actually be back in the muggle world again before too long if the Ministry managed to oust them out of the school.
The thing that bothered her the most, though, was definitely the distinct lack of coffee.Why was there no coffee in this God forsaken stone refrigerator on the Scottish moors?Stephanie was finding it exceedingly difficult believing that these wizards hadn't heard of coffee, especially with the amount of homework they always seemed to be getting. Really, coffee would make things so much easier to bare rightnow…
Before she knew what she was doing, Steph found herself rising from her seat and heading towards the corridor where Snape's classroom was. She needed to talk to Hermione. She needed to find out where the kitchens were. There was bound to be coffee in the kitchens, and Hermione knew where the kitchens were.
Albeit the girl was probably half way through a class right now.
And albeit that class was currently being taught by Steph's worse enemy, Snape.
But coffee called.
Or rather her blood called. For coffee.
Was she imagining things or could she actually smell it, now?
Ron and Hermione were just getting out Snape's classroom.
"Thank God that was over early. I didn't think I could hold much longer!" moaned Ron twisting his legs around each other and clutching his stomach.
"Really, Ron, sometimes I'm amazed by what your sex finds funny. You really overdid that hydrating hex. What would you have done if Snape hadn't let us out early?" tutted Hermione.
"I'd have gone in a beaker…" replied Ron without missing a beat, showing that he'd actually been desperate enough to contemplate this and come up with an actual plan.
Hermione looked horrified. "Ron! That's disgusting! We use those for potions' ingredients!"
"Hermione! Did you have a better solution?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Almost any solution is better than your urine, Ron."
"Oh, ha." he snapped rudely, still standing with his knees together. "Oi, look. Is that Steph coming towards us? She looks a bit ill, eh?"
"Hi Steph," said Hermione frowning.
"Hermione! I need your help!" cried Steph. She was pale as a sheet and her brow was shiny with clammy sweat.
"Are you alright?"
"No, I'm going through withdrawl." replied the muggle shaking ever so slightly. "Where are the kitchens?"
Hermione told her.
"Right," Steph smiled weakly and turned to go. "Thank you." She stopped and turned back. "Why are you out early?"
"Snape had to leave," replied Hermione. "He's going to court to testify against you and your friends, I'm afraid…"
"He what!" Steph's slightly muddy gaze turned a fiery neon blue and she gnashed her teeth. "He's not allowed to do that!"
Ron and Hermione looked at each other confused. Ron said, "Sorry, Steph, but, mostly, Snape's allowed to do whatever the hell he pleases. Hard to believe, we know. We've had issues with it for years, now…"
"He is not allowed to do as he pleases!" seethed Steph, spittle flying, foot stamping, fists clenched in utter rage. It was obvious that the initial caffeine jitters had morphed into full-fledged enraged shivering. "I swear, Severus… when you set foot in this castle again…"
They never heard what she intended to do with Snape; she turned towards the kitchens too soon.
"Do you think they're all mad?" asked Ron vaguely.
"Ron, I'm muggle born."
"Um...yeah, Hermione."
"Oh, shut up. We've just gotten ourselves a batch of really weird ones, that's all," replied Hermione watching the redhead stalk away from them.
They watched her for a few more seconds before Ron suddenly groaned in agony and gurgled, "Oh…God…nearest…bathroom…where…"
"Hmmm?" Hermione was still staring after Steph, a mildly suspicious expression on her face. "Oh, there isn't a boy's bathroom on this floor, remember?"
But Ron had already taken off, hobbling, like a madman, in search of a loo.
Hermione stood where she was, deep in thought. "Ron, she called Snape by his first name. What do you suppose that means? Ron?…Ron? Now, where did he get to?"
"Oh, this is just great," spat Arthur dejectedly.
"Narcissa?" Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. "He's letting Narcissa take the stand? Who's next, Greyback?"
"Please don't tempt fate, Harry," muttered Lupin as the courtroom quietened down and Mrs. Malfoy walked up to the podium.
Jess was surprised to note that Draco was very much his father's son. Narcissa was definatly not of the same ashy stock, though blond she certainly was. Her hair was not fine, but thick and ringlet filled, the deep, gleaming gold often described in fairy books but not so often found in nature. Her skin was more peaches and cream than her son's alabaster and her features more heart shaped and rounded than the pointy severity that seemed to run in Lucius' bloodline.
Yet, strangest of all were the few but striking similarities between dame and son. First of all, Draco carried himself like she did, not like his father. Lucius's tread was heavy; Narcissa 'swept', she didn't walk. Draco was the same way; he tended to dance into a room, just as his mother was waltzing in to the witness stand now.
Just before she actually sat down, Narcissa turned and trained her blue-greyeyes on Jess. Yes, Draco had definitely inherited those from his mother…and been taught just how to narrow them maliciously by her, too.
"State your name, please," said the Barrister.
"Narcissa. Black. Malfoy" said the woman like this was an Earth-shattering revelation.
"Occupation?"
"…Housewife."
"Or bitch from hell…" hissed Harry through gritted teeth. Apparently, he was too loud. Several gasps were heard at the infamous Harry Potter's language and many of the reporters began to frantically scribble instantly. Narcissa's lips barely quirked in his direction.
"Please, Harry," moaned Lupin. "You're not making this any easier."
Harry was humiliated and sank in his seat, cheek bones a fire. This was simply one more heartbreak in a day chalk-full of them, and Jess barely noticed as she leaned forward to stay engaged in what was happening in front.
"Mrs. Malfoy," began Carmella. "You were a student of Hogwarts yourself, were you not?"
"Yes I was," confirmed Narcissa smiling sweetly at the flashing cameras (something else that bore the resemblance to Draco). "I was a Head Girl…"
"Was she ever," sniggered Arthur. Shacklebolt and Harry giggled at this. Lupin rolled his eyes, Dumbledore gave no impression that he'd heard and Jess momentarily felt like if this weren't about her and her friends, she'd gladly switch sides. As with most things, when the guys felt threatened, they turned everything into a sexual slur.
Carmella had turned to give the boys a quietening glare; Narcissa had merely remained aloof and amused as if nothing they could say could ruin whatever she had coming.
"What is your link to Hogwarts now, Mrs Malfoy?"
"My son goes there."
"Your son?"
"Yes. Draco. He's a Prefect at Hogwarts…" gushed Narcissa.
"That's not good," whispered Remus worriedly. "Mentioning that Draco's a Prefect makes him a reliable source. Prefects areusually highly dependable students…"
"And do you keep up communication with your son while he's away?" asked Carmella.
"Of course," replied Narcissa. "Draco may protest, but being sixteen only makes him in greater need of parental guidance."
"From your statement to the Aurors, it has been understood that you've recently had conversation with your son regarding the muggles…" began Carmella.
"She's leading the witness! She's leading the witness!" hissed Remus prodding Jess in the side.
"Objection, your honour!" yelled Jess. "She's leading the witness!"
"Rephrase your question, Miss Mislethwaite," Intoned Scrimgeour, twirling his mallet.
"Mrs. Malfoy, have you spoken to Draco recently?"
"Yes."
"Did he talk about school?"
"Yes."
"Could you give us a run down of what he said to you?"
"Is this relevant?" snapped Jess rather rudely.
Scrimgeour slammed his gavel and glared at her. The reporters hissed and murmured like water hitting hot oil.
Narcissa waited till the hubub died down again. None of her words would go to waste. Then she said, "We talked about his social life, his future, girls…" She laughed mischievously at this, then she paused, frowned softly, sadly, fingers curling contemplatively at the corner of her mouth, and said, "Ooh…"
Camera's flashed at this apparently troubled portrait of the otherwise austere socialite.
Jess, who'd been in a resentful slump, perked up like a meer-cat smelling a predator on the wind. What the hell was this? An emotion other than gloating! From a MALFOY?
"Come to think of it," trilled Narcissa. "He did sound troubled, last time…"
"OH PLEASE!"
"Miss Frey! One more outburst out of you, and I'll…" Scrimgeour's face was beet red and swollen.
"Yes, yes, sorry, sorry…." muttered Jess, sitting down.
"Troubled?" Carmella coaxed. "Why troubled?"
"Well, his studies were being affected…" answered Narcissa vaguely, as if her memory concerning the conversation was muddy.
"Affected? How?" asked Carmella.
"Negetively." Insisted Narcissa.
"Yes, how, though? What was affecting his studies negatively, Mrs Malfoy?"
"Seems like…" Mrs Malfoy paused for effect. "…seems like there was a new addition to Slytherin House…."
"A new addition?" Even Carmella was wondering where this was going, at this point.
"Oh no…" moaned Jess, head falling face first on to her arms.
"Yes," confirmed Narcissa, as she turned and stared straight at the Defense table. Her eyes met Dumbledore's and her look of studied detatchment turned into one of complete and utter distaste and scorn. "A muggle."
"A muggle!" shrieked one of the reporters in disbelief.
"ORDER! ORDER!" Demanded Scrimgeour. Then, "Professor Dumbledore, will you please stand?"
Dumbledore rose to his feet slowly, at his leisure. "Yes, your Honour?"
"What, may I ask, was the train of logic in placing a muggle in the Slytherin common rooms?" wondered Scrimgeour.
There was utter and complete silence in the courtroom; no one wanted to miss this.
Dumbledore held his hands apart and shrugged non-challantly, with a slight smile on his face. "There was a free room." he replied sweetly.
Someone giggled from the back of the courtroom. Scrimgeour looked confused. "That is all?"
"Yes." said Dumbledore.
No one else said anything.
It was simple, really.
Disappointingly so.
"Please sit, Professor," pleaded Scrimgeour. "Commence, Miss Mislethwaite."
"So…"Carmella felt a bit lost in her questioning and was frantically leafing through the papers in her hand. Really, how bizarre could this case get! "So…the muggle was negatively affect your son's education?"
"Objection!" slurred Jess, still face down in her own arms. "Leading the witness…"
"No I'm not being led the question's just fine!" snapped Narcissa losing her patience, wanting her say in this matter.
"No the question is not fine, Mrs. Malfoy!" snarled Scrimgeour. "Rephrase, Miss Mistlethwaite!"
"How was the muggle affecting your son's education, Mrs Malfoy!" cried Carmella before she could be stopped.
"The harpie's been torturing him, that's how! She's been disruptive and noisy and abusive! She's been inconsiderate of study periods, ruinous to his social life and prone to bizarre acts of self-involvement despite the other students protesting to her presence in the common rooms!" screamed Narcissa lunging to her feet, bent almost double over the witness stand, directing her tirade at Jess.
The muggle didn't take it sitting down; she too leapt up to her feet and would have scrambled over the Defense table if Harry and Shacklebolt hadn't each grabbed one of her arms to keep her back. "Well maybe that's because your son's an evil, sadistic bastard, you WHORE!" Jess howled.
"Your honour!" called Carmella, grinning amidst the chaos. "I'd like to call my next witness!"
Katie was giddy with happiness.
Or she was giddy for having her head stuffed in a sack twice on the same day.
Either way, she was giddy. Ron had turned out to be the innocent lamb she'd originally thought him to be. The world was coming up roses, she was seeing pink and Fate was smiling upon her like a doting parent. It was all good. Now, all she had to do was actually find the unfortunate boy and kiss him.
Yes, kiss him. No 'Hello', no 'How do you do?'. Just kissing.
Kissing that would hopefully lead to blissful snoggery.
Yes, she would snog Ron even before they'd had a first date. Katie was a nasty girl. Nasty.
And hadn't the boy been through enough? Really, he needed some reason to give her a third chance!
"Oi…look, Crabbe. It's a muggle…"
Katie froze in her tracks.
"Yeah, yeah! It's that other one that Draco hates. You know, that other…other…other one….that he hates a lot…"
Katie swallowed and turned her head slightly to one side to cast a glance behind her. Sure enough the gigantic, offacious gargoyles otherwise referred to as Crabbe and Goyle were beginning to lumber after her.
She turned her head forward and began to walk as quickly and as calmly as she could possibly muster without breaking into a full run.
"Please go away," she cried desperately. "Please just leave me alone!"
"We will," promised Goyle. "We're going away now. See?" The two boys began to jog, then to sprint as their quarry lunged in a desperate attempt to evade them.
She was too late starting though. A scream of terror escaped her as an arm wrapped itself around her waist and lifted her clean off the ground. For two stupid oafs, Crabbe and Goyle had obviously had practice at man-handling smaller people because they were highly efficient in keeping her arms and legs incheck and throwing her so violently onto her back onto the ground that her head bounced off the corridor cobblestones and she lost control of her limbs, laying limp for a minute, seeing shooting stars and her life flash before her.
"What do we do with her now, take her clothes off?" asked Goyle, looking disgusted at the very idea. "Draco would do that. He'd say it was funny..."
Katie whimpered unhappily on the floor, tears sliding out from underneath eyelids shut against violence.
All she'd wanted to do was kiss Ron Weasely… Obviously, God hated her.
"Yeah, well, Draco's….more mature than we are," said Crabbe reassuringly. "He's always tellin' us so."
Okay, maybe God was taking pity on her, at last.
"Let's just stomp on her a lot." said Crabbe.
WHY, GOD, WHY!
"NO!" screamed Katie, beginning to buck and struggle on the ground, but Goyle had a firm grip on her and was pinning her down, ready for Crabbe's initial endevour at remoulding her innards. "NO! NO! NO!"
Crabbe lifted his foot, his face crooked with concentration as he aimed right for her middle. Crabbe's foot was really large and Crabbe himself was really big. Katie could not help but imagine her ribs snapping like twigs and puncturing her tender gizzards upon contact with Crabbe's horrendously over-sized appendage. There was no other fate for her; these brutes would kill her.
Oh, they wouldn't mean to; they obviously had the most innocent intentions of roughing her up for browning points and doggy treats from their nefarious leader. But Crabbe and Goyle did not have the brains to compute that what they could handle while kicking the shit out of each other was quite quite different from what itty bitty Kitty could handle, on the cold, unforgiving floor of the Hogwarts hallway.
So she would die in pain, probably, like the goldfish taken out of its bowl by the well meaning, if sadistic, toddler.
"Ready, muggle?" sniggered Goyle.
And she'd thought Voldemorte would get her! Ha! How ironic that it would be the inbred spawn of his most backward of followers who would illiminate her like a cockroach… like a muggle….
A muggle whose friends weren't even here anymore…
The Wizarding World had done its job well. They were separated…her and her friends had been separated…No help was coming…
She was doomed…
"HEY! WHAT"S GOING ON HERE!"
Katie opened her wet eyes and turned her head to stare in disbelief.
There no doors in this corridor, other than the one belonging to an old haunted girls' bathroom, Moaning Myrtle's, and Ron Weasely had just walked out of it, still zipping up his pants.
Someone had been knocking.
The painting slid aside and the warden poked his head out of the entryway.
Hufflepuff boy: "Yes?"
Steph: "Get me Sarah. I must speak with Sarah."
Hufflepuff boy: "Le Presidente is busy, at the moment. She cannot be interupt-"
Steph: (leaning forward, grabbing the boy by his lapels and dragging him off his feet so that his face was a centimetre from her own) "It's a shame that I'm a muggle and can't resort to the clean and tidy little Wizardy ways of getting what I want out of you, say…Cruccio, for example? I might actually have to resort to filleting you, one limb at a time. Barbaric, I know, but what can I say? I'm a muggle, after all…"
Silence.
Hufflepuff boy: (gulping nervously and feeling a distinct dampness around his nether regions) "Um…one…one m-moment…M-Miss Lalonde!"
He disappeared behind the painting, quickly slamming it behind him. Steph could hear murmured deliberations inside the Hufflepuff common room, then the painting slid aside again, this time revealing a rather irate Presedenté, leaning casually to one side, looking very unimpressed.
Sarah: "Why are you threatening my privateers?"
Steph: (through gritted teeth) "Sarah, I have been nowhere near your privates yet but I promise not to kick you in them too hard if you listen to me very, VERY carefully over the next minute or so…"
Sarah: " 'Privateers' is what I said, and you better believe that you are going no where near either my privates or my privateers. There will be no de-boning of the first years, Stephanie, I will not have it."
Steph: "FINE! Just listen…"
Sarah: "What! I'm busy…"
Steph: "This won't take a moment. I need coffee…"
Silence.
Sarah: "So? Why come to me-"
Steph: ( yelling) "Oh come off it, Ogle! You've been working at Starbucks since youwere sixteen! You always have a stash of good quality Cuban sitting around somewhere!"
Sarah: (close to tears) "Yes, well, that's my stash! MINE! Why the hell should I part with it to help you!" (Then, with a sniffle) "You threaten my privateers…"
Steph: "Please, Sarah. PLEASE. I need that coffee. You have no idea how I need that coffee…"
Another moment of deliberating silence.
Sarah: (weak with distress) "Why don't you go to the kitchens? The houseelves are bound to have coffee down there…"
Steph: (in hystericaldecibals that would make dog's ears bleed) "I've already been to the kitchens, Sarah! I've already been to the bloody kitchens! And do you know what I've found there! NO COFFEE, THAT"S WHAT I"VE FOUND! The bloody elves have never even heard of fucking coffee, but they did promise to make me some if I come back with some! And then theyproceeded tothe oven doors on their ears and hit themselves over the heads with soup ladles, Sarah! SOUP! LADLES!"
Sarah: (also yelling hysterically, at this point) "YOU WANT THE COFFEE!"
Steph: "YES!"
Sarah: "YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE COFFEE!"
Steph: (with forced calm and restraint) "Sarah, give me the coffee."
Sarah: "NO!"
Steph: "Sarah, give me the coffee."
Sarah: "NÖ!"
Strph: "Sarah, give me the coffee.
Sarah: "YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!"
Hufflepuff girl: "Presidenté…"
Sarah: "WHAT!"
Hufflepuff girl: "The Battalion is ready to commence operation 'Slytherin Down'."
Silence.
Sarah's eyes widened in panic then narrowed maliciously as they met Steph's and saw the shock and comprehension shine in the other muggle'sbeautiful blue peepers.
Steph: "Sarah….Sarah what are you up to….SARAH!"
The painting had slid shut with a bang.
Steph hammered on it with fists and kicked at it with feet in a complete panic. "SARAH! OPEN THE FUCK UP! SARAH!"
The painting hissed, and Steph leapt back startled as it slid open again. A small silvery foil bag, clearly marked with the Starbucks logo, flew out of the entryway right into her waiting arms. Steph fumbled the grab, so shocked was she, then looked up to see Sarah's resentful gaze rested upon her.
Steph: (worriedly) "Saraaaaaaaah….!"
Sarah: "Ask no questions and receive no lies! You wanted the coffee? You got the coffee! Now go! I have no more time for this!"
The painting slammed shut yet again.
Steph stood where she was, at a complete shock as to what to do now, stop Sarah (who was obviously up to no good) or feed her addiction?
How about both? She'd go down to the kitchens and ask the elves to make her coffee, she'd down the coffee, then she'd rush back up here to stop Sarah?
Yes, that seemed like a feasible plan.
Yes. Very good.
Steph took off down the corridor, speeding towards the kitchen.
"Could this day get any better?" Remus spoke through the hands he was currently covering his face with, as Severus Snape took the stand.
In front of him, Harry had made a hard noise of frustration and introduced his face rather violently to the tabletop. Jess took a large, calming, soothing breath and straightened her hurting back against the onslaught to come.
Kingsley glared at Carmella through the proceedings, while Arthur merely leaned his chin on his knuckles, with an unimpressed expression on his face.
Dumbledore studied the impressive architecture.
"Professor Snape," Carmella began. "You have taught at Hogwarts for over a decade, now, haven't you?"
"Yes," droned Snape.
"And before that you were a student at this very school…"
"Objection…"said Jess, more out of habbit than anything else, really.
"I'll rephrase," Even now, Carmella smiled at the muggle sweetly. "In your experience at Hogwarts, sir, have you ever seen anything quite so disruptive to the student body as the presences of these muggle entities on the premises?"
"No," replied Snape flatly. "They are highly irregular…"
"Highly irregular!" Jess tiredly got to her feet again. "As opposed to a basilisk? And frequent visits by Voldemorte!"
Gasps of horror followed her open utterance of the Dark Lord's name. Even Scrimgeour forgot to slam his gavel at her and demand she sit down.
"Can you describe how irregular, Professor Snape?" Carmella barrelled on.
"Yes I can. Just the other day, the muggle placed in Gryffindor house attacked a student from my house…" replied Snape, sneering at Jess.
"Firstly, that's all heresy; it did NOT happen like that!" said Jess with conviction.
"Oh?" Carmella turned towards the girl. "Then, how did it happen, Miss Frey? Did your friend attack this student or not?"
"Well…"Jess stammered at the wrong instant. All she could see in her head were images of Katie launching herself at Malfoy. But Donia had been missing and they'd hurt her…they'd hurt her friend… "Well, yes, but it was justified!"
"Justified!" laughed Carmella. For the first time that day, Jess began to feel a slight dislike for the woman build within her. "Your honour, no violence is justified!"
"Really? Well, tell that to the Slytherins! AND to HIM!" Spat Jess pointing at Snape.
The reporters murmured at the scandle. Snape turned pale with wrath.
"Your honour," pleaded Jess, turning to address Scrimgeour. "All this is heresy and false accusation! If anything my friends and I are the victims here! We were promised protection and shelter for stopping He Who Must Not Be Named in his tracks and all we've found is bigotry and hatred. And when we defend ourselves, this is what we get! A witch-hunt disguised as a trail!"
"Wow," Harry breathed to Remus. "Look at her go. We didn't plan this."
"Do you have any opposing witnesses, Miss Frey?" murmured Scrimgeour.
"Do I what?" she asked.
"Have opposing witnesses? Ones that will vouch for you instead of against you?"
Jess looked around. Scrimgeour rolled his eyes and quickly said, "Asides from those at the Defense bench, Miss Frey…"
"Well…no…no one told me to bring any…" she blinked, feeling close to tears.
"Well, then, you may sit down and listen to the rest of the proceedings and I shall deliberate and offer a verdict at the end." said Scrimgeour.
"But…but your Honour!" begged Jess.
"I have taken your words into consideration, Miss Frey, now I must impress upon you that no more outbursts be allowed to occur during these proceedings. Do you understand?"
She stood in silent shock.
"Do you understand, Miss Frey?"
"Yes…yes…your honour."
Jess sat down.
Ron…
"Ron…"
"Ron!"
His first thought was it was Hermione; they'd been in another horrendous adventure with Harry and he'd gotten hurt…again.
There were familiar pains in his body, his chest, his arms…his face! He coughed and it felt like the bones of his sinuses were grating against each other. Something thick and fleshy and saltly slithered down his throat making him gag.
That was lot of clotted blood…
He couldn't really breath out of his nose.
"Oh Ron! Please wake up!"
Hermione! Hermione was in trouble!
He opened his eyes and blearily searched for the girl calling his name…
His heart leapt.
The halo surrounding the face was of tinsel gold, not the warm brown he'd come to know and love so well.
For a moment his mind really did jump to the clichéd conclusion that this face was angelic. After all, why would such a conventionally beautiful girl be so worried about his health unless it were her job!
Then he realised that he knew this face. And then his heart leapt again because though finding Hermione kneeling over him would have incited old, warm feelings and bitter sweet pain in his chest…Katie's face brought a fresh feeling, a sensation of excitement fluttering though the pain, through the nausea, through the taste of his own bodily fluids, to alight wonderfully on his heart and make him feel like a hero.
A hero.
He remembered now. He remembered why he was splattered all over the corridor floor like a dropped egg.
Katie!
………Aaaaaaaaaand Crabbe and Goyle.
"OH RON!" sobbed Katie, throwing her arms around him as soon as she realised he was conscious. "You SAVED me! No boy's ever done that for me before!"
"Why? Are life threatening experiences a regular occurrance around you?" moaned Ron trying to sit up, then moaning weakly as he realised that required moving.
Katie never hear him. "Oh Ron you were wonderful! Especially because you obviously had no chance!"
"You sure know how to make a boy proud, Katie!" he whimpered.
"You're my hero…" purred Katie.
"Oh God! How does Harry do it…" he began.
Then he was silenced by Katie.
Or rather….he was silenced by Katie's lips.
Girls…girls really were a heavenly creation….Really. They were better than…better than…better than food, even.
For a moment, Ron could honestly say that he could not feel any pain whatsoever. For a moment, everything was alright; he was happy with who he was, with his long nose and outrageous hair, being the youngest male Weasley and Harry Potter's best friend and Hermione Granger's ex-boyfriend. He didn't mind Snape and his virulent loathing for Draco Malfoy and all things Slytherin slid into a mild indifference that was soothing and pleasant and really inconsequential. He felt happy about it all because this girl…this girl thought him worthy.
And called him a hero.
And had soft, warm sweet-peach lips and velvety breath that tasted of…lots of candy…
She pulled back, anxiously searching his face for a response, biting her bottom lip nervously.
His eyes were hazy. Now, that could be because he was liking it….or he was quickly bleeding to death….
Ron didn't care, though. He had two thoughts in his concussed head right now, and those two thoughts consisted of:
1. She's worried about what I think! A GIRL….is WORRIED….about what I think! This is GREAT!
2. If nothing else…I'll taste candy every time I kiss her! I could get used to this…
"Ron?"
"…..umph?"
"I…I'd like to go out with you…if you'll still have me…"
Ron groaned as all the pain came rushing back in a blinding flash. Somehow during the kiss, he'd managed to prop himself up against the corridor wall.
Her asking him that made him slither all the way down again and bounce his head off the floor once more. His vision, to say the least, spun and cycled.
"Oh RON! RON!"
This girl was going to kill him…. She was going to be the death of him! He'd just offered his body up as a punching bag for her! And she was still not sure!
Because the incoherent mumbling after she'd kissed him wasn't clue enough!
What did he have to do, literally bleed for her! Oh WAIT….
"Ron! Ron just…just give me an answer and I'll go get Madame Pomfrey! I'd…I'd get her first but I'm afraid I won't geta chance to talk to you then, and I'd justDIE if I had to wait to find out if you'd go out with me!" Katie rang her hands guiltily.
"K-K-Katie…" he wheezed. "I ..am…dying…"
"Oh it won't take a second, Ron, please!"
"Will…you …still…go…fetch…her…if…I…say…'No'?" he coughed out of curiosity.
There came no reply.
Ron had a feeling the answer was 'I'd finish you off, you bastard.' so he killed the joke pretty quickly and yelled, "YES! YES! I'll go out with you, you lunatic muggle!"
"Yaaaaaaaaaaaay!" screamed Katie leaping to her feet and jumping up and down hysterically. "Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!"
"Katie! KATIE!" Ron howled as he sank into blackness once more. "Go….get….Pom…frey…."
"Mr. Filch," Carmella flipped through her papers to the page of questions for Filch. "Would you say your work has increased since the arrival of the muggles? Or decreased?"
"Decreased!" barked Filch. "There's definatly more of it!"
Jess stared. Was Carmella aware that her witness was an imbecile?
"And they kick me cat!" he added for good measure.
"Oh come on!" protested Jess. "That's just not fair! Everyone kicks Mrs. Norris…"
Steph exploded into the kitchens.
"Elves! Elves! Look, elves! Look! I brought coffee! Now make me coffee!"
The elves looked at her, then at each other worriedly. One of them, a leader amongst his kind, as Steph had previously identified from her past foray into the kitchen, called Dobbie, came forward and said, "Miss Stephanie has the happy powder?"
"Yes!" gurgled Steph. "Yes! I have the happy powder! Now where's your coffee maker?"
Dobbie looked hesitantly back at his own kind then said, "Miss Presidenté Sarah sent one down. She told Dobbie to give Miss Stephanie a note with the scary maker of the happy potion."
Two little house elves, one in a precariously cut mitten and the other wrapped in a strategically tied hand towel, hauled out an honest to goodness authentic, North American coffee machine.
Steph felt her heart expand with her chest. "Sarah….sent this?" God, she loved that girl!
The redhead bent down gently, trying not to start crying, so touched was she by Sarah's devotion, and tore the cello-taped note off the black, plastic top of the thing.
It read: Dear Stephanie,
Enjoy the coffee machine. You won the coffee fair and square.
Love,
Sarah.
P.S.
Did I mention there's no electricity in Hogwarts?
Minerva McGonagal was halfway through a very important sentence on the reasoning behind standing back to back when casting spellsin a first year transfiguration class, when a blood-curdling shriek of doom reverberated from the bowls of the castle to the highest, most remote corner of the astronomy tower.
Even the giant squid made a deep, low sound of fear and quickly vanished beneath the lake's dark surface.
Thesound seemed to comefrom the kitchens.
"Those girls emotionally assaulted me!" wept Madame Pince, her mole quivering nervously, her nose dripping wetly. Her lipstick was smeared and her hands shook miserably. "I…I haven't stopped….crying….in daaaaaaaayyyysss!"
Jess said nothing. This one, she believed, was justified. That wasn't exactly helping their case, though.
The muggle simply hunched her back in shame and prayed that this hell would end soon.
It was dinnertime.
The classes were spilling their guts and the Hufflepuffs were in place, down the corridor where the entire class of third year Slytherins would be walking in a minute.
"Presidenté, you should retire to safety," suggested Hannah Abbot unwaveringly.
"Not on your life, Left-tenant," snapped Sarah. "I wouldn't miss this for the world! It's our first strike against The Enemy! I want to be there when their platoon of third years mysteriously goes missing!"
"Presidenté," A fourth year boy came running up the hallway. He knelt before Sarah for a split second, then leapt to his feet and said, "The Slytherins are at the end of the corridor before this one. They should be upon us in approximately fifteen seconds…"
"Great," Sarah shivered in anticipation and licked her lips. "Let's blow the top off this castle…"
"They stole my gardenias!" cried the decrepit, old bag on the witness stand as several pigeons tried to escape the confines of her purse and hat.
"Who ARE you!" asked Jess, incredulously.
Donia had a carton of mint and chocolate-chip ice-cream in one hand and was busily spooning huge portions of it into her mouth with the other when she rounded the corner on the impending Slytherin attack. Lars had given her the ice-cream. Apparently it was a special wizard's brand that didn't melt in the heat.
All she'd wanted was to eat ice-cream.
"Donia!" Sarah leapt forward. "Good! You're here! You're just in time…"
If Donia's mouth had not been so gummed up with ice-cream (or maybe if she'd just not been shocked mute) she would have said, "Just in time for what?"
As it was, Sarah turned to her and said, "I knew you wouldn't let me down! I knew you'd help with the attack!"
And if the bottom of her stomach hadn't suddenly dropped out of her arse, Donia would have liked to say, "Attack! What attack!"
There she stood , a silver spoon ina mouth full of ice-cream that was not melting or making her tongue less numb, and a carton of mint and choco-chip in hand, looking like a deer-in-headlights, eyes swivelling from side to side as she scanned her surroundings for the fastest exit out of this situation.
"SARAH!" came the angry roar.
Donia's eyes widened in panic and she stood truly petrified, unable to flee the scene.
Sarah turned slowly.
Oh dear.
Steph had gotten her gift.
Scrimgeour sighed.
"Will the Defense please stand."
They did.
"From what I've heard from these proceedings, Miss Frey, I have to agree with the Ministry's stance on this subject matter. You and your friends not only appear to be a disruptive influence on Hogwarts, but it is also evident that you harbour malicious intent towards the student body and the faculty."
Jess's head drooped.
Camera's flashed and the reporters murmured hungrily and began getting up out of their seats, anticipating a quick and firm verdict and dismissal. After all, it was pretty obvious…
"You seem adamant that your activities at Hogwarts were justified," continued Scrimgeour despite the noise. "But I say that you'd have to be severly attacked if one is to consider what I have heard on this stand today justifiable."
I hope you're happy, seethed Jess close to tears. You've just signed our death warrants. Some thanks for stopping Voldemorte…
"Therefore, I have decided that you and your muggle companions are to be extricated from Hogwarts…"
Jess burst into tears.
"…Unless you can prove to me that you are indeed bullied by the student body and have needed to defend yourself in the past against bodily harm."
Harry gave a great shout and almost fell backwards over the bench. Shacklebolt and Remus were both gaping like guppies at the judge as if he'd been speaking another language entirely. Indeed, Arthur Weasely actually kept asking, "What? What did he say? What did he say?"
And Dumbledore?
Dumbledore smiled a little.
The reporters were on fire! They had absolutely no idea what to do with this!
Carmella stood frozen in disbelief. Was this judge actually giving these muggles another chance!
Jess turned her wide, red, teary eyes up at the vastly amused Judge.
"W-wh….what….?" she panted on the verge of fainting.
"You have twenty four hours. Do not make me regret this decision," snapped Scrimgeour, slamming down his gavel. "Adjourned!" Then he subtly turned to Dumbledore and said, "Happy?"
"Oh, quite. " confirmed the headmaster quietly.
Jess looked from one ancient man to the other, but could find no word to express her consternation besides, "…What?"
Steph got to the top of the stairs just in time to see Donia and Sarah and a bunch of the Hufflepuffs standing in a highly suspect position halfway down the corridor.
"SARAH!" she began. Then she took in the situation and the guilty look and Donia's face and stopped dead in her tracks. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing!" cried Sarah instinctively.
Donia's eyes swivelled silently from one girl to the other anticipating a problematic situation.
"Nothing! I don't believe that for one fucking second, Sarah!" screamed Steph, hair flaring out around her head, finger pointing like she could stab with it and actually draw blood.
She turned on the silent Slytherin muggle. "And you! YOU! What are you doing helping Sarah! You're obviously up to no good as well! What the hell do you think you're doing? You promised!"
Donia merely stood as still as stone and stared at Steph wondering whether this day could get any worse. All she'd wanted was ice-cream, dammit! Ice-cream! Just ice-cream! Was that too much to ask?
"Mind your own fucking business, Stephanie!" Sarah seethed. "Donia say something!"
The Slytherin muggle pulled the spoon out of her mouth. "I can't break my promise, Sarah...
"WHAT!" howled Sarah. "I am so disappointed in you..."
"Leave her out of it, Sarah!" yelled Steph.
"Stay out of it, Lalonde!"
"Not on your life, Ogle! Not after that stint with the coffee machine! I owe you one!"
"What! And risk a detention!"
"Never you mind about me and my detentions! You are NOT to go on with whatever hairbrained plan you've got in the works, understood?"
"No! Not understood! I'm a free agent! I do as I please!"
"You promised no violence!"
"Well, it was a stupid promise!" Sarah exploded. "It was a stupid promise and I'm breaking it because someone has to! I was waiting for her…" Here she pointed at the silent Donia accusingly. "…I was waiting for her to snap and do something but now I'm taking action!"
"Sarah! You will not do this!"
"I'm going to do as I bloody well please! You're just upset about the coffee machine!"
"Sarah,"begged Steph earnestly. "We have to wait to hear the verdict! Please! We have to wait till Jess gets back…"
"Hey, guys guess what!" cried Katie running up. Then, she stopped, seeing the warning glare in Donia's eyes and said, "Why are we standing around here?"
"Oh good, you're here, too." said Sarah handing her a quidditch bat. "Here, take this. Aim for heads."
"What are we doing?" asked Katie bewildered, staring at the big stick in her hands.
"We're not doing anything!" insisted Steph.
Donia said nothing.
"We're attacking the Slytherins," said Sarah.
"Presidenté! They are almost upon us!" whispered Hannah Abbot furiously.
"I thought we weren't going to!" Katie's long eyelashes batted back tears of frustration. Could she NOT escape a beating today! "We're not allowed! Jess said…"
"This is war!" snapped Sarah. "You all have your own brains! You've seen what it's like. We've tried Jess' way and I for one absolutely loathe it. So it's up to you individually, now. Do. We. Fight?"
Walking down to where the Kelloggs box was waiting to transport them back to Hogwarts, Jess could do nothing but wrack her brains for a solution to this puzzle she'd been presented with.
On the one hand she was relieved beyond measure that Scrimgeour had given her a day to come up with a defence.
On the other hand…twenty-four hours? And how was she to prove that her and her friends were indeed justified in their behaviour at Hogwarts? It was a bleak, bleak picture.
The thing that troubled her the most was the creeping realisation that whatever manoeuvre she'd have to use it would be to trick the Slytherins into implicating themselves. She'd be breaking her own rule.
Her own rule of non-violence.
Could she do that? Jess was not sure she was ready to take that step and make a conscious decision to aggress on a human being's life, no matter how deserving they were.
She did not understand how her friends found such behaviour so easy to carry out. Didn't it upset them at all? Didn't it chafe? Didn't they ever feel guilty about it?
Harry took her hand as they climbed the platform to get to the portkey. She barely noticed, but did feel slightly soothed by the fact that he was perceptive enough to leave her alone as she thought. Jess had come to realise through this whole ordeal that if nothing else, meeting Harry Potter would make their short stint in the Wizarding world worth while for her.
She barley noticed the sudden jarring sensation as her and the her escort landed back at Hogwarts, and did not reply when they called their goodbyes. Instead she took off down the hall, walking alone, lost in thought and a moral dilemma that prevented her from sensing the electrified buzz of mischief permeating the air in the hallway she was walking into.
She rounded the corner and it hit her in the face. The scene that unfolded before her shocked her out of her reverie. There were her friends standing in an awkward looking circle, staring at each other with a range of emotions from confusion to rage, with an all-out war happening around them, between third year Slytherins and a handful of upper year Hufflepuffs. Most of the Slytherins had fled, but a handful had stayed out of utter disbelief that this could be happening to them! THEM! The house that ambushed people! Despite their size advantage the Huffs weren't doing too well and the Slytherins were starting to gang together and start casting glances at the frozen muggles.
Jess took in the situation instantly.
Her friends were waiting for her; all of them, even the ones that disagreed with her.
It might appear sometimes that they were separated, that this strange, exotic,brutal place had won…but when it came down to it, they still instinctively bunched together, even if it meant they were going to be defeated together.
Jess did not want her friends to be defeated. She could not stand the Slytherins. The Slytherins had fucked them over royally, at court, be it through Lucius Malfoy or his wife or Snape, and they were about to fuck them over royally now too, if they didn't so something.
Jess was sick and tired of doing nothing.
As her four friends turned towards her, surprised that she'd shown up at such a crucial moment, she found that she only had one real answer for them.
Jess looked into the question held in Sarah, Steph, Donia and Katie's eyes and she answered it from the deepest, most sincere part of her heart.
"Get the fuckers."
The next chapter includes:
- A letter to Uncle Alfie.
- Sarah Ogle.
-Pot... not the kind that flowers are grown in.
-Sarah Ogle.
-Massive amounts of blue dye.
-Sarah Ogle
-Muggles going to magic classes.
-Electricity.
-Video cameras.
-Boot camp for Hufflepuffs.
-Revenge.
-The Twins.
-Did I mention Sarah Ogle?
