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Chapter 7: Interesting Times
"I wish it'ud stop raining," Lily Evans grumbled as she looked at the water streaming relentlessly down the diamond paned windows of the Gryffindor common room one evening some six weeks into the term. "It's done nothing else ever since we came and I'm sick of it!"
"What d'you expect, it is Scotland in October," Remus pointed out with his usual good sense.
"No-o-o, I think it's more than that," Meta said, her eyes following Lily's to the window. She shivered. "Can't you feel it? It's not just wet - it's miserable! Even the teachers are in a bad mood."
"They've always been in a bad mood," returned Lily. "Everyone says that Professor Flitwick is jolly and never shouts at anyone like - like Professor McGonagall does, f'r'instance. Look at what happened this morning, nothing jolly about him then!"
Remus and Meta exchanged a grin. "To be fair, Sirius did kind of deserve it," Meta said, looking, with her eyes narrowed, disturbingly like her sister at that moment. "He shouldn't have done that, it wasn't fair on Severus."
"Sev was furious," Lily remembered, her green eyes taking on a harder glint. "It's not his fault his family hasn't got any money, and he hates it, Sev does, and just because Sirius Black is loaded -"
"Don't be too hard on Sirius," Remus put in before she could work up a good steam. "It's not so awfully easy for him either."
Lily snorted. "Poor little Sirius, all his stuff is brand new and he's a pureblood and he never has difficulty with anything, ever-"
"His mum's a right cow, and his dad is furious with him for not getting into Slytherin. Threatened to whip him every-which-ways the next time he's home."
"Is that why he doesn't like Severus?" Meta asked with real curiosity. "'Cos he's in Slytherin and Sirius isn't?"
"Oooh no. Sirius is awfully pleased he's in Gryffindor. He doesn't like Severus 'cos he thinks Severus is suckin' up to Lucius Malfoy and the Blacks, and what's more, he's got James thinking the same. Or maybe James never liked Severus anyway, 'cos he's just as clever as James is and he and Sirius don't like getting whupped by a 'slimy Slytherin git' in lessons."
"Well, it's not right, and you can tell 'em so," Meta said severely. "My mum says that Hogwarts is like a building. It needs all four of its houses equally or things go wonky."
"Says she whose sister is Head of Gryffindor," Lily jeered.
Meta's cheeks flushed but she stuck to her guns. "My sister isn't just Head of Gryffindor, she's also Deputy Headmistress, remember."
"Oooooh! Aren't you lucky!" came a voice behind them, and the three turned to see James Potter and Sirius Black, together as always.
Meta's eyes narrowed, but Remus spoke up. "Meta says we shouldn't be mean to the Slytherins." Sirius darted Meta a distinctly unfriendly look and Remus's voice trembled a little, but he continued. "She says Hogwarts needs all four houses to stand -"
Sirius's eyes closed into slits, and for a moment he reminded Meta of his cousin, Bellatrix. "That's tripe. Need Slytherin, do we? Look what the slimy, evil gits have done now!" He slammed that day's issue of the Daily Prophet down in front of them and jabbed at the headline. "See that? 'TWENTY MUGGLES DEAD. MAGIC OR NOT?' Twenty people, Meta, right bang in central London -"
"It could've been Muggles," Lily said suddenly. "It could've. It could be the IRA -"
"Muggles can't kill twenty people at once," Sirius scoffed.
James looked worried. "They can, though. Don't you remember our Muggle history lessons? They've got bombs. In one go that can kill nearly as many people as a Avada Kedavra Maxima."
"A what?" Remus goggled.
"It kills all the people in a stated area," James explained, looking guilty. "If the normal Killing Curse gets you sent to Azkaban, the Maxima gets you executed. Automatically. Without a trial."
"How'd you know all this?" Sirius asked, looking rather sick.
James's face reddened a little. "I'm not supposed to," he confessed, "My uncle's an Auror and er, he's not always, um, careful about checking where I am before he starts talking."
"You mean you eavesdropped," Meta accused, standing very straight.
"Oh stop being such a little goody-good," Sirius snapped. "Just 'cos your sister is Professor McGonagall -"
"I'm not a goody-good!" Meta shouted back. "I believe in people having some honour, and not hating others just 'cos of what house they're in-"
"MR BLACK! MISS MCGONAGALL! How dare you?"
The two combatants swung around to see their Head of House, who was standing with her hand on the shoulder of a boy they recognised as Charles Diggle, the Slytherin who had been tortured some weeks before. Suddenly terrified, Meta swallowed hard and stole a glance at Sirius. She was relieved to see that he looked almost as anxious as she felt.
"Professor, I can explain -" James began, causing Meta to gasp at his temerity.
"I don't want to hear it, Mr Potter," Professor McGonagall told him frostily. "There's enough dissension within the wizarding world at the moment without you children bringing it into the very walls of the castle - aye, our common room! Miss McGonagall, Mr Black, detention for both of you every night for the rest of the week. Come to my office after supper this evening and I'll tell you what you need to do then. Not another word, Mr Black!"
Sirius shut his mouth so abruptly that Meta could hear the 'snap' as his teeth met, and she winced. She looked up through her lashes at her sister, and winced again. Minerva was white and her lips were pinched into a thin bloodless line that added at least twenty years to her age. Was it just anger or something more -?
Professor McGonagall took a deep breath and seemed to regain some control. "Gryffindors, I have something to tell you." This time she did not raise her voice, but she spoke with a clarity that pierced even the particularly violent wizarding chess game taking place at the back of the room. Everyone fell silent and turned to look at her, and the older ones, the Sixth Formers, instantly looked almost as ill as Professor McGonagall did, and the coiling unease in Meta's stomach tightened again.
"There have been several attacks on Muggle London," their Head of House told them heavily. "At this time it is not clear whether the attacks are magical or Muggle in origin. Those of you who know something of Muggle politics will be aware that it could easily be the former" - Lily threw Sirius a triumphant glance - "but there is a very good chance that at least one attack was magical. The Ministry is currently investigating. As it is, however, early reports indicate that as many as one hundred people have died. We will let you know if any of you students have been directly affected." She paused and looked at them, and Meta saw her brows contract in worry. Turning, Meta could see why. Lily and Rosemary Brown and Mary McDonald had turned greenish white, and those were just the Muggleborns that she knew off the top of her head.
This is real, she told herself. Papa was wrong. It doesn't matter whether I speak it or not, it's all really happening...
"I have another matter to inform you of," Minerva was saying, and Meta dragged her attention back to her sister. "You all know what happened to Mr Diggle here in the courtyard at the beginning of term. For various reasons, it has become clear that he is no longer entirely safe in Slytherin, not least because his family is, traditionally, Gryffindor. We have taken the unusual decision to resort him, and until then, he will be treated as an honorary Gryffindor. Is that clear?"
"What happens if he gets sorted back into Slytherin?" Gwen Weasley asked.
"He will be," Meta heard Sirius mutter under his breath. "Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin..."
"Perhaps we should resort you too, Mr Black," Professor McGonagall told him sharply. "No? I thought not. Kindly be quiet or you'll find that you'll have two weeks of detention instead of one." She turned to the boy who had shrunk back towards her at Sirius's words. "Mr Diggle, would you like me to answer Miss Weasley's question?" Charles Diggle nodded. "Very well. Mr Diggle has undergone a series of strenuous interviews with all four Heads of House. We are as sure as we can be that he will not be resorted into Slytherin." Her stern face softened and she went on.
"You know, I've often heard the Headmaster say that we sort too soon, and that House placings should not be irrevocable. How many of you, I wonder, were sorted into Gryffindor not because you have true courage, but because you have the brave recklessness of youth? That is not enough. Similarly, there are reasons why you might find yourselves sorted into the other Houses at eleven that would not necessarily hold true at thirteen, or fifteen, or eighteen." Her eyes went to Sirius and Meta. "I overheard some of the argument as I came in. Your houses matter whilst you are here - they are, as I have told you, your family. But think for a moment - think of your own families. Would you wish to have contact only with them and with no-one else? If you value your relationships with others beyond your blood families, think about how you can put that into practice here at school." She gave Charles a gentle push in the direction of his sister and then left with a reminder to Sirius and Meta that she expected to see them in her office at seven o'clock sharp.
After being condemned to spending the rest of their evenings together for the next week doing who-knows-what, Meta and Sirius made an effort to be civil to one another that evening at supper. This gained Meta a dark look from Severus Snape, who evidently disliked Sirius as much as Sirius disliked him, but Meta simply stalked off to her detention after supper with her head held high. It was even more unpleasant than Professor McGonagall's detentions usually were. Her last class that day had involved turning slugs into butterflies. Several students had not managed the task, and, as a result, there was a nasty oozing residue left on a good number of desks. Sirius and Meta were handed toothbrushes and a bucket of water between them, and told to scour the desks until they were completely de-slimed. The two students exchanged rueful glances and set to work under their Head of House's stern eye. Two hours later they were finally done, and despatched back to the Tower.
"Great," Sirius groaned as they dodged the staircases. "It's nearly nine now and we'll be sent to bed soon. I still had Charms and Potions to finish for tomorrow!"
Meta grimaced in sympathy. "Minerva would say it's your own fault for not doing the stuff earlier, but I won't. I still have Herbology to do myself."
"Ask Frank to give you a hand before we go back," Sirius suggested.
"Yeah, an' like you said, it's nearly bedtime. Can you see me going to Hufflepuff at this time?"
"It was only an idea," Sirius returned huffily.
"I know. Keep your wig on. I say, why don't you ask Severus to help with the Potions in the morning? He's really good, even better than Lily."
"I'd rather go to Azkaban than ask that Slytherin git for anything!"
Meta sighed. "Honestly, Sirius -"
"Don't waste your time, Meta," came another voice from the top of the staircase. "I'd sell my soul rather than help Black."
Meta huffed. "What do you want, Severus?"
"He's with me," a silky voice said as Lucius Malfoy came up and put his hand on Severus's shoulder. "You two, however, are dangerously near breaking curfew -"
"We were with Professor McGonagall," Meta said swiftly, her grip firm on Sirius's arm.
"Ah yes. I'm afraid that detention does not count as a valid excuse," Lucius sneered. "No. I won't punish you - yet. You have ten seconds to get to your house or you'll have to take whatever I dish out. Ten -"
"He is the gittiest git of all," Sirius forced out as they struggled to run up the remaining stairs. They weren't moving as fast as they should be.
"-Eight -"
"Don't waste your breath," Meta panted as they finally made the landing. "Ouch!" she cried, dodging a stinging hex.
Sirius glanced back. "Not going to help your friend, Snape?"
He doubled over as three stinging hexes were cast at once, and Meta ran back from the Fat Lady. "Sirius!"
"-Five," Lucius drawled. "Not doing too well, are you?"
Meta ignored him and instead focused on helping Sirius to the Fat Lady. She flung a panicked look at the prefect. House passwords were supposed to be kept secret, but she suspected that Lucius and Severus would overhear whatever she said, and the countdown was continuing -
"Severus!" she hissed, but the boy, looking oddly triumphant, did nothing.
"Threeeeeee..." said Lucius, a smile spreading over his aristocratic features.
Meta tore her eyes from Severus and swallowed. Sirius was groaning and she hated to think what else Lucius could come up with. Throwing caution to the winds, she began to bang the portrait as hard as she could, ignoring the Fat Lady's annoyed protests.
"Twooooo...."
"Please!" she yelled.
"One-"
The portrait opened suddenly from inside, causing Meta to fall back. Lucius advanced on them.
"What is going on out here?" someone asked, and the Gryffindors turned in relief to Fabian Prewett, who was eyeing Lucius in some disgust.
"Prewett. Just making sure your firsties got back before curfew," Lucius explained, smiling with some malice as the two First Years practically fell into the portrait hole.
"Right," Fabian said sardonically. "I'm sure they'll remember in future." With that, he closed the portrait again and turned on Meta and Sirius, who had collasped on the chair nearest the door.
"What happened there?" he demanded as James, Lily and Remus came up.
Meta surprised everyone, including herself, by promptly bursting into tears. Sirius made an odd noise and promptly moved away from her, looking decidedly embarrassed. Lily sent him a glare before perching next to Meta, her arm protectively around her friend.
"I-I-I'm sorry to be such an-an idiot," Meta hiccoughed a few minutes later after some hard crying.
"You're still leaking," Remus noted detachedly, handing her his hankie.
She smiled tremulously and mopped up. "Thanks. Ew, it's nasty..."
"Just clean it, Meta," Gwen Weasley advised from the floor.
"H-How?"
Gwen grinned. "Didn't your mum ever show you? Like so! Scourgify!" She tapped her wand in the direction of the manky handkerchief in the younger girl's hand and it sparkled for a moment before fading to the painfully pristine state it had been in when Remus handed it over.
"Are you going to tell us what happened?" Lily asked once Meta seemed more or less herself again.
Her friend turned red. "Nothing much did," she confessed.
"Apart from Lucius-poker-up-his-arse-Malfoy being a git as usual," Sirius said.
"Really, Sirius, you're getting awfully boring," chided James. "Can't you think of something more original than 'git'?"
Sirius's grey eyes became thoughtful, and the others looked at each other and grinned. Lily, however, was not one to let an injury to a friend drop, and she persisted.
"But what did Malfoy do?"
"Threatened us for being out of house so close to curfew even though we told him we'd been with Minerva," Meta explained with a scowl. "Then he threatened us with something else if we didn't get back before nine..."
"Nothing much wrong with that," Gwen observed. "He's a slippery one, that Malfoy, but he is a prefect."
"Yes, and I'd like to know who was behind that," Gideon Prewett muttered. "Was that all?"
"He cast Impedimenta and stinging hexes to make it hard for us to get back," Sirius said, his voice very hard. He turned on Lily. "And that mate of yours, Evans, he's a rotter through and through."
"Severus?" Lily was clearly puzzled.
"Yeah. He was there. I called to him and he did nothing to help even though we could've been hurt and Sirius almost was," Meta said, a steely glint in her eyes. She turned away from the others. "I thought he was s'posed to be our friend. Friends help each other when the need to." She sounded muffled.
A series of mutterings came from the others at this, including comments such as, "Well, what did they expect from a Slytherin?" and "Slytherin-Gryffindor friendships always end badly..." and "Nasty little so-and-so. Wait til I get my hands on him..". The final remark came from Fabian Prewett, and it was to him that Lily turned.
"No. You can't."
There was a moment of shocked silence.
"Evans, you're not sticking up for the git, are you?" Sirius asked incredulously whilst James muttered, "New adjectives mate, new adjectives."
Lily stood firm. "You don't know him like I do, any of you. He's not bad, honestly he's not.... " She bit her lip. "He's always been picked on by other people, at home, at school, everything. He's just trying to keep himself safe."
Sirius snorted but the older ones looked thoughtful. "No-one really knows what goes on inside Slytherin house," Gwen noted.
"I do," came a soft voice behind them and they turned to look at Charles Diggle, who was standing very straight, a hectic flush scarlet against his pale skin.
The Prewetts exchanged a glance, but it was Fabian who spoke. "So you do, mate. What do you think about all this?"
"Lily's right," the Third Year said softly. "Malfoy hates Gryffindors, he hates anyone who doesn't toe his family's pureblood line. He especially hates people like Meta, who has a Muggleborn mother who married into an old family, and Sirius, who is everything a Black shouldn't be." Sirius looked surprised and then oddly pleased. "He's not one for inter-house anything, Malfoy isn't."
"Would he hurt Sev if he was seen talking to us?" Lily asked, her green eyes very troubled.
"He wouldn't," Charles replied with a shudder, and an awkward silence fell as they remembered why he was there.
"He'd get other people to do it for him, wouldn't he?" James put in. His voice dropped. "Just like they did to you."
Gideon rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. "Kids, we really shouldn't be talking like this, and it's time the firsties were in bed-" but Meta turned on him, her eyes glittering with anger or possibly unshed tears.
"No, we won't. We're all in this, don't you see?" She rubbed her arms. "Don't you remember what Min - Professor McGonagall said? Bad stuff is happening out there, isn't it, and that's why the Diggles have been targeted, and why you Thirds couldn't go to Hogsmeade an' the staff are so grumpy all the time an' - an' it's so cold."
"It is almost Hallowe'en," Gwen pointed out, but Fabian shook his head, looking more serious than anyone had ever seen him look.
"She's got a point, Gwen. It's not normal cold, is it, look at us, some of us are still shivering right here next to the fire."
"It feels like grief," Alice Diggle said suddenly from where was standing next to her brother. "It feels like everything that makes you sad."
"Or frustrated or angry," Charles added, his thin face grave.
The common room became very quiet, broken only by small rustlings as the Gryffindors moved closer to each other, as if seeking for warmth or protection. Something creaked and someone screamed, causing them all to jump, their faces glowing in the reflected red of the tapestries and the firelight.
Gideon sighed and broke the spell. "All right people, that really is enough. You'll be giving yourselves nightmares at this rate. We're all safe in the tower, remember? Nothing can touch us here." He sounded falsely cheery, as if he was trying to convince himself.
Another Sixth former slapped him on the back. "Keep telling yourself that, mate." He turned to scowl at the younger children, still huddled together. "Squirts, it's time for you lot to scram or I'll be giving you nightmares!"
"You aren't a prefect," Sirius mumbled rebelliously, but it was half-hearted.
"No, but I am, and he's right," Gideon said. "All of you - yes, even you Seconds and Thirds - scram!" And warned by the look in his eyes, they did.