2nd September 1997
When Hermione reached the Common Room the next morning, she was surprised to find the first years already waiting for her.
Actually, it wasn't the fact that they were waiting for her that surprised her.
It was how Dean and Seamus – who usually just ignored the younger years and headed straight down to breakfast – were explaining to them in great detail the difference between football and Quidditch.
Hermione stopped at the bottom of the stairs, taking in the scene in front of her with a smile.
"That's new," Lavender murmured from behind her.
"Definitely," Parvati agreed, eyeing the two boys as if she'd only just seen them for the first time.
"Mind if we take them off your hands?" Lavender asked.
Hermione shrugged, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief as she recognised the gleam in Lavender's eyes – a gleam that, last term, seemed to have been aimed at Ron more than anyone else.
It was unlikely Ron would say know if Lavender did make a move and, as much as Hermione liked her roommate, she didn't particularly want her involved in what they were doing at the moment.
"I'm not the one they're talking to."
She watched in amusement as the two girls moved forwards as one to address the first years. They got a flurry of nods, took the boys' arms and steered them out of the portrait hole.
"Good morning," Hermione greeted, approaching the first years.
Little Catherine Barter looked up at her, almost bouncing with excitement. "Do we really get to play sports on brooms?"
Hermione chuckled. "Slow down. You have to learn how to fly first, which should be later this week. And you can't try out for the teams until second year …"
"Unless you manage to impress McGonagall so much that you get chosen as the youngest seeker in a century," Ron finished from behind her.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's not going to happen."
"That's what they said about Harry," Ginny said, appearing from the girls' dorms, looking as refreshed as though she'd been up for hours. "Can you help Draco out?" She asked in an undertone. "The first year snakes can't see them at the moment."
"My ears are burning," Harry commented, as he and Neville joined them. "What did I do?"
Hermione laughed. "Don't worry, love." She took his offered hand and turned to the first years. "Alright, follow us and we'll take you down to the Great Hall for breakfast."
This journey always took a bit longer than the night before, because the first years were no longer half-asleep, so could pay attention to everything around them.
"Hermione?" One of the boys asked eventually. "Is there a map?"
Neville laughed. "I wish! You can't even rely on the portraits or the suits of armour, because they move."
"It gets better," Hermione said. "Give it a week, and you'll be fine." She pushed the doors to the Great Hall open and stepped back to let Ron lead the first years through.
Harry and Neville followed, but the two girls waited, seeing Draco and Daphne emerge from the dungeons with the Slytherin first years in tow.
"Draco thinks we should meet up after class to talk," Ginny murmured; Hermione caught his eye, nodding in agreement.
As the first years passed them, Hermione scanned their emotions; below the obvious first day nerves, there was the same fears of the war and the unknown as the rest of the student body, with the exception of a handful who apparently felt they had nothing to fear.
Whether that was because they agreed with Voldemort, or their parents were Death Eaters, Hermione didn't know, and she wouldn't, without reading their minds.
Besides, it wasn't the first years Hermione was worried about – it was the sixth and seventh years instead.
Following their discussion on the train, Hermione had been racking her brains on how to get the younger years out of the castle should the worst happen, but now she had another problem – she had been assuming that she could send everyone home, but clearly she couldn't.
Those who, like Draco, wanted to escape the pressures of their families, but couldn't, would need another alternative.
She was still thinking deeply by the time she sat down at the Gryffindor table, piling a heap of scrambled eggs on to her plate automatically.
"What classes do we have today?" One of the first years asked.
"Professor McGonagall is bringing your schedules around now," Hermione answered, not really paying attention.
It didn't take long for their head of house to reach them, but it was Harry she addressed first. "Mr Potter, it took a while for decisions to be made within the other houses, so it wasn't included with your letter, but I would like you to be the Quidditch captain for Gryffindor this year."
"Wow." Harry looked stunned, even as Ron clapped him on the back. "Thank you, Professor, but … I think it would make more sense for it to be Katie. She's been on the team longer than I have."
"Miss Bell has already declined the position, Mr Potter," Professor McGonagall said. "You have the next longest tenure."
"Well, there are only three of us left," Harry admitted. "But Ron's been following the game a lot longer than I have, and he understands the plays – I only know the Seeker's role. I wouldn't know the first thing about the Chasers' plays, or the Beaters', or the Keeper's."
Now it was McGonagall's turn to look surprised, but she recovered quickly. "Well … that's a very mature view on things, Mr Potter." She handed the badge to Ron. "Congratulations, Mr Weasley."
Ron broke into a smile. "Thanks, Professor. But," he said, fixing the badge to his robes, "I don't know I can manage prefect and Quidditch Captain. Besides, I reckon Harry would always have been a better prefect anyway. Is it alright if Harry takes that?"
Professor McGonagall gave him a rare fine. "Perfectly fine, Mr Weasley."
"I think you just impressed her," Ginny said, after she'd moved on. "Don't think she knew you could be that mature."
Ron shrugged. "I didn't know I could be that mature."
Addie leaned against her desk as her first class filed in – Slytherin and Ravenclaw first years. She needed to make a firm first impression as well as a good one.
She waited patiently for everyone to settle down and stop talking, before waving her wand at the door to close it. "Good morning. My name is Professor McKinnon and I am going to be your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for at least the next year. Before we start, I'm afraid I need to go over some ground rules and get the boring bits out of the way. First of all, as soon as you walk through that door, you are a student."
That drew a few nervous giggles, and Addie gave them all an indulgent smile. "Yes, I know that sounds strange. That is, you are just a student. As far as I am concerned, you leave blood-lines and houses behind at the door. If I hear anyone making any sort of disparaging comment towards another student, for any reason, including those two, I will take points. Am I understood?"
There was a flurry of nods throughout the classroom, although Addie wasn't too concerned. Slytherins and Ravenclaws always seemed to get along better than the other houses.
"Secondly, I have to admit, I loved a class prank as much as the next person."
This time the laughter was a bit louder, as the students began to relax with their new teacher.
"But this class is not just about preparing you for later life," Addie said. "It may well save your life one day. I don't care what you do in other classes – don't tell the others I said that – but in this one, there will be no tolerance for people messing around in my class.
"And thirdly – and this is the last one, I promise – the door to my office is always open. If you need to talk to anyone, for whatever reason, please come and find me."
She didn't get any response, but she wasn't really expecting one, so she hopped up on to her desk. "Okay then, my job is to teach you how to defend yourselves, but first of all I'm going to tell you all why you need to be able to defend yourselves, so I'm going to give you a history lesson first. I know this is Professor Binns' job, but I need you to pay attention, so I'm going to do it." She paused. "And that will make sense once you've had your first History of Magic lesson."
A few people laughed, probably purebloods, who had heard stories.
"Now I know you probably think you already know what's going on out there," Addie said, "but the story is a little more complicated, so I'll ask you to indulge me. First of all, who can tell me who Voldemort's …" she paused to allow the shiver of squeals to run around the room "… parents are?"
There was silence and nobody moved.
Addie smiled at them. "Come on. There's no such thing as a stupid answer."
A tentative hand rose from the third row and Addie nodded to the young Ravenclaw. "Yes, Miss …?"
"Margaret Mahagony, Professor," the girl filled in. "I don't know who his parents were, but he claims to be the Heir of Slytherin, and I believe the last known heirs were the Gaunt family, so one of them must have been a Gaunt."
"Five points to Ravenclaw," Addie said. "Remember, even if you don't know the answer, you almost certainly know how to find out. As it happens, you are correct. His mother was Merope Gaunt, the youngest child of Morfin Gaunt. As for his father …" she allowed herself mischievous smile. "Let's make it a bit easier. Was he a wizard or a Muggle?"
"Wizard, obviously," one of the Slytherins drawled.
Addie glanced at him, recognising his features from a 'reformed' Death Eater. "If you could raise your hand please, Mr Ardon. What makes you say that?"
He frowned. "How'd you know my last name, Professor?"
"Well, I do have a class listing, Mr Ardon," Addie said, "and I was at school with your Aunt Alexia. She was a few years ahead of me. So tell me your thought process – you say wizard. Why?"
"Well …" Jacob Ardon hesitated. "You-Know-Who hates Muggles. It would make no sense for him to be related to one."
"Really?" Addie asked. "If I may use a personal example, Mr Ardon, your aunt absolutely despised her grandmother, and made it very clear to anyone who asked and quite a few people who didn't. And her grandmother was a Muggle, if I remember correctly."
"You do," he said grumpily. "But You-Know-Who hates all Muggles."
So did Alexia, but Addie wasn't going to get into that argument right now.
"Yes, well," Addie drew her wand and conjured the words 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' in thin air, made out of silver ribbon, which shimmered before reforming into the words 'I am Lord Voldemort'. "This is a story about a young woman who fell in love …"
While Addie began a story she would repeat many times over, Jen and Remus were approaching a Muggle house, about to do exactly the same thing.
"Why the hell aren't the Ministry doing this?" Jen muttered. "They haven't even stopped us; we could be anyone."
Remus kissed his wife's cheek. "They won't be watching Muggle-borns' families. They've got 'more important' things to do. That's why we're doing it."
"They didn't care even when they were at full numbers," Jen grumbled.
Thankfully, the student lists at Hogwarts had the addresses included, so Addie had compiled a list from her class registers of all the students who lived in the Muggle world, so were likely to be either Muggle-born or, at the very least, half-bloods who might not have warding around their homes.
"It'd be nice if we got some help though," Jen added, waving a hand at the house in front of them. "No magic whatsoever."
"Off to a good start then," Remus said, knocking on the door.
After a few minutes, the door opened to a woman about their age, who looked curiously at them. "Yes?"
"Mrs Barter?" Remus asked, double-checking the list in his hand. "My wife and I need to talk to you and your husband about your daughter."
"She's not in any trouble," Jen added hastily. "But we do need to speak with you. It's really quite urgent."
Mrs Barter hesitated for a second, then stepped back. "Come in."
Jen thanked her with a smile, and they stepped inside the neat Muggle home.
Mr Barter was sitting in the living room reading the paper – thankfully, they both had the day off work.
When the two walked in behind his wife, he put his paper down. "Meredith?"
"They're here to talk about Catherine," she told him quietly. "Please have a seat. If she's not in trouble …"
"Well, I bet the people who told you she's a witch never mentioned the war, did they?" Jen asked cheerfully, as she and Remus sat down on the sofa.
"No, but they did at the station and I'd be grateful for an explanation," Mr Barter said sharply.
"Jen," Remus said, "we should at least start from the beginning. I'm Remus Lupin; this is my wife, Jennifer."
"He's right," Jen said. "Let me try to explain."
And she did.
Obviously, trying to explain to the Barters that they had sent their daughter into a world terrorised by a group of murderers who considered their daughter fairer game than grouse in the shooting season went down like a lead balloon.
"Is she safe?" Mrs Barter asked, once the explanation had faded into a loaded silence.
"At Hogwarts?" Remus asked. "Definitely. I'm not saying Voldemort won't do that …"
"Merlin forbid," Jen murmured.
Remus nodded in agreement. "But we've got someone there. I know Hermione's coming up with a plan, and Harry would never let anything happen to them."
"But I thought they were just students?" Mr Barter said with a frown. "Surely you're not getting children to fight your battles for you."
"We're not," Jen said. "Unfortunately, since May there's been a rumour going round that Harry's the 'Chosen One' and the Ministry's decided that's enough for them to sit on their arses and do nothing."
"That's quite comforting really," Mrs Barter said. "It's good to know that some things are the same in the magical world and the Muggle world. Politicians are still useless."
Jen snorted. "Hear, hear. The point is, just because they're twiddling their thumbs and doing nothing, we are not." She opened her bag and pulled out two small metal objects and two bracelets.
The metal items were Dark Mark Detectors – a new invention of the Weasley twins that detected the combination of the Protean Charm and the Dark Mark tattoo. Once they had given one to Mandy and Arabella to test on Snape at an Order meeting, they had given Jen an endless supply (who was paying for them; the twins just hadn't realised it yet).
"These will light up if any of his followers come near you," Remus explained. "And the bracelets are portkeys."
"They're a kind of magical transportation," Jen explained. "If you lose consciousness, or say the words 'safe haven', it will transport you somewhere safe."
"And how long will it take for these people to find us there?" Mr Barter asked.
"They won't," Jen answered. "The place in question is Potter Manor; even if they find it, they won't be able to get in to it. The wards are too strong."
"Wards?" Mrs Barter questioned.
"Magical shields," Remus elaborated. "In an ideal world, we'd put wards around your home as well, but that would actually draw more attention to your home and put you in more danger."
"I'm modifying the wards of one of my family homes," Jen added, "so we can get the children there if Voldemort does attack the school."
Mrs Barter was still staring at the Dark Mark Detectors. "Do you really think it's likely that this Voldemort will come after us?"
Jen sighed. "At this time, I don't know. When we were at school, during his first rise to power, it wasn't uncommon for Death Eaters to attack the parents of Muggle-born students. So far, the attacks have been on members of the Ministry of Magic."
"But if these people take over your Ministry," Mr Barter said, "couldn't they start coming after people like us legally?"
Remus smiled humourlessly. "Yes. We're not going to let that happen."
"Never," Jen agreed. "And even discounting the teachers, I know at least nine students who would die before they let anything happen to your daughter or to anyone else's."
Mr Barter met her eyes for the first time. "I hope they don't need to."
"Should I be worried?" Ginny asked casually.
"About what?" Draco responded, not looking up from his homework.
"You living with another woman," Ginny answered flatly.
Now Draco looked up, the beginnings of a protest on the tip of his tongue, but the grin on her face alerted him to the fact that she was messing with him. "Funny."
"You're quiet," Ginny said. "Bad day?"
"Snape's not very happy with me at the moment," Draco said with a sigh.
"Are you sure about leaving the Quidditch team?" Ginny asked. "You're not happy about it."
"Of course I'm not happy about it," Draco said. "I don't have much of a choice. They're more likely to aim the Bludgers at me than the other team."
"I'm not surprised Snape's upset," Ginny said. "You were the best bet for Captain. And the best player on the team."
A tiny smile touched Draco's face. "Next year, maybe, if things have fixed themselves." He glanced at the door. "The others are on their way."
"Is Hogwarts telling you that?" Ginny asked. "What does it sound like?"
Draco frowned. "It's difficult to explain, really … Give me a minute."
Ginny stayed silent, knowing he would tell her at some point. Sure enough, his presence in her mind opened up, inviting her in, and suddenly, a soft whisper came into focus, above the quiet of the Room of Requirement, like a thousand voices all whispering different secrets all at once. Is that Hogwarts?
That's it … It's amazing, isn't it?
"He helped you hear her, didn't he?"
Hermione's voice caused the two to jump, and they looked up to see her closing the door, with the rest of the group, and Cedric, beside her.
"Her?" Cedric asked.
"Remember I told you on the train that I'm the Heir of Ravenclaw?" Hermione asked. "And Draco's the chosen Heir of Slytherin. We can both hear Hogwarts – she is definitely female, or at least the magic is. Probably Grandmother's."
Hermione was right, Ginny realised – it was predominantly a female voice.
Hermione, Ron and Harry were all stripping off heavy cloaks, which made no sense, since Ginny knew they had no reason to leave the castle that day.
"Where have you three been then?" Draco asked for her.
"We went to visit Hagrid," Harry answered. "Wanted to tell him in person that we aren't taking Care of Magical Creatures."
"How'd he take it?" Neville asked.
"Oh, he's fine," Ron said dismissively. "I'm more worried about Grawp."
"He isn't pulling up trees anymore," Hermione said. "Take that as a plus."
"Do I want to know who Grawp is?" Cedric asked.
"It's better if you don't, mate," Harry said. "Then you've got plausible deniability."
"Oh no," Cedric sighed. "In which case, I don't want to know."
"I do," Draco said, sounding interested. "Why don't we already know?"
"Like Harry said," Ginny said. "Plus, those of us who do know wish we didn't."
Hagrid's half-brother's living in the forest. He's small for a giant though.
Draco turned to look at her. "Are you kidding me?"
Ginny smirked. "Now you don't have plausible deniability either."
"You're right," Draco said, rubbing his forehead. "I wish I didn't know that."
"Alright," Daphne said, raising her voice a little. "We're all here. The first day's over – thank Merlin. So has anyone thought any more about what we talked about on the train?"
"Well, I've been thinking that we need a headquarters," Hermione said. "Somewhere we can study the books properly."
"I thought you said there was nothing in them," Ron said.
"No, I said there was nothing that would help Harry kill Voldemort," Hermione said. "There's other stuff in there; we just haven't looked at them that closely."
"Well, can't we use this room?" Harry asked.
Hermione pulled a face. "Well, we can still use it as the training room for the DA, but other students do use this room, Harry. I'd feel better if we had a solid place. I figured if we get a copy of the Marauders Map on the wall in there, make sure one of us is in there at all times – or Dobby; I'm sure he wouldn't mind – then if Voldemort turns up, we'll have an advantage."
"We'll have that anyway, won't we?" Susan asked. "Won't the castle warn you?"
"Well, yes," Hermione admitted. "But I'd rather have it backed up in flesh and blood if we have to evacuate quickly. You know how some people react to some nutter grabbing their head and yelling that Voldemort's back."
"Oi!" Harry protested. "I resent that."
Hermione gave him a deceptively sweet smile. "Love you, darling. My point is, one of us – or a house elf – appearing or sending a Patronus or something – people are more likely to listen to evacuation orders."
"So where were you thinking?" Ginny asked curiously.
Hermione took a deep breath. "Well, I think we should take Lady Helga's suggestion and use the Chamber of Secrets."
