Chapter 12: Echoes

According to Scorpius, though, Azalea did actually think Rose had hexed her. ("You know I didn't!" Rose had said indignantly. "I know that if you did, you'd at least have the decency not to lie about it to her face," Scorpius had corrected). And she'd definitely reported it to Callister. Rose wasn't sure how that actually worked. If no one had been there to witness the alleged hex, would Callister just take Azalea's word for it? Would she wind up in detention?

It would be her first detention ever, and it wasn't even going to be for something she'd really done.

And more importantly (Rose couldn't believe she was even thinking this), what had actually happened to Azalea? Scorpius said she'd told him that she genuinely couldn't remember anything from when she'd left the Slytherin common room before the Quidditch game until when Rose had found her staring at a hallway wall. She didn't know what she'd been doing for the entirety of the three-hour game; she thought perhaps Rose had hit her with some sort of Confusion hex and she'd just been there the entire time.

"A second-year couldn't produce a Confusion hex that strong," Rose said quietly. They were between classes, shuttling through some of the myriad crowded hallways. They were headed, unfortunately, for History of Magic, but at least that meant they'd have class with Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin.

"I know that," Scorpius replied, "But Azalea doesn't pay as much attention in Defense as you do, Weasley."

"Well, someone hit her with something," Al said, sounding distracted. "Could it have been Wilkes? You were following her, right?"

"Maybe," said Rose, musing. "But three hours is a long effect time for something strong enough to confuse her that much. I mean, running into doorways three hours later, that's normal if it's a strong Confundus or something. Not having any memory – that's strange. Unless it was a Memory Charm, of course, but those are NEWT-level. I'm sure I couldn't Obliviate someone at this point. And Wilkes . . ."

"Wilkes isn't half the witch you are," Scorpius said.

"Thanks, Malfoy."

"No need to thank me, we all know it's the truth. Your Charms last longer than most fourth years'."

"Well," Rose said, fighting the strangest feelingthat maybe she was blushing, of all things,"Your Transfigurations – "

"Oh, yes. My Transfigurations outlast yours, but you always get the new ones quicker than I do," Scorpius said. "And if you ever tell my father I admitted that, I will lie."

Rose believed him. She was a bit flattered, even if everything he said had been true. "It could have been the man Wilkes was with," she suggested.

"Ah yes," said Al, "The mystery man." He had been walking around with his head practically in the clouds these last few days after Gryffindor pulled off a surprising win against Ravenclaw in the Quidditch game. Now, after being heartily congratulated by yet another Gryffindor seventh year in the corridor, he deigned to rejoin their conversation

"She was with someone," Rose insisted, "I could hear them talking. I just –"

"Couldn't pick out the voice," Al finished. "We know."

"Yes, next time you're putting yourself in potential danger by stalking people around the corridors, could you please be sure to at least get close enough to see their faces?" Scorpius drawled.

Rose huffed, but the three of them quickly stopped their conversation when they saw Callister approaching. Rose hadn't seen him since before the Quidditch game; they wouldn't have Transfiguration until tomorrow. She could swear he was making a beeline for her in an extremely menacing way, his robes sweeping back behind him. Students were fairly diving out of his way – no one wanted to get in Callister's way when he looked like that.

Rose held her breath as he drew closer, and she knew his eyes narrowed when he saw her. But he swept past her, and Al and Scorpius as well.

"Miss Wilkes," he called. "A moment, if you please."

Rose looked at Al and Scorpius. They looked at her. Al exhaled deeply.

Scorpius brushed a hand through his hair. "Right," he said, "I'd like to go be bored by Binns now."

But History of Magic that day was anything but boring.

They had been discussing the passage of the International Statute of Secrecy for several days now. Well, discussing was probably a strong word. Binns had been droning on about the International Statute of Secrecy for days now.

Many (all right, most) students had difficulty concentrating in History of Magic, and while her mother had apparently been notorious for learning in spite of Binns's soporific lectures, Rose had not inherited that talent. So, like Al, and Scorpius, and Katie, and Annabelle, and all the rest, Rose tended to nod off in class. Or doodle on the edges of her parchment if she was feeling particularly energetic. She had passed the class last year solely on the virtue of her own research; she might not have been able to stay awake for most of his lectures, but she could usually jot at least a few notes at the beginning of class on whatever the topic of the day was, and that was enough to do her own learning in the library.

Still, the Statute of Secrecy was a bit fraught, surprisingly. Rose had been jarred out of her torpor just last week when she heard the name "Potter" mid-lecture. Apparently, someone named Ralston Potter – in all likelihood a distant ancestor of Al's – had been a strong proponent of the Statute of Secrecy when its passage was being argued in the Wizengamot. Rose perked up enough to write down his name and underline it before she was well on her way back to a particularly satisfying daydream involving Hugo and a lot of Spellotape. Al had continued drooling on his parchment and hadn't batted an eye. Just a few moments later, though, the mention of the name "Malfoy" jolted Rose into consciousness again, and she turned immediately to find that Scorpius was also bolt upright, staring intently at Professor Binns.

And that was how they'd learned that unlike Ralston Potter, the Malfoys had in fact opposed the Statute of Secrecy, primarily on the grounds that it would mean they'd have to stop associating with their blueblood friends in the upper echelons of Muggle society. Of course, once it actually passed, they abruptly about-faced and became vociferous supporters as well as outspoken Muggle-haters. The Malfoys had always known which side their bread was buttered on, apparently.

Rose thought it was just a little bit awkward to know, officially, that whatever bad blood there was between the Malfoys and the Potters was a generational affair. It seemed Scorpius felt the same way, as neither of them bothered to bring Al up to speed after class.

Today, Binns was lecturing on violations of the Statute of Secrecy that might come up on exams. Violating a big International Statute was probably pretty exciting, but Binns made it sound about as interesting as watching flobberworms do . . . well, anything.

So Rose was surprised when she noticed out of the corner of one eye that Arvid Cohen, one of the Ravenclaw second years, had sat forward in his chair and raised his hand, his eyes intently on Professor Binns. It took Binns several minutes to notice; he probably was not used to anyone other than him being awake in his classroom. When he did notice, he seemed taken aback. His glasses glinted in a misty way as he cleared his throat. Could ghosts clear their throats? It certainly sounded like they could.

"Yes, Mr. . . ., er, Mr. Cahn?"

"It's Cohen, sir," Arvid said, and around the classroom, students sat up. It wasn't every day that someone living talked in Professor Binns's class. Agrippina Alberton, a Ravenclaw, actually picked up her quill. Even Dax had stopped doodling on a corner of his parchment. "Sorry, sir. I was just wondering. But weren't the Death Eater attacks on Muggles during the First and Second Wizarding Wars also a breach of the Statute of Secrecy?"

There was general silence. To Rose's memory, no one had asked a single question in History of Magic since about the second week of classes last year. She remembered that Arvid was Muggleborn; she wondered if that's why he was so particularly interested in this. He had the same wild-eyed, intent look that Katie had had when she'd talked about the escaped Death Eaters at breakfast the other week. Clearly, he'd been reading the Daily Prophet as well.

She looked anywhere but at Scorpius. They had never, strictly speaking, discussed the more recent Wizarding Wars in class, but practically everyone at Hogwarts heard sometime in their first year or before. The Muggleborn students were really the only ones who wouldn't have heard anything at home, but like Katie, Dax, and Bradley, they caught up quickly – it was hard not to, with so many Potters and Weasleys running around the school. People were bound to talk. And it was bound to be awkward for Scorpius, as it must have been at breakfast. Still, he had yet to have to sit through an actual class where they'd be likely talk about the horrible things that his father and grandfather had done. Rose saw, out of the corner of her eye, Al reach over and clap Scorpius on the shoulder. Scorpius kept staring straight ahead.

"Yes, Mr. Cohen, I suppose that must be so," Professor Binns was saying. "But, as that was recent, I think you'll find it's unlikely to come u—"

"It was at least twenty years ago," Arvid Cohen said. "Sir."

"Be that as it may," Professor Binns said in his reedy voice.

"Were they ever punished for that, Professor?" asked Liza Harrison, another Ravenclaw. She had her hand up but hadn't bothered waiting to be called on.

"This really is irrelevant to your examination, I assu –"

"What happened to them?" asked Katie MacEwan.

Professor Binns looked around and saw a sea of upturned faces. The eyes of every student in the room were on him. This had to have been unusual for Binns; Rose couldn't imagine that a more boring class had existed in the history of schooling than Binns teaching History of Magic. But something about the most recent Wizarding war was resonating with the class. More people had been reading the Prophet than she would have assumed in a class of twelve-year-olds, Rose thought wryly. By now even Connor was awake.

Binns sighed. "Very well," he said. "To answer your question, Mr., er . . . Covid, yes. The Death Eater attacks on Muggles would have been considered a breach of the Statute of Secrecy. As you should all know very well by now, the Statute of Secrecy dictates that each wizarding governing body is responsible for the concealment of all magical beings under its rule. It specifically states that any magical creature causing harm to the Muggle community may be subject to international discipline."

He paused for a moment, as though to collect his thoughts. "With respect to the Death Eaters, Miss Haverford, no, none of them were ever prosecuted for violating the International Statute of Secrecy."

Arvid Cohen's hand shot into the air again. "But why, sir?"

"Because, Mr. Canaan, those who were prosecuted were largely prosecuted for other crimes. Violence against Muggles is against the International Statute of Secrecy, but it is also against the law. The Death Eaters who were identified stood trial for crimes against wizardkind and Muggles, as well as treason. Bringing the Statute of Secrecy atop that was unnecessary. The punishments for the Death Eaters were severe enough; many of them now reside in Azkaban for their crimes."

"Not all of them," Rose heard Bradley Jones mutter.

"Did they catch all of the Death Eaters, sir?" Liza called out.

"We cannot be sure, Miss Hatter. Many of the Death Eaters remained anonymous, even to each other. It was their common practice to attend each meeting wearing a mask, although of course individual members may have known each other, and certainly members of the lower ranks – non-Death Eaters, who were generally less secretive – would have known each other. At the trial of Theodore Nott, Mr. Nott insisted that there had been a so-called 'Book of the Mark' – an ensorcelled record kept of every person who had ever taken the Dark Mark, and every act they had ever performed in this role, protected somehow. This is merely the ravings of a desperate man – Mr. Nott believed, in all likelihood, that should he be able to locate such a list, he himself would be spared Azkaban by selling out his fellows. There is no real evidence of a comprehensive list of previous Death Eaters –"

On Rose's other side, Melisenda suddenly dropped a book on the floor and clattered her chair loudly in picking it up. When she straightened up again, Rose could hear the end of Professor Binns's thought.

"— no such record has ever been discovered in the known meeting places of the Death Eaters."

"But could there be –" Connor called out, but he was cut off.

"What would happen if someone found the Book of the Mark?" Katie MacEwan said, wide-eyed.

"There is no Book of the Mark, Miss MacEntire."

"But – "

"If such a Book existed, and if it were found, I would imagine there would be a reckoning for anyone who did not face a trial after the War, if there are indeed any such people. They would be sent to Azkaban, more than likely. Or their memories would be wiped, and they would be expelled from Wizarding society, much like Berthold Bettany when he was finally discovered in Argentina after his work with Grindelwald.

"If, as Mr. Nott suggested, the Book somehow includes specific actions, specific atrocities . . . if new information such as this came to light, it could cause quite an upheaval in wizarding Great Britain."

"Professor!" Annabelle called, waving her hand, "Do you think there were Death Eaters who weren't caught after the war?"

Binns sighed. "I suppose it's probable, Miss Ottowa."

There was a general hush in the room. Students looked around uneasily, as though there might be a Death Eater in disguise right here in the classroom. It was one thing, Rose thought, to have grown up in the shadow of the war that had defined two generations. But until this year, she'd always been under the impression that it was all in the past – or at least, all the action was in the past. Sure, she'd known in a sort of hypothetical, far-away sense that some former Death Eaters had probably escaped Azkaban, and punishment, simply by keeping their heads down or by claiming to have been under the Imperius Curse. After all, everyone knew that had happened during the first war too. But she'd never considered that those people could actually be caught now, after all this time. That her parents and relatives were probably still searching for them – probably had been, for years and years.

Scorpius's father was . . . well, he was Scorpius's father. He'd turned sides at the end. It had made sense for him to stay out of Azkaban.

But what about the ones who got away?

Professor Binns seemed to realize, in his belated way, that he had caused considerably consternation. "The war is over," he said in a final sort of tone. "The last of the trials happened years ago. The worst offenders have all been caught. This will not appear on your exams. Now, if you please, can we move on to history, to factual, relevant history?"

Within five minutes, Rose had started doodling again.

. . .

"To answer your question before you ask it," Scorpius said later that night, when they found themselves in a secluded corner of the common room, "I don't know if the Book of the Mark is real or not."

Al made an irritated noise in the back of his throat. "Listen, Malfoy," he said in mock outrage, "What good is it having a mate with Death Eater parents if you can't even give us any inside information?"

"Just a Death Eater father," Scorpius corrected mildly.

Rose sighed over her Transfiguration homework.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Weasley," Scorpius drawled.

"What?" Rose started. "Oh no, it's not you. I was thinking about Azalea again, and why Callister hasn't said anything to me if she told him I jinxed her." Rose could have sworn Scorpius went slightly pinker than usual. She quickly changed tacks. "There's no way there could be a Book, right? That would be . . . I mean, where's it been hidden all these years?"

"Probably at Hogwarts," Al said flippantly. Rose and Scorpius stared at him. "Oh, come on, I'm joking."

"Hogwarts does have a lot of secret chambers and disappearing rooms," Rose mused.

"I'm not saying that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," said Scorpius, "But that's only because I overheard James trying to convince Louis to use Geminio on a Dungbomb before Transfiguration the other day."

"Hey that's my bro – no, wait, that's totally fair," said Al.

As if on cue, James and Louis burst into the common room, crowing excitedly. They were surrounded quickly by a gaggle of other fourth years. Rose looked over and rolled her eyes, although not without at least a little curiosity. James and Louis were always getting up to something.

A few moments later, James sauntered over with a, "D'you want to hear what I did?" and tried to lean casually on their table. Instead, he upended it with a loud CRASH.

Rose shrieked in definitely-completely-dignified kind of way as ink, parchment, and quills scattered on the common room floor. Scorpius's sleeve was dripping all over the carpet until he pointed his wand and muttered a spell to vanish the ink. Al somehow wound up with bits of feather all over him, even though there had only been three quills on the table. Rose glared daggers at James as he muttered, "Sorry, sorry," and bent to help them clean up the mess.

"Is 'what you did' make a mess out of the Gryffindor common room?" Scorpius asked acidly.

"Also that," said James, stooping to pick up the last inkwell and set it back on the righted table. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and wound up with an ink smudge across his face. "But no. Louis and I – we figured out how to get into Greenhouse Five!"

Rose stopped dead in the middle of reorganizing her rolls of parchment. "You what?" she asked incredulously.

"Why?" asked Al simultaneously.

"Because the Headmistress said not to," James said, rolling his eyes at Al.

Rose considered this. In point of fact, probably the best way to get James to do anything was to tell him not to do it. It was as though he considered rules to be a personal challenge. Still, it was pretty impressive that he'd managed to get in. If James attacked his schoolwork with the same enthusiasm he used to attack rule breaking, he'd turn out to be a formidable wizard someday.

"What was in there?" Rose asked. She couldn't help herself; she leaned towards James, but tried to feign disinterest all the same. She knew if she looked too eager, he'd refuse to tell her just to irritate her.

James gave her a look that was almost concerned. "Plants," he said. Of course he had no idea what was in there; the whole point for him was sneaking in.

"Do you think you could take us in?" Al asked.

"In exchange for what?" James replied, not missing a beat.

"Rose will do your homework for a week," Al said promptly.

Rose stepped on his foot. "No, I won't!"

"I'm a fourth-year," James pointed out. "Still, tempting."

Unexpectedly, Scorpius spoke. "I'll steal something from one of my father's collections and bring it back to you after holidays."

Rose and Al looked at him. They'd had an inkling that Mr. Malfoy had a collection of many so-called 'artifacts' of a questionable nature. Scorpius had said that it was nothing that could get him into any sort of legal trouble . . . provided that he didn't try to use any of them. Rose was not at all sure it would be wise for any of them to be in James's hands.

James's eyes grew wide. "It's a deal," he said, sticking out his hand. Scorpius took it and shook briefly.

"I don't know if that was a good idea," Al said quietly, echoing Rose's thoughts as James scampered away, probably to tell Louis about the incredible deal he'd just made. Rose nodded fervently.

"I'm going to steal a paperweight from my father's office," Scorpius said matter-of-factly. Rose and Al looked at him. "He's absolutely got at least one that's shaped like a snake. How would James know the difference?"

Rose and Al continued to look at him. Al's jaw had dropped a little, but his eyes were delighted.

"What?" said Scorpius.

"That's pretty morally questionable," Rose pointed out in a tone that seemed, even to her, unconvincing. She couldn't bring herself to care much that Scorpius was planning to bribe James with a fancy-looking office supply.

"That is awesome," Al said in hushed tones, watching his brother.

Author's Note: I always thought it was interesting how little we actually know about what happens to the Death Eaters after the war. Sure, there are a few characters of whose fates we can be sure - Bellatrix Lestrange and the Malfoys spring to mind. I suppose we're meant to assume that Harry and co. hunt the rest of them down in the years following the war, but this seems highly unlikely to me. We can gather from canon that not even the Death Eaters know who all the Death Eaters are, let alone all of the names of the rabble who make up the lower ranks of Voldemort's forces. That information would have died with Voldemort at the end of Book 7. Without a comprehensive, definitive list, I'd argue that it would have been impossible for our heroes to track down the remains of Voldemort's forces using only their own incomplete knowledge, whatever resources remained in the surely decimated Auror department, and the information they could extract from known guilty parties in exchanged for reduced sentences or absolution (Draco Malfoy, anyone?). I've always supposed that, despite the best efforts of our heroes, more than a few baddies went wholly unpunished. And so I started to wonder what it would be like for Muggleborn children who are of an age with Rose and Al, growing up in the shadow of this great war, who have been told that the danger has passed - and are finding out as they immerse themselves in this incredible world that, perhaps, things are not so much over (and the danger not so much gone) as they might wish.

No comment on whether the Book of the Mark is real or not, of course ;)

Thank you for reading!

Love always, bbh