Chapter 3
Defense Against the dark Arts became oddly riveting during the next week. The teacher was Professor Granger. That is, Hermione Granger. She took the class back to the brief rise of Voldemort, when wizards had fallen back on dark magic to fight dark magic. She didn't train them to defend themselves against creatures, no, it was dark wizards they were studying. Dakota loved it.
His performance at the quiditch match seemed to be enough to overcome many peoples prejudices, and he didn't receive either the cold treatment or the sidelong sneers and glares that he once had. He had no complaints.
But on Christmas, he remained at Hogwarts, and soon wished that he hadn't. * * *
It was late one night when Hogwarts was attacked. Filch, the caretaker, was killed when the dark wizards invaded the castle walls, and Madam Hooch, the first to arrive to investigate, went flying fifty feet before smashing into a wall and slumping, not moving.
Dakota heard all of these loud explosions and bangs and roused with the rest of his classmates, and went down to the common room, where several people stood waiting for an explanation. They moved out and down to the Entrance Hall together, in a big mass, where they met the rest of the students. Standing on a walkway about twenty feet higher than the floor, they watched as twenty or so dark wizards fought with about thirteen of the Hogwarts teachers. The air basically hummed with the magic residue.
Trelawney went down under a bright green blast, and Dakota had to wonder- were some of her predictions perhaps true this year? He whipped out his wand as a desperate Hufflepuff launched a solitary Stupefy spell as Professor Sprout crumpled, a string of fire wrapped around her neck. A Slytherin moaned as Snape was spun in a circle, his leg collapsing, not supporting any of his weight.
"Together!!" Dakota yelled, and the students, too scared to refuse, lined up as he told them to. "On three, stupefy," he called, and waited till several had lowered their wands before he lowered his own. "Three, two, one, Stupefy!" Several stupefy spells did what one could not, and several wizards fell. The teachers looked up and McGonagal, distracted, winced as a needle spell hit her arm. Dakota frowned. They had to do something more, and fast.
"Together, again!" he cried, and more students were pulling themselves together even more, more coming into the line. "On three! Three, two, one, Stupefy!" The rest of the dark wizards collapsed, and the students cheered, a little. But the dark wizards had down their damage. Hermione lay slumped against a wall, Snape couldn't even stand, McGonagal was nursing her arm, and Madam Pomfrey was down. McGonagal roused her, and she jumped up, rousing Hermione, healing Snape and McGonagal, and roused Trelawney, but Madam Hooch and Professor Sprout were out. Wood looked up at the students, total surprisement reigning on his face.
"To bed!" shouted McGonagal, but no one was listening, everyone, a cry rising from the Hufflepuffs. After all, Sprout had been the head of their house. Then one of the dark wizards move, rising up, spinning, his wand pointed up at the students. At Dakota. "Avada Kedavra!" the wizard fell, his wand slipping from his numb grasp.
"Snape," McGonagal hissed, "we DO NOT kill!"
"In this world, it's kill or be killed. You should know that, Professor." Snape whirled and was gone in a flash. Hermione was screaming. This was too many memories, too many dark memories for her to bear.
No one moved. No one dared move. * * *
The ministry arrived the next day, and the surviving wizards were carried away to Azkaban. Snape, for the use of the most deadly curse known to man, was expelled from the school. The holidays were black and no one spoke other than the courteous greetings and well-wishings.
Arthur Weasely, the Minister, stayed after everyone had left and talked to both Hermione and McGonagal long into the night. Dakota couldn't help but wonder what he was talking to them about.
The absence of three teachers could not go unnoticed. The staff table looked eerily empty, and when the school resumed, the teachers looked stretched, entirely to overworked to be real. They ran between classes, books flapping, ink spilling quills broken.
The quiditch season was the only thing Dakota, Scott, and Ranulf had to look forward to. They sat with the team one day in an empty Great Hall to discuss the upcoming game.
"Hufflepuff will be a pushover," Scott said, and Dakota couldn't help himself.
"Why?"
"Well, they always are, and they have the exact same team they had last year, when we beat them 200-20." He smiled mischievously. "Besides, we have the best chaser trio Hogwarts has ever seen, two excellent beaters, and a fair Seeker."
Ranulf spoke next. "Slytherin plays them tomorrow, and the week after, we play them. We can watch their best moves."
The seventh year beater, Cooley, asked, "Whose? Slytherin's or Hufflepuff's?"
"Both," Scott said. "It's time we begin practicing to take out Slytherin. I have a feeling they'll be our closest game this year." He looked around. "Their beaters are deadly accurate and efficient. We have to learn how to nullify that advantage."
The door slammed open suddenly, and Hermione came running in, screaming.
Defense Against the dark Arts became oddly riveting during the next week. The teacher was Professor Granger. That is, Hermione Granger. She took the class back to the brief rise of Voldemort, when wizards had fallen back on dark magic to fight dark magic. She didn't train them to defend themselves against creatures, no, it was dark wizards they were studying. Dakota loved it.
His performance at the quiditch match seemed to be enough to overcome many peoples prejudices, and he didn't receive either the cold treatment or the sidelong sneers and glares that he once had. He had no complaints.
But on Christmas, he remained at Hogwarts, and soon wished that he hadn't. * * *
It was late one night when Hogwarts was attacked. Filch, the caretaker, was killed when the dark wizards invaded the castle walls, and Madam Hooch, the first to arrive to investigate, went flying fifty feet before smashing into a wall and slumping, not moving.
Dakota heard all of these loud explosions and bangs and roused with the rest of his classmates, and went down to the common room, where several people stood waiting for an explanation. They moved out and down to the Entrance Hall together, in a big mass, where they met the rest of the students. Standing on a walkway about twenty feet higher than the floor, they watched as twenty or so dark wizards fought with about thirteen of the Hogwarts teachers. The air basically hummed with the magic residue.
Trelawney went down under a bright green blast, and Dakota had to wonder- were some of her predictions perhaps true this year? He whipped out his wand as a desperate Hufflepuff launched a solitary Stupefy spell as Professor Sprout crumpled, a string of fire wrapped around her neck. A Slytherin moaned as Snape was spun in a circle, his leg collapsing, not supporting any of his weight.
"Together!!" Dakota yelled, and the students, too scared to refuse, lined up as he told them to. "On three, stupefy," he called, and waited till several had lowered their wands before he lowered his own. "Three, two, one, Stupefy!" Several stupefy spells did what one could not, and several wizards fell. The teachers looked up and McGonagal, distracted, winced as a needle spell hit her arm. Dakota frowned. They had to do something more, and fast.
"Together, again!" he cried, and more students were pulling themselves together even more, more coming into the line. "On three! Three, two, one, Stupefy!" The rest of the dark wizards collapsed, and the students cheered, a little. But the dark wizards had down their damage. Hermione lay slumped against a wall, Snape couldn't even stand, McGonagal was nursing her arm, and Madam Pomfrey was down. McGonagal roused her, and she jumped up, rousing Hermione, healing Snape and McGonagal, and roused Trelawney, but Madam Hooch and Professor Sprout were out. Wood looked up at the students, total surprisement reigning on his face.
"To bed!" shouted McGonagal, but no one was listening, everyone, a cry rising from the Hufflepuffs. After all, Sprout had been the head of their house. Then one of the dark wizards move, rising up, spinning, his wand pointed up at the students. At Dakota. "Avada Kedavra!" the wizard fell, his wand slipping from his numb grasp.
"Snape," McGonagal hissed, "we DO NOT kill!"
"In this world, it's kill or be killed. You should know that, Professor." Snape whirled and was gone in a flash. Hermione was screaming. This was too many memories, too many dark memories for her to bear.
No one moved. No one dared move. * * *
The ministry arrived the next day, and the surviving wizards were carried away to Azkaban. Snape, for the use of the most deadly curse known to man, was expelled from the school. The holidays were black and no one spoke other than the courteous greetings and well-wishings.
Arthur Weasely, the Minister, stayed after everyone had left and talked to both Hermione and McGonagal long into the night. Dakota couldn't help but wonder what he was talking to them about.
The absence of three teachers could not go unnoticed. The staff table looked eerily empty, and when the school resumed, the teachers looked stretched, entirely to overworked to be real. They ran between classes, books flapping, ink spilling quills broken.
The quiditch season was the only thing Dakota, Scott, and Ranulf had to look forward to. They sat with the team one day in an empty Great Hall to discuss the upcoming game.
"Hufflepuff will be a pushover," Scott said, and Dakota couldn't help himself.
"Why?"
"Well, they always are, and they have the exact same team they had last year, when we beat them 200-20." He smiled mischievously. "Besides, we have the best chaser trio Hogwarts has ever seen, two excellent beaters, and a fair Seeker."
Ranulf spoke next. "Slytherin plays them tomorrow, and the week after, we play them. We can watch their best moves."
The seventh year beater, Cooley, asked, "Whose? Slytherin's or Hufflepuff's?"
"Both," Scott said. "It's time we begin practicing to take out Slytherin. I have a feeling they'll be our closest game this year." He looked around. "Their beaters are deadly accurate and efficient. We have to learn how to nullify that advantage."
The door slammed open suddenly, and Hermione came running in, screaming.